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I know my sisters are scanning this page wondering where their names are, so I guess it’s time to
thank my family for being so wonderful and supportive, even though I caused you all a whole lot of
heartache when I was growing up. Thanks, Dad (and Margie), Eboo (and Weter and Roman), and
Leanne (and Michael, Luca, and Willow). Debra and Kaitlyn. Amanda and Stephen. Ben and Josh.
Matt and Sam. Pixel, Gracie, Lottie, and Hammy. And while there are too many names to add to this
book, thanks to all my friends—you know who you are.
Most of all, thank you, Chrysta, Somerset, and Emerson, for answering the question of why we’re
here. I love you all so, so, so, so, so much, and there is nothing I could write here that would show
how grateful I am for you. Chrysta, you’re my best friend as well as the best mother and the best wife
on earth. (And yes, you were right—as always.)
I love you.
There wasn’t a day that went by while I was writing this book that I didn’t think about two of the
biggest influences in my life as a journalist and writer: my good friend and mentor David Carr and my
mother, and insatiable reader, Sandra.
David taught me so much about journalism and storytelling (“Keep typing until it turns into
writing”), and I’ll be forever grateful for the years I got to spend with him.
As for my mother, while she is no longer here, I hope she’s up there somewhere reading this. If
she is, I’ll know she started with this page first. Mum, you can flip to the beginning of the book now. I
love you and miss you.