Once upon a time book dedications used to be written to praise and flatter patrons who gave financial help to their favoured authors – without their largesse, the books wouldn’t have been published in the first place.
These days, most book dedications are forgettable and unimaginative. Usually, they’re expressions of gratitude directed at the writer’s family, partner or any other long-suffering person or household pet who has been a supportive crutch during the long days and nights of book creation. So, if you’re at the stage of penning your own, here are 13 quirky and creative dedications to inspire you.
- e e cummings dedicated his book No Thanks to the 14 publishing houses that had turned him down. He ended up self-publishing it.
- In Austenland by Shannon Hale: “To Colin Firth. You’re really a great guy, but I’m married, so I think we should just be friends.”
- In Sherwood by Meagan Spooner: “To the tall girls who wish they were dainty. To the short girls who wish they were elegant. To the girls who’ve always been too much. And the girls who are never enough. To those who persist. This is for you.”
- In Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman: “Because we haven’t yet met/have only a glancing acquaintance/are just crazy about each other/haven’t seen each other in much too long/are in some way related/will never meet, but will, I trust, despite that, always think fondly of each other! This one’s for you. With you know what, and you probably know why.”
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- In The Field Guide to the North American Teenager by Ben Philippe: “To my mother, Belzie. I would have made a terrible doctor, mom. People would have died.”
- In My Lady Jane by Brodi Ashton, Cynthia Hand and Jodi Meadows: ““For everyone who knows there was enough room for Leonardo DiCaprio on that door. And for England. We’re really sorry for what we’re about to do to your history.”
- In Mortal Gods by Kendare Blake: “For the students of Lyons Township High School in Illinois. Because that kid in the back row asked.”
- In Franny and Zooey by J D Salinger: “As nearly as possible in the spirit of Matthew Salinger, age one, urging a luncheon companion to accept a cool lima bean, I urge my editor, mentor and (heaven help him) closest friend, William Shawn, genius domus of The New Yorker, lover of the long shot, protector of the unprolific, defender of the hopelessly flamboyant, most unreasonably modest of born great artist-editors to accept this pretty skimpy-looking book.”
- In Wild Fire by Nelson DeMille: “There is a new trend among authors to thank every famous person for inspiration, non-existent assistance, and/or some casual reference to the author’s work. Authors do this to pump themselves up. So, on the off chance that this is helpful, I wish to thank the following people: the Emperor of Japan and the Queen of England for promoting literacy; William S Cohen, former secretary of defense, for dropping me a note saying he liked my books, as did his boss, Bill Clinton; Bruce Willis, who called me one day and said, ‘Hey, you’re a good writer’; Albert Einstein, who inspired me to write about nuclear weapons; General George Armstrong Custer, whose brashness at the Little Bighorn taught me a lesson on judgement; Mikhail Gorbachev, whose courageous actions indirectly led to my books being translated into Russian; Don DeLillo and Joan Didion, whose books are always before and after mine on bookshelves, and whose names always appear before and after mine in almanacs and many lists of American writers – thanks for being there, guys; Julius Caesar, for showing the world that illiterate barbarians can be beaten; Paris Hilton, whose family hotel chain carries my books in their gift shops; and last but not least, Albert II, King of the Belgians, who once waved to me in Brussels as the Royal Procession moved from the Palace to the Parliament Building, screwing up traffic for half an hour, thereby forcing me to kill time by thinking of a great plot to dethrone the King of the Belgians. There are many more people I could thank, but time, space, and modesty compel me to stop here.”
- In A Song of Ice and Fire by George R R Martin: “For Phyliis who made me put the dragons in.”
- In My Life on the Road by Gloria Steinem: “This book is dedicated to Dr John Sharpe of London, who in 1957, a decade before physicians in England could legally perform an abortion for any reason other than the health of the woman, took the considerable risk of referring for an abortion a twenty-two-year-old American on her way to India. Knowing only that she had broken an engagement at home to seek an unknown fate, he said, ‘You must promise me two things. First, you will not tell anyone my name. Second, you will do what you want to do with your life.’ Dear Dr Sharpe, I believe you, who knew the law was unjust, would not mind if I say this so long after your death: I’ve done the best I could with my life.”
- The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie: “To all those who lead monotonous lives, in the hope that they may experience at second hand the delights and dangers of adventure.”
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- In The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry: “To Leon Worth. I ask the forebearance of the children who may read this book for dedicating it to a grown-up. My first and most serious reason is that he is the best friend I have in the world. My second reason is that this grown-up understands everything, even books about children. And my third reason is that he lives in France where he is hungry and cold. He needs cheering up. If all these reasons are not enough, I will dedicate the book to the child from whom this grown-up grew. All grown-ups were children once – although few of them remember it. And so I correct my dedication. To Leon Worth when he was a little boy.”
