Acknowledgments

I’VE BEEN WRITING an Oscar speech since I was about 10 years old; I’ve also been compiling album liner notes, should I ever become a rock star. Finally, I can put them both to good use.

I’d like to thank the following people:

My mom, Rachael, who I am clearly the next beta-version clone of. Your fierce support and willingness to listen and learn are unmatched by any mom, anywhere. You have given me courage and the ability to laugh at myself. And you. Because, as you know, we are the same person. I’m OK with that, really.

My dad and my brother, “big” Gus and “little” Gus, who almost never agree with me politically, but who have never, ever failed in their love and support for me. Our shared love of all things tech gave me the curiosity I needed to poke at the world around me and wonder how it worked, as well as wonder how I could make it better.

This book was literally a messy collection of thoughts and essays jumbled together from various parts of my brain, and it could not have turned into what it did without Christine Cupaiuolo’s ever-insightful editing and ever-faithful support. She made two trips from Chicago to Brooklyn to work on the draft with me (as well as clean my refrigerator), and even got this TV dinner lover to think of Amy’s Roasted Vegetable Pizza as comfort food. Her wit and spirit know no bounds.

Johanna Vondeling, my wicked-smart editor at Berrett-Koehler and the vice president of editorial and digital. Her dedication to producing my vision, her understanding and hand-holding (particularly her deft handling of temper tantrums), and her unbelievable savvy in so many realms made this process deeply satisfying and fascinating. She is a treasure to authors everywhere.

Rachel Manis, Cyn Cooley, and Sonal Bains, a trifecta of Very Good Friends, who provide Very Necessary Giggle Fits. My cousin Cheryl Zandt, who proposed the idea of doing tandem writing sessions so that both of us would commit time to finishing our books. Maria Sandomenico of Tails on the Town, who looked after Izzy Louise (and occasionally me) without hesitation, whenever she was needed. My awesome, hilarious, perceptive therapist, Terry Cramer, who talks me down from the ledge and gives me a reason to laugh while peering over it. The gang at the Peninsula in Prospect Park, aka “the island of misfit toys,” whose morning antics are unmatched by any other set of crazy dog people anywhere.

Don Hazen and Steve Katz, who convinced me not only that I could write a book, but also that my community would support me doing it—and then gave me oodles of advice along the way. Phillip Frazer, Jim Hightower, and Laura Ehrlich, my cohorts at the Hightower Lowdown, for giving me exactly what I needed to get the job done. Everyone at the Women’s Media Center for the support of the Progressive Women’s Voices Program. Jessica Clark, who pitched in additional 11th-hour editing and research support. Susan Mernit for her ongoing mentorship. My author friends Tracy Van Slyke, Jaclyn Friedman, and Rinku Sen, who reassured me at every panic-stricken juncture with, “No, no, I totally felt like that, too. It’s OK.”

The entire team at Berrett-Koehler, who took the words and turned them into an actual book. The design and production people, who humored my nitpickiness to no end with grace and patience: Dianne Platner, art director; Randi Hazan, cover designer; Elissa Rabellino, copyeditor; Leigh McLellan, interior designer and production manager. On the making-things-happen side, there’s Jeevan Sivasubramaniam, the managing editor; Mike Crowley in sales; and Jeremy Sullivan, Katie Sheehan, David Marshall, and Bonnie Kaufman, a gang of marketing, PR, and community goodness. And of course, all of the unseen voices, movers, and shakers that put their souls into this work.

Jack: hobgoblin. It’s the best I could do. Cliff and Dana from My Uncle’s Place also get a shout-out. Izzy Louise, the best dog on the planet (who I’m sure can read by now), who taught me transcendence, patience, and how to keep two feet on the ground.

Finally, the giant communities I find myself a part of on the social networks I belong to. You shared so much with me as I created this book: You gave me incredible insights, introductions, laughs, and support. In short, you created this book with me. Thank you all.

Fuel for the fire provided by Carvel Flying Saucers, Gorilla Coffee of Brooklyn, Ruta Maya Coffee of Austin, Amy’s Roasted Vegetable Pizza, and my dad’s Slovak goulash.