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Bag of Bones :: Кинг Стивен
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Stephen King
Bag of Bones
AUTHOR’S NOTE
To an extent, this novel deals with the legal aspects of child custody in the State of Maine. I asked for help in understanding this subject from my friend Warren Silver, who is a fine attorney. Warren guided me carefully, and along the way he also told me about a quaint old device called the Stenomask, which I immediately appropriated for my own fell purposes. If I’ve made procedural mistakes in the story which follows, blame me, not my legal resource. Warren also asked me—rather plaintively—if I could maybe put a “good” lawyer in my book. All I can say is that I did my best in that regard.
Thanks to my son Owen for technical support in Woodstock, New York, and to my friend (and fellow Rock Bottom Remainder) Ridley Pearson for technical support in Ketchum, Idaho. Thanks to Pam Dorman for her sympathetic and perceptive reading of the first draft. Thanks to Chuck Verrill for a monumental editing job—your personal best, Chuck. Thanks to Susan Mold, Nan Graham, Jack Roman, and Carolyn Reidy at Scribner for care and feeding. And thanks to Tabby, who was there for me again when things got hard. I love you, hon.
S.K.
This is for Naomi.
Still.
Yes, Bartleby, stay there behind your screen, thought I; I shall persecute you no more; you are harmless and noiseless as any of these old chairs; in short, I never feel so private as when I know you are here.
“Bartleby”, HERMAN MELVILLE
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again… As I stood there, hushed and still, I could swear that the house was not an empty shell but lived and breathed as it had lived before.
“Rebecca”, DAPHNE DU MAURIER
Mars is heaven.
RAY BRADBURY
CHAPTER 1
On a very hot day in August of 1994, my wife told me she was going down to the Derry Rite Aid to pick up a refill on her sinus medicine prescription—this is stuff you can buy over the counter these days, I believe. I’d finished my writing for the day and offered to pick it up for her. She said thanks, but she wanted to get a piece of fish at the supermarket next door anyway; two birds with one stone and all of that.
She blew a kiss at me off the palm of her hand and went out. The next time I saw her, she was on TV.
Stephen King
Bag of Bones
AUTHOR’S NOTE
To an extent, this novel deals with the legal aspects of child custody in the State of Maine. I asked for help in understanding this subject from my friend Warren Silver, who is a fine attorney. Warren guided me carefully, and along the way he also told me about a quaint old device called the Stenomask, which I immediately appropriated for my own fell purposes. If I’ve made procedural mistakes in the story which follows, blame me, not my legal resource. Warren also asked me—rather plaintively—if I could maybe put a “good” lawyer in my book. All I can say is that I did my best in that regard.
Thanks to my son Owen for technical support in Woodstock, New York, and to my friend (and fellow Rock Bottom Remainder) Ridley Pearson for technical support in Ketchum, Idaho. Thanks to Pam Dorman for her sympathetic and perceptive reading of the first draft. Thanks to Chuck Verrill for a monumental editing job—your personal best, Chuck. Thanks to Susan Mold, Nan Graham, Jack Roman, and Carolyn Reidy at Scribner for care and feeding. And thanks to Tabby, who was there for me again when things got hard. I love you, hon.
S.K.
This is for Naomi.
Still.
Yes, Bartleby, stay there behind your screen, thought I; I shall persecute you no more; you are harmless and noiseless as any of these old chairs; in short, I never feel so private as when I know you are here.
“Bartleby”, HERMAN MELVILLE
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again… As I stood there, hushed and still, I could swear that the house was not an empty shell but lived and breathed as it had lived before.
“Rebecca”, DAPHNE DU MAURIER
Mars is heaven.
RAY BRADBURY
CHAPTER 1
On a very hot day in August of 1994, my wife told me she was going down to the Derry Rite Aid to pick up a refill on her sinus medicine prescription—this is stuff you can buy over the counter these days, I believe. I’d finished my writing for the day and offered to pick it up for her. She said thanks, but she wanted to get a piece of fish at the supermarket next door anyway; two birds with one stone and all of that.
She blew a kiss at me off the palm of her hand and went out. The next time I saw her, she was on TV.