Outrun the Moon (29 page)

AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE IF YOU'RE STILL READING

I am a writer of historical fiction. Stories made from my head set in a world erased by the marching of time. I take a snapshot of a place, in this case, April 1906, and weave a story through it. My goal is to entertain in as authentic a setting as possible.

Sometimes, absolute historical accuracy gives way for the larger purpose of story. For example, the burning of Chinatown occurred later in the day on April 18, 1906, but I have described it as occurring in the morning to amplify the drama of the moment. Also, it is doubtful that a girl from Chinatown in 1906 would have had the means or the knowledge to get into a white school (though, I note that Madame Chiang Kai-shek, the dynamic wife of Chiang Kai-shek, the President of the Republic of China between 1928 and 1975, came to the United States in 1907 for an education at a private school in New Jersey, and later, Wesleyan). It is also doubtful that the Chinese Benevolent Association would have allowed two girls to plead a case before them. And it is highly doubtful that a boy would go looking for his love in a hot air balloon.

However, history is a general overview, and overlooks the story, the
possibility
of the individual. If we are confined by the strict margins of what is “known” to be true, we would never explore the power of what
could be
true. We would deny our ability to create our own stories, to make our own magic.

And what is life, without
that?

“Gratitude is the memory of the heart.”

—JEAN MASSIEU

I'm grateful for all the amazing folks who continue to nurture and support me. To Kristin Nelson and her team at Nelson Literary Agency for championing my stories. To my outstanding editors, Shauna Rossano and Jen Besser, for helping me scrub and spit-shine
Outrun the Moon
until it gleamed. To the amazing Putnam team, in particular, Kate Meltzer, Amanda Mustafic, Carmela Iaria, and Alexis Watts, for all the behind-the-scenes work you do, and to Theresa Evangelista for her beautiful cover designs. I am so lucky to work with all of you.

To my partner in crime, Stephanie Garber, who loved Mercy from the start. You never doubted her, or me, and I thank you for being the octopus that sticks to my face and never lets go. To Mónica Bustamante Wagner for always finding time for me and my stories and who makes helpful comments like, “Maybe nix?” To Jeanne Schriel; “Words are easy, like the wind; Faithful friends are hard to find.”—William Shakespeare. To Abigail Wen for telling me this is the book she was searching for as a girl. To Evelyn Ehrlich for your smart advice, and for showing me how to be brave.

To Sabaa Tahir and Kelly Loy Gilbert, who not only are my rocks but rock. BIAFAIM. To Aisha Saaed, Ilene W. Gregorio
and the We Need Diverse Books team for everything you do to support diverse books. To Anna Shinoda for all the tension, and all the silliness. To Heather Mackey, and Marilyn Hilton for being an oasis of calm. To Dahlia Adler and all the bloggers who tirelessly advocate for books. Your praises don't get sung enough. To Eric Elfman for your advice and your mentoring. Whenever you speak, I listen.

To Susan Repo, Angela Hum, Jennifer Fan, Bijal Vakil, Adlai Coronel, and Alice Chen. Old friends are golden, and one day we'll be golden oldies. Much love to Ariele Wildwind for sharing your cabin in the woods with me. Love you lots. To Yuki Romero and the awesome ladies of the Rivermark Moms' Book Club for showing me how well books go with wine.

To Amy Leung, Xiao Jun Wang, and Fun-Choi/John Chen for helping me with the Cantonese, and for Jack Lee, grandson
and
son of a San Francisco Chinatown launderer, for giving your stamp of approval. To the Chinese Historical Society of America in San Francisco, and the Museum of Chinese in America in New York City for all the work you do to promote the legacy of Chinese Americans. To my in-laws, Dolores and Wai Lee, for helping me make Mercy's story more authentic and for your advocacy north of the border. To my sisters, Laura and Alyssa, for letting me lean on you, and for sometimes letting me fall on the floor, because sisters keep us grounded. To my mom, a native San Franciscan, thank you for taking me shopping, for taking care of my kids, for passing out my bookmarks to your fellow tourists in Ireland, and for all your love. To my dad, who skirted the Chinese Exclusion Laws and arrived to
San Francisco in 1947. Mom and Dad, you inspire me, and you inspired this story.

To Avalon and Bennett for sitting unquietly at my desk while I work, and without whose loving distractions this book would've been finished in half the time. To Jonathan, for giving me the space to create. I love you. And finally to God for giving me a fanciful mind, a decent laptop, and a good set of arms to hug all of the
above.

Stacey Lee
is a fourth-generation Californian with roots in San Francisco Chinatown. Born in Southern California, she graduated from UCLA, then got her law degree at UC Davis King Hall. She has lots of experience with earthquakes, having skinned her knees more times than she wants to remember diving under tables. One day she hopes to own a hypoallergenic horse and live by the sea.

Visit Stacey at www.staceyhlee.com

See what she's up to on Twitter: @staceyleeauthor

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