The Drowned Forest

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I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my parents, James and Denise Reisz, as well as my friends Josh Olive and Leslie Crowe, for their support, encouragement, and endless patience in reading early drafts. (Also, Leslie, sorry about killing off the dog.) In addition, Haley Hardwick gave me more anecdotes about the lives of struggling musicians than I could ever fit in one book. My agent, Joe Monti, told me the ugly truths about the publishing world while still keeping me laughing. And finally, Brian Farrey-Latz, Sandy Sullivan, and everybody at Flux Books took in this redheaded stepchild of a story and treated it like their own.

This book couldn’t have happened without y’all. Thank you.

But it’s a beautiful day, Holly. It’s the most beautiful day.

Pastor Wesley stands in the river, frog-green water swirling around his thighs. Sunlight ripples in his outstretched hands and across the white robes of those about to be baptized.

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