In one of those cruel ironies of human nature, writing a book about happiness turns out to be a trying and, at times, unhappy endeavor—not only for the author but also for those unfortunate enough to cross his grumpy path. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to these people who, despite all common sense and instinct for self-preservation, graciously helped me every step of the way.
My agent, Sloan Harris, believed in the project from the get-go and steered me through the choppy waters of the publishing world with skill and compassion. At TWELVE, Cary Goldstein and Nate Gray provided valuable support, in ways large and small. The eagle-eyed Timothy Mennell nipped, tucked, and polished the manuscript.
Having Jonathan Karp as an editor is enough to make even the most misanthropic writer happy. Jon guided the project from initial inception to final punctuation. He knows when to let a writer write and when to step in and save him from himself.
I owe a debt of appreciation to National Public Radio’s foreign desk for their support and collegiality over the years. NPR’s vice president of news, Ellen Weiss, was supportive and understanding of my prolonged absence.
Several people provided valuable guidance and encouragement at key stages. David Shenk and Laura Blumenfeld offered indispensable advice about the world of books. Bobbie Roessner provided wise words of encouragement—words that I dipped into during the many difficult twists and bumps on the road to bliss.
It is simply not possible to dive into so many countries, as I did, and not rely heavily on the kindness—and contacts— of others. With apologies to those I’ve most certainly overlooked, I am indebted to Tony Judge, Karl Blöndal, Odai Sirri, Kaleb Brownlow, Kavita Pillay, Lisa Kirchner, Stokes Jones, Grace Pless, Krista Mahr, Leif Pettersen, Michael Hawley, and Linda Neuman. In Switzerland, my friend Bruno Giussani generously shared his time and insights. In Bhutan, Mark Mancall shared his deep knowledge about that country and put me in touch with all of the right people.
Thank you to Joe Garcia for explaining Miami to a sunburned Anglo, and to the University of Miami in Coral Gables for providing an office and access to their capacious library. Much of the book’s early pages were written at Books & Books in Miami, and the store’s proprietor, Mitchell Kaplan, was an early supporter. My research assistant, Gretchen Beesing, skillfully mined the dense and surprisingly treacherous world of happiness research, and for that I am extremely grateful. In the Netherlands, the dedicated staff of the World Database of Happiness generously made their files of bliss available to me.
On the road, I am indebted to those who graciously opened their homes to me: Susan Gilman, Scott Neuman, Rob Gifford, Nancy Fraser, and Suresh Jayaram. They offered not only a bed in which to sleep but also a surfeit of insights and suggestions. Sarah Ferguson provided moral support throughout, as well as the world’s best writer’s retreat.
Several people read early drafts of the book and offered valuable suggestions: Amy Bickers, Chuck Berman, Barbara Brotman, Dan Charles, and Dan Grech. I tip my hat to all of them.
One’s family is a great source not only of happiness but also of literary support. I am indebted to my parents and my brother, Paul, for tolerating my grumpiness before, during, and after this project. A big thanks to my daughter, Sonya, one of my greatest sources of happiness, for putting up with my long absences from home. Thanks, too, to my in-laws, and to Marie Jo Paris, for helping take such good care of her while I roamed the world.
Finally, I want to thank my wife, Sharon. This book literally would not exist without her. She courageously and stoically endured the particular brand of misery inflicted on spouses of happiness authors. She never gave up on the project, or on me, and for that I am grateful beyond words. She is my editor, she is my confidante. She is my bliss. This book is dedicated to her.