Ruin Falls (41 page)

Authors: Jenny Milchman

BOOK: Ruin Falls

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She gazed at the wall of woods before them, then back in the other direction.

The kids looked up at her, their hair drying at odd, scruffy angles, streaks of mud on their faces and clothes, but their gazes bright and trusting.

“Mommy?” Ally said.

“Yes, Al?”

Thinking,
What happened to Daddy? How do we get out of here? Where will we find the other moms?
or any of a dozen questions Ally might ask and Liz had no hope of answering.

“Kurt was lying, wasn’t he?”

It occurred to Liz that she’d never heard the Shoemaker’s real name before today.

“This isn’t where the world comes to an end, is it? The world—it’s still there, Mommy, right?”

Suddenly, an unnatural wind ruffled the leaves on the trees, and branches began to clatter. The air around them throbbed.

Liz looked up to see a helicopter descending, like the belly of a whale.

Tim was sitting above the skids, legs dangling as he scanned the ground.

The children were also looking up, their faces wide with wonder.

“Yes, Ally,” Liz told her as she began to hustle the kids together. She put her arms around Reid and Ally just for a moment to make sure. Then she raised a hand toward Tim and started waving madly. “Yes, everyone. The world is still there.”

This one is for my children, Sophie and Caleb, who know all about dreams and have done so much for this one. Here’s to pine-bough eyelashes, Frank Automotive Corp.… and cliff-jumping.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Getting to publish your first novel is a bolt from the blue; it’s a is-this-really-happening? moment. Getting to publish a second one gives you the great gift of answering that question with Yes.

To everyone who helped make this happen, my deepest thanks.

The usual suspects all apply, but so that these acknowledgments don’t become a novel in themselves, I would ask you to please take a look at the last few pages of
Cover of Snow
. There are resources and riches there, and many people deserving of great gratitude.

Getting to work with Linda Marrow on my debut novel made me one of the happiest, luckiest writers among that happy, lucky group. Getting to do another sends the quotient soaring. Linda deserves an acknowledgments section of her own, not only for her wisdom, vision, and breadth, but also for her support, humor, and plain old sense of fun.

Dana Isaacson deserves a thousand thanks for taking care of the million details that shepherd a book into being. If I had an eye like Dana’s, I wouldn’t need a dozen drafts. But I am glad I don’t because he sees things I am so grateful are in there.

Kim Hovey and Libby McGuire help steer the greatest ship there is.

Anne Speyer was always there minutes after I needed her, with exactly what I needed. But Anne added something else to this process.
Toward the end of the book, a character arrives at Liz’s house. And it was Anne who realized that she should be there. Jennifer Rodriguez, I hope, will always be at the helm of production on my books. Thanks also go to Ted Allen, who jumped in at a necessary moment, and to Pam Feinstein, whose eagle eye caught everything from a missing hyphen to a missing character trait. I never thought I could get as lucky as I did with my first book in terms of publicity, but getting to work with Michelle Jasmine makes me gladder yet. Thank you, Michelle, for your vision and excitement. The entire Random House/Ballantine team are dream-makers and have my gratitude and thanks.

My agent, Julia Kenny, brings enough belief, hope, wisdom, and calm to the table that I count on the future she envisions.

After my first novel released, I hit the road for a seven-month, thirty-five-thousand-mile book tour. Then I sat down and proceeded to list the bookstores I wanted to single out. It was an impossible task, and so I decided that rather than asking my publisher to print a gazillion-page acknowledgments section, I would for now thank all the booksellers of this country who opened their doors, their shelves, and their hearts to me and my family. I believe that bookstores are one of the most precious resources we have, and hope that I walk the walk in celebrating them. Thank you, booksellers, for celebrating with me.

Librarians and libraries are another precious resource. In those hallowed halls I became a reader and a future author. Thank you, librarians, for the work you do; thank you for taking a chance on me. Special thanks go to Stacy Alesi for magic-making.

Book clubs and book bloggers have impacted the way we read, and the way authors reach those readers. Thank you for finding my book amongst the many thousands written. Thank you for hosting me in your homes and online. Please continue to reach out, because I will always reach back.

To the reviewers who embraced my first novel, my many thanks.

There are authors who exemplify the overflowing generosity of the writing community. (Hint: The list to come also happens to be a roster of Must Reads to add to your pile.) In no particular order (except
alphabetical): Marjorie Brody, Elizabeth Brundage, Carla Buckley, Anthony Franze, Nora Gaskin, Tom Gill, Peter Golden, Linda Hull, William Kent Krueger, William Landay, Allison Leotta, Jamie Mason, Susan McBride, Jennifer McMahon, Lee Mims, Rick Murcer, Richard North Patterson, Nancy Pickard, Leah Rhyne, Hank Phillippi Ryan, Charles Salzberg and the New York Writers Workshop, Joanna Campbell Slan, Karin Slaughter, Julia Spencer-Fleming, Mary Stanton, Mark Stevens, Tina Whittle, and Carter Wilson—thank you for meeting me along the way, and fitting me into your busy, creative lives.

