James Burke - A Private Cathedral

“Who’s the guy?” Clete asked.

“You already know.”

“I don’t want to believe that. I don’t want to hear it, either.”

Gideon squeezed Clete’s arm. “Arrivederci.”

I didn’t want to hear any more of the story. I had already put aside the unhappiness of the past and no longer wanted to probe the shadows of the heart or the evil that men do. It was time to lay down my sword and shield and study war no more. It’s odd, but just at dawn the other day, I saw a narrow boat with a hand-carved dragon’s head on the bow floating down Bayou Teche. On the boat I saw a woman reclining on her side, smiling at me, her lips parting, pulling me once again into the mists of ancient Avalon. Her hair was golden, her skin as pale as milk, a necklace of flowers hung on her breasts, and this is what she said:

A writer’s life can be a grand one, but the success she or he experiences involves many other people, most of whom receive little or no credit for their contributions to the work of the writer. In my case, I owe a debt to large numbers of people who have been at my side in one fashion or another for the many years I have been a published writer.

The meek and humble reference librarians are at the top of the list. I’m convinced that if Western civilization collapses, the reference librarian will be there to save us from ourselves. Book vendors are in the same category. So are the book reps at the publishing company. So are the publicists and editors and copyreaders who go beyond duty and call to get it right. If a writer can say his or her life has been a grand one, as mine has, the debt is enormous, and it would take hours to thank all the people who have been so loyal to both me and my work.

I wish to thank my daughter Pamala and my wife, Pearl, for their encouragement and editorial suggestions, and for all the marketing help given to me by Erin Mitchell. My thanks go also to my publishers, Carolyn Reidy and Jonathan Karp, and also Richard Rhorer and Stephen Bedford and Elizabeth Breeden and Sarah Lieberman and Jonathan Evans and all the other fine people at Simon & Schuster, particularly my editor, Sean Manning, and his team, Lake Bunkley and Tzipora Baitch, and also Jackie Seow, whose book jackets are always engaging and in some lovely way encapsulating of the book, and artworks in themselves.

A special thanks to E. Beth Thomas, who is one of the best copy and literary editors I’ve ever worked with.

Also, my undying appreciation to Philip and Mary and Anne-Lise Spitzer and Kim Lombardini and Lukas Ortiz and the Spitzer Agency.

Thanks to my children, Jim, Andree, Pamala, and Alafair, for being there.

And lastly, thanks to all my readers. You’re a grand bunch, and it’s an honor to be among you.