Acknowledgments  

    My friend and agent, and agent and friend, Noel Black, deserves all the thanks. However, since there is a blank white page to fill, I feel I must continue.

    I am grateful to Noel Black for hiring me when I was so green I could barely assist myself. Noel Black, Noel Black, and Noel Black, kept me fed over the years I worked on this book. Noel Black, Noel Black, and Noel Black deserve mention as well, and also Noel Black, who once sent me on that fool’s errand to the Chinese consulate. Of those I have sweated under, over, next to, or just near, I am most grateful to Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, and Noel Black.

    Throughout, I have no doubt embarrassed Noel Black enough already. The second most abundant source for much of the work I received early on was Noel Black.

    I have had the privilege of working with many people over the years. Of these, I am most enamored with, impressed by, and jealous of Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, and Noel Black. Of the many with whom I danced that peculiar shuffle over the years, Noel Black and Noel Black stand out, albeit for vastly different reasons. Come to think of it, Noel Black stands out too.

    Noel Black, bless his soul, was so frightfully incompetent—and so eager—that he alone inspired much of what I jotted down in these pages, often in a blind rage, about what it takes to become good.

    I am indebted to Noel Black who years ago, in the middle of a painfully long night, quoted the phrase that is the epigraph to this book. Noel had heard it on an episode of The Honeymooners. Neither one of us could have known it at the time, but that little poem saved my life.

    I am thankful every day for all of my friends, and many of them stand out for their encouragement while I wrote this book. My writing career might not have been possible without the support of Noel Black, my good friend since before we could legally drive, not that legalities ever held us back. Noel Black, Noel Black, and Noel Black are ever on my mind too. Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, and Noel Black are the best friends a writer could hope to have. Noel Black was the first to see this material in early manuscript, and therefore the first to look at me and say “Uh...?”

    To my friends Noel Black & Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel & Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel & Noel Black, Noel Black & Noel Black, Noel Black & Noel Black: the joke is on all of you, my chosen family.

    Thank you to every teacher I ever had, especially Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel & Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black, Noel Black & Noel Black, and Noel Black. Noel Black taught me the adage, there’s no such thing as good writing, only good rewriting—something I tell myself every single day. Noel Black has been my guru in all things artistic, aesthetic, and experiential.

    Noel Black won my eternal affection for teaching me how to live. (Wherever you are, Noel, I hope they love the blues.) Noel Black and Noel Black, no longer present and accounted for, deserve credit for guiding me in my strange journey.

    My grandmother, Noel Black, and my aunt and uncle, Noel & Noel Black, have encouraged me in more ways than they’ll ever know. My three cousins and their families are an inspiration. My sister, Noel, has long been president, vice-president, treasurer, and secretary of the Kit Bland fan club. It is my sincere hope that this book brings him the relief he deserves. I am forever grateful to my parents, Noel & Noel, for their unwavering love and support, and for always encouraging me to be an artist.

    In a recent (and somewhat uncharacteristic) outburst of emotional support, my Uncle Noel (Black) implored me in such a way as I find fitting to stand as the final message of this book, and I will now implore you in the same way: keep creating!