The Beast of Barcroft (19 page)

For Dad

The thing is, I never planned to write this book. I was stuck on another novel when
The Beast of Barcroft
snuck up on me and sank its fangs into my imagination. I'm a regimented kind of guy, so it's no small thing for me to abandon one project for another, and I likely wouldn't have if it hadn't been for the long list of people I need to thank.

At the top of any list is my incomparable Kate. She is brilliant and beautiful, strong and selfless, and when I say she believes in me, she doesn't just talk the talk, she walks the walk. (Literally, she walks our dog every morning so I can write.) Kate was the first to tell me to pursue this flight of fancy, the first to read a draft, and her love and support runs deep and true. But I'm most grateful to her for our daughter, Sidney. Living with her is like living with the sun. Bright and joyful and openhearted, she is the perfect antidote to my crabbiness. I love them both madly and could not have taken this book from idea to publication without their unwavering encouragement. I have to thank my mother, Linda, and my sister, Jaclin—my “muscle”—for always having my back. They bust my chops about never featuring thinly veiled versions of them in my novels, but that's because they'd “go Jersey” on the bad guys and wrap up my plot in two chapters flat. And I must also thank Betzy and Larry Hansen, who routinely “go Wisconsin,” which means they are staggeringly generous and kind at every turn.

Two authors on my own personal Mount Rushmore of Writing, Brian Michael Bendis and Brad Meltzer, provided crucial early encouragement and unwittingly helped unleash
The Beast of Barcroft
on the world. And John Siuntres brought me inside the minds of so many of my favorite creators through his entertaining and enlightening
Word Balloon
podcast.

There were several people who were extremely generous with their time in helping me to ground this fantastical story in some sort of reality. John Stanton of the Arlington Central Library provided me with research on the
real
“Beast of Barcroft,” a critter that caused a bit of trouble in Arlington during the summer of 1974. Corporal Rich Henry of the West Deptford Police Department (and my cousin) helped me better understand how a real police officer might actually respond to my ridiculous, hypothetical scenarios. Lieutenant Justin Solobay of the Chillum-Adelphi Volunteer Fire Department was my fearless first-responder consultant, and Danny LaDuke—my weapons and gear consultant, shipmate, and friend—helped me keep my fictional powder dry. And Jill Lammert, already a wonderful neighbor, revealed herself to be a gifted copy editor with a keen sense of character and dialogue. All future stories now require a “Jill pass” or they simply do not count.

I am eternally grateful for my astounding agent, Barbara Poelle, and the Irene Goodman Literary Agency, who took a chance on me. From the beginning, Barbara believed in my characters and worked damn hard to get them into the world. I am lucky to have such a champion, sashaying ever onward and settling for nothing less than world domination.

I must also thank my exemplary editor, Sarah Peed, of the Random House Publishing Group. Her every note deepened character and strengthened the story. That much I expected from an editor, but I didn't expect her incredible encouragement and enthusiasm. Special thanks also to copy editors Tom Pitoniak and Tricia Wygal, who polished my words and sharpened my sentences, and to David G. Stevenson, who designed the gorgeous cover. Seriously, every time I look at it, I grin like an idiot. And to everyone else in the Hydra family who lent a helping hand:
Hail Hydra!

I tend to mythologize the places I love, so I've wanted to set a story on Arlington's beautiful network of wooded trails for years. They've been a haven, offering me places to explore, exercise, and think. And whenever I was feeling particularly low, the woods magically sent a fox or some other wondrous creature out to cross my path and inspire me. Speaking of animals that have inspired me, I have to thank some dear, departed companions: Jake, the gentlest dog I've ever known, and my cat, Gus, who sat in my lap every morning before the sun came up so I didn't have to write this scary story alone.

And, finally, thank you to my father, Bill Schweigart, who took more out of life than it ever took out of him. The Christmas before he passed he gave me—then a lapsed writer—the perfect gift: an idea for a story. That story rekindled my love of writing and ultimately led me to this story. So, as I write these acknowledgments on Father's Day, I offer this novel as my gift to you, Dad. It's a strange, dark tale, but there's magic in it too.

PHOTO: CHRIS RIM PHOTO

B
ILL
S
CHWEIGART
is the author of
Slipping the Cable
. He lives in Arlington, Virginia, with his wife, Kate, and daughter, Sidney, who provide him with all the adventure he needs.
Northwoods
, his sequel to
The Beast of Barcroft
, will be available in February 2016. Visit him at the sites below and at his author page on Facebook.

billschweigart.com

@BillSchweigart

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