Jack (27 page)

Fee, fie, fo, fum.

I smell the blood of an Englishman.

Be he alive, or be he dead,

I'll grind his bones to make my bread.

T
hese words, spoken by a giant, appear in both “Jack and the Beanstalk” and “Jack the Giant Killer,” English folktales collected by the folklorist and historian Joseph Jacobs. These “Jack” tales share many similarities—so many that for years I thought they were just slightly different versions of the same tale. But upon closer inspection, I came to realize that despite all their similarities, they are also wildly different.

When I began the process of writing
Jack,
I thought I would just stick with “Jack and the Beanstalk” for inspiration, but there was something about “Jack the Giant Killer” that kept poking me every now and then, refusing to leave me alone. Clearly he felt he deserved a role in the tale as well, as any self-respecting adventurer would. I just couldn't see where this Jack fit, exactly.

As I was thinking about these two Jacks and how they might be combined, I stumbled upon an old video
of my great-grandfather shortly before he died, just a year before I was born. What a treasure! Here was my great-grandfather, ninety-two years old, telling hilarious tales of stealing eggs from the neighbors' chicken coop, getting expelled from school, and skipping work to meet girls at the state fair. He was a rogue and an adventurer, much like Jack. These stories of my great-grandfather felt a little like fairy tales.

I think it was this experience that led me to bring together both “Jack and the Beanstalk” and “Jack the Giant Killer” in a way that would honor their similarities
and
their differences. What if these Jacks were somehow related? I decided that my hero, Jack, had been named after his great-grandfather, the famed Jack the Giant Killer, or “Grandpa Jack.” He would grow up on his adventurous tales of conquering giants and, as his namesake, believe he was destined to be a heroic giant killer himself and claim fame and riches. As his journey unfolds, Jack looks to the stories to guide him, to inform him of who he is, but he also learns to make his own path.

Jack
is my ode to the stories of my great-grandfather, and to all my ancestors whose stories have been passed down to me from long, long ago. I feel deeply connected to them. Their stories have rooted me, and yet, like Jack, my own life story has grown in wildly different and unpredictable ways. I can't wait to see what unfolds next.

T
his book was a huge undertaking for me. So big, it took a giant village to bring
Jack
to life, so it is only appropriate that I give giant thanks to all those involved in this story.

To my heroic editor, Katherine Harrison, whose insight, faith, and encouragement kept both this book and me from dying an untimely death. You saved our lives!

To the gorgeous team of copy editors, Renée Cafiero, Marianne Cohen, Artie Bennett, and Alison Kolani. You possess superpowers to make magic logical and logic magical.

Thanks to Jinna Shin, Katrina Damkoehler, and Heather Kelly for their beautiful design.

To my super agent, Michelle Andelman, who possesses great calm and good sense. I can always trust you to say what needs to be said.

To Kate Coursey, Peggy Eddleman, Janet Leftley, Jenilyn Tolley, Krista Van Dolzer, and Tamera Wissinger, my trusty critique partners with sharp eyes and big hearts.

To my girls (you know who you are), who helped raise my children, fed me good food, and lifted my spirits every day. Your friendship means the world to me.

To Dad, who always knows what to do, and to Mom, who always listens. And love and thanks to all my siblings, who are always a great source of inspiration, but Patrick takes the cake with this one. Thanks for the torture, brother. It's paying off.

To Whitney, Ty, and Topher, my biggest fans, always too happy to give Mom her writing time. (Quit sneaking snacks, little thieves!)

And finally to my husband, Scott. I could not wish for anything more. You have given me the world.