
Author's Notes:
Dear God. This file
is 126 pages in a document with one inch margins, in twelve point Times New
Roman font. Thinking about how long it took to write this makes me
cry--tears of blood.
Firstly I must blame
Madelyn for introducing the idea of Conner (Kon-El) to me when I was in an
emotionally weakened. Thereupon, she held up a metaphorical knife to
my metaphorical throat and metaphorically threatened me, my family, my
extended family (which was a pretty lame threat since I hate my extended
family but at the time she didn't know this), the puppy I'd seen in the pet
store window three days before this all started, my future puppy of
choosing, several small island nations, and that guy on the corner who may
or may not have been a very unsuccessful hooker. Under this kind of
pressure I had no choice but to comply and write this monstrosity.
Plus, uh, she did some other stuff. Which will become apparent to some
of you, not so much apparent to others.
Secondly I must blame
Lyra Sena, who was my roomie and wife and fellow hunter of toilet plungers
at eleven o'clock at night in the wicked wilds of a major metropolitan area.
She cheerleaded me and coddled me and gave me bemused expressions when I
pawed through the apartment at God know's what o'clock, craving tea and
orange rolls; plus, she showed me the joy that is TGIFriday's spinach and
artichoke dip. Also, above all else, Lyra managed to beta this
monster during the holiday season and neither threatened to kill me nor did
it by stealth; for that, I am eternally grateful. She always whips my
work into shape. Many thanks, dearest, you are a hero.
And the big three has to
go out to everbody who stuck with me for the six months it took me to finish
writing this. The comments, squealing, offers of first borns and
offers to birth me first borns kept me going when the only thing I felt
would improve the situation was to simply fling Conner to the proverbial
wolves,
let him get picked up at the bus stop by some chain-wearing pimp and have
him prostituted out to filthy old men in Metropolis. All the
secret tantrums and mental seizures Behind The Scenes In Connerville (be
glad you missed them)--you guys nursed me through. Many thanks, much
love, and thanks for stopping by.
P., (January 6, 2005)