I wrote about one group of writing kindred spirits in my last acknowledgments section; this time I’d like to take the opportunity to thank those who rallied forces to give me that feeling every author hopes for: that of walking into a crowded event room. Diane Beirne of The Woman’s Club in Richmond, Nikki Bonanni and the Killer Coffee Club, Donna Fletcher Crow, Debbie Gerrish and the Women Who Write, Sandra Hutchison, Kay Kendall, Lynne Kote, Donald Maass, Liz Main, Maryann McFadden, Bill Meissner and the Mississippi River Writers Workshop, Janet Reid, Mary Elizabeth Roarke, Linda Rodriguez, Carolyn Rose, Lizzie Ross, Janet Rudolph, Carl Selinger and the Montclair Write Group, Emily Winslow Stark, Lelia Taylor, Mike Turner, Juanita Wilson, Lois Winston and the Liberty State Writers—no writer (no person) could hope for more.

A special thanks to writer and baker Judy Walters, who filled my first month of events with sweets. Both Carrie Murgittroyd and Liese Schwarz managed to make my son’s birthday on the road special, with songs, kindness, and majestic cakes.

To Julie Schoerke, Marissa Curnutte, Sami Lien, Grace Wright, and everyone at JKS Communications who, instead of laughing when they heard that I wanted to go on book tour for seven months, actually helped make it happen … thank you. Every author should find publicists who know that it’s not just about publicity, it’s also about heart.

The novel you’ve just read was revised at many points along the way. Countless rooms, closets, and nooks saw versions of this book, but a few deserve special mention. Karen Pullen, for a room at the
lovely Rosemary House Bed and Breakfast in Pittsboro, North Carolina; Judy Hogan, for a wonderful dinner and lesson in farming; Ed Schneider and Rita Kempley for a fabulous pad in the heart of our nation’s capital; Mary Stanton, for a condo—on the beach, no less—in West Palm Beach, Florida; Angela Menemenci, for another lavish beach house; Tina Whittle, for a writers’ retreat house by the tides of Savannah, Georgia; Janis Thompson, for the darling apartment, extra bedroom included, in Peabody, Massachsetts; Marjorie Brody, for two days in the big ole state of Texas; Reggie and Matt, for a week of respite in Arizona; Dan and Lisa Schneiderman, for a home-away-from-home in D.C.; Jerry and Pam, for a night outside the Windy City; and Eileen Baldwin and Linda Beaupre, for a magical bunkie in Ontario that delivered inspiration every writer must wish for.

I believe that writers cast a net, and the life they live goes into that net. What winds up coming out in a story is a mystery vaster than anything I’ve yet to pen. But two people I can identify provided inspiration for key aspects of the book you’ve just read, and if they don’t recognize themselves, then I wish to.

To Earl Staggs, the real-life Earl: Thank you for letting me use your name, your nobility, and your spirit. I know you would do as well as the one in this book. School bus drivers everywhere, you are the unsung heroes and heroines of our children’s days.

And to Andrea Lekberg, of The Artist Baker in Morristown, New Jersey: Thank you for the exquisite treats, only one aspect of which did I steal for Jill and Liz (but many of which did I eat).

At the start and at the end there is always my family, my greatest gift.

My mother-in-law, Shirley Frank, offers a fine editorial eye, and bolstering just when I need it. My father-in-law, Eddie Levenson, has quite an editor’s mind himself. It is he who speaks for the semicolon … and makes me feel all this might really happen. Lucky for me, I have another mother-in-law, Amy Small, who ushered in my debut with a literary panel and reception, and one very special cake.

Clearly, I like cake.

I would not be writing at all without my parents, Alan and Madelyn
Milchman, who taught me about finding your passion and never giving up. The fact that they are expert and trusty readers is more than any daughter has a right to expect.

My brother-in-law, James Turney, gathered troops in Arizona and Oregon. When my first novel sold out in Phoenix, it was all his work, and he doesn’t even live there anymore. My brother, Ezra, and sister, Kari: If the road brings me closer to you, that alone is good reason to be on it. I hope that the next book finds us all together somehow. Thanks for always wishing … and thanks for the reality checks.

My children are the ones to whom this book is dedicated. They make so many things possible, you’d think they weren’t the kids in this equation.

Everything comes back to Josh. First trusted reader, partner in all things crazy (which just might prove our sanity in the end), expert road warrior, and soulmate. Thank you. The greatest story of all began when I met you.

BY JENNY MILCHMAN