The Infinite Sea (35 page)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Going in, I didn’t fully appreciate the toll this project might take. One of my flaws as a writer (one of many, God knows) is that I tend to dive too deeply into the inner lives of my characters. I ignore the sage advice to remain above the fray, to be as indifferent as the gods to the suffering within my creation. When you’re writing a long story spanning three volumes about the end of the world as we know it, you’re probably better off not taking it too seriously. Otherwise, you’re in for some dark nights of the soul, as well as fatigue, malaise, untoward mood swings, hypochondria, crying jags, and puerile hissy fits. You tell yourself (and the people around you) that acting like a four-year-old who cries because he didn’t get what he wanted for Christmas is a perfectly normal way to behave, but deep down you know you’re being disingenuous. Deep down you know that, when the clock has wound down and the time is up, there will be more than acknowledgments owed; there will be apologies, too.

To the good people at Putnam, particularly Don Weisberg, Jennifer Besser, and Ari Lewin: Forgive me for getting lost in the thickets, for taking myself and my books too seriously, for blaming others for my own shortcomings, for getting bogged down in the muddy trenches of the impossible dilemmas of my own making. You have been generous and patient and incredibly supportive.

To my agent, Brian DeFiore: Ten years ago, you had no idea what you were getting into. To be fair, neither did I, but thanks for hanging in there. It’s nice to know that there’s someone I can call anytime and yell at for no reason at all.

To my son, Jake: Thank you for always answering my texts and not freaking out when I was. Thanks for reading my moods and forgiving them even when you didn’t understand them. Thanks for inspiring me and pushing me and always defending me against mean people. And thanks for not minding too much your father’s annoying habit of peppering his speech with obscure quotes from books you haven’t read and movies you haven’t seen.

Finally, to Sandy, my wife of nearly twenty years, who recognized in her husband a dream unfulfilled and who understood better than he did how to make that dream real: My darling, you taught me courage in the face of overwhelming odds and incalculable loss. You showed me faith in the face of despair, courage in the hours of lightless confusion, patience in the shadow of looming panic over lost time and wasted effort. Forgive me for the hours of silence you endured, the inarticulate anger and hopelessness, the inexplicable swings from euphoria (“I’m a genius!”) to angst (“I suck!”). The only fool I’ve ever seen you suffer gladly is me. Ruined holidays, forgotten obligations, unheard questions. Nothing is more painful than the loneliness of being with someone who is never completely there. I’ve incurred a debt that is hopeless for me to repay, though I promise to try. Because, in the end, without love all our effort is wasted, all we do is in vain.

Vincit qui patitur.