Ironskin (33 page)

Authors: Tina Connolly

Tags: #Historical, #General, #Fantasy, #Fiction

BOOK: Ironskin

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A big thank-you to my treasured and overworked second readers, K. Bird Lincoln and Caroline M. Yoachim, who have each read nearly everything ever, including novels that will continue to live in a drawer.

Another thanks to the rest of my novel reader/critiquers, including Josh English and Mischa DeNola, who read this particular novel, and Tinatsu Wallace, Meghan Sinoff, Julie McGalliard, Gord Sellar, Ian McHugh, David A. Simons, Nicole Gresham, and Shawn Scarber, who read others. A thanks to K. D. Wentworth, who loved the original novelette, which sparked the idea of turning it into a novel, and thanks to someone who pointed out that the original story was trying to be
Jane Eyre
. I have no idea who that was. Hey, thanks to Charlotte Brontë while I’m at it. I loved
Villette
.

I am also grateful for the support of the Clarion West class of 2006 as a whole with its awesome group of students, teachers, and administrators (including Tristan, who graciously let me use his last name for the bolsters), and the local PDX writers crew (including Camille Alexa, at whose Vermont writing retreat I wrote a large chunk of
Ironskin
[2K every morning before heading out to eat cheese.])

Enormous thanks to my rock star agent, Ginger Clark, for her hard work and keen eye, to everyone at Tor and Curtis Brown for their support, and especially to Melissa Frain for loving this novel in the first place and then giving me a billion brilliant insights on how to make it into what it was meant to be all along.

And of course to my wonderful family, who told me I was going to grow up to be a writer long before I knew it—Mom, Dad, Mike, Amy, Andy, Rick, and Grandmere & Papa, who would have loved to see it happen. My husband, Eric, who kept me focused and talked me off of ledges and read me poetry. And the new baby, who hasn’t really helped my writing at all, but is awfully cute.

All that and I’m still going to miss someone. Sorry. I blame the new baby for eating my brain.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.