Back to Bizkaia: A Basque-American Memoir

Acknowledgments

155 Acknowledgments When undertaking a first book, the greatest hurdle is self-confidence. Can I write a book? If I do, will the writing be good enough? Do I risk personal embarrassment from lack of skill? I don’t avoid challenge merely to avoid failure, not at all. On the contrary, I learn a great deal from my failures, but I also don’t shine bright lights on them. In the end, these concerns compelled me to keep this book a secret, even from most family and friends, until it neared actual publication. I finished the manuscript in about six weeks. Only then did I share it with a circle of friends—two brutal friends, in fact—the kind who know writing, both the good and the bad, and would gladly tell me how horribly I had misjudged my own writing prowess. To Bob Muldoon and Cris Watkins, I offer my thanks for not sparing my feelings, for offering truth, and for knowing that our friendship remains strong enough to withstand any constructive criticism. I look forward to reviewing their first books and returning the favor with equal care and brutality. As I put the final touches on the manuscript, I enlarged my circle by three, people close to me, who offered encouragement and love, cheered my progress, and pressed me to finish the book even when my attention or energy waned. A best friend of mine, Mikel Lopategui, who found his way into these pages, remained as reliable and trusting as in our first days building tree houses in childhood. My English teacher from high school, Cathy Smales, gave warmth and enthusiasm, a potent combination that she sprinkles over all of her students , both present and past. Anita Williams, my mom’s sister, my aunt and surrogate grandmother, became a quiet confidante, allowing me to share frustration and vent anxiety. In August 2010, I had finished my first round of revisions for the University of Nevada Press. At the same time, the U.S. State Department asked me to 156 undertake a mission in Afghanistan to help America’s war effort. Initially, I was apprehensive, believing myself ill-suited for the top secret task. But told that “your country is asking you to do this,” I could not refuse. With my departure imminent, I faced the possibility that I might not return from Afghanistan. Still, for Dad’s sake, I had to make sure the work made it through publication, even if I wasn’t around, so I again expanded my circle by two—Richard Urey and Loni Nannini. Both of them agreed to shepherd the manuscript over the finish line if I couldn’t do so myself. My instruction to them was simple: make sure that Dad sees the book and that Mom reads the book. I thank them immeasurably for their generosity. Finally, I extend great thanks to the University of Nevada Press, especially Margaret Fisher Dalrymple, who thoughtfully reviewed thekmanuscript, suggested improvements, and brought it to fruition. Margaret is an exceptionally warm and kind person and a credit to the university system and to the whole State of Nevada. She shared the manuscript with a couple ofsanonymous reviewers, who kindly helped with Basque spellings and offered wonderful advice to navigate between subtle controversies in Basque academia and culture that might have unnecessarily detracted from the main narratives of the book. My final appreciation goes to Jan McInroy, who patiently copyedited the book, drawing her sharp sword to cut down dangling modifiers, subtle or blatant inconsistencies, and the occasional lapse in grammar. Overall, I could not have asked for a warmer, more thoughtful group of people to help guide this first book to final print and into publication. I am eternally grateful to all of them. ...