Read Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend Online
Authors: Matthew Green
Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend (38 page)
I will not see the rest of Max’s life, but I know it will be long and happy and good.
I close my eyes. Tears stream down my cheeks and then they are gone. The warm, wet streaks are no more. The gooey balloon in my belly grows to fill every nook and cranny of my insides, and then I feel myself start to rise.
I am no longer whole. I am no longer me.
I soar.
I hold the image of Max’s face in my mind for as long as I can. Until I am no more.
‘I love you, Max,’ I whisper as his face and everything else in the world fades to white.
I open my eyes. I am staring at eyes. I have seen these eyes before. They are dark and warm. They know me.
I cannot place them. And then I can.
I do not understand.
I say her name.
‘Dee?’
And then I know.
Stephen King suggests writing the first draft of your novel with the door closed.
I suspect that Mr King, who I respect a great deal, did not spend his youth toiling away in the dim confines of an arcade or sitting in front of a television with an Atari 5200 controller in hand. Videogame junkies become hooked on immediate feedback and require it constantly. Though I have overcome my addiction and play sparingly nowadays, the need for immediate feedback has not left me.
As a result, I write every sentence with the door open. In the process of completing this novel, I invited about a dozen friends and family members to read along as I wrote. While their helpful suggestions, generous praise and private counsel were critical to my success, the most important thing for me was the knowledge that someone was reading and anxiously waiting for the next chapter.
For that, I am forever grateful.
Most important of all those early readers is and always has been my wife, Elysha Dicks, the person for whom I write every word. Writing for me is little more than a continual, unending effort to impress the pretty girl who I love. I am fortunate in that Elysha likes more of what I write than she doesn’t and offers me the time and support to accomplish my goals. She is both the reason I want to write well and the reason I am able to write well enough.
A special thanks to Lindsay Heyer for suggesting that my childhood imaginary friend might serve as inspiration for a novel. I have been fortunate enough to spend a great deal of time with Lindsay over the past four years, and this book would have never happened had she not been such a good listener, confidant, and friend.
Thanks to my in-laws, Barbara and Gerry Green, for their constant support and love. They can be overwhelming at times, and their dogs can drive my wife and me batty most of the time, but their presence has been a blessing in my life. Never before have I understood or experienced the sense of pride that parents can feel for a son. I am fortunate to have found this gift so late in life.
Thanks to the real life Mrs Gosk, who differs only slightly from her fictional counterpart. I was lucky enough to be mentored by Donna when I entered the teaching profession fourteen years ago, and since the first day, we have been close friends and kindred spirits. Donna is one of the finest teachers I have ever known and I have watched her change the lives of countless children over the years. My desire was to give Max and Budo the best possible teacher, and I quickly realized that reality had provided me with a character much greater than any I could have ever imagined.
Great appreciation goes to Celia Levett, the copyeditor for this book. I believe that editors’ names should appear on the cover of every book, in recognition for all the work that they do in bringing a story to the finish line. Her expertise has spared me countless moments of grammatical embarrassment. Her invisible but vital imprint is hiding, much like an imaginary friend, on every page of this book.
Undying gratitude to Daniel Mallory, who I have yet to meet in person yet feel a deep affinity for despite a relationship that consists of a few phone calls and a plethora of emails. I suspect that if Daniel was living nearby, we would be fast friends, but with an ocean between us, I must settle for his sage wisdom and cherished counsel. I am fortunate to have someone as skilled as he helping to bring Budo to life.
Lastly, everlasting appreciation to Taryn Fagerness, my agent and friend who believed that I could write this story when I did not. Without her urging, Budo and his friends would remain on the heap of untested ideas that litter my hard drive. Taryn has been the invisible friend of my writing career for a long time. She is the person who makes every bump a little less jarring, every success a little more joyful and every sentence that I place on the page a little less unfortunate. She is the Teeny of my life. My guardian angel.
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