Such a village it took to write this book:
Thank you to my amazing agent, Elisabeth Weed, whose enthusiasm, editorial eye, and unflagging confidence in this book—and in me—have changed my life. And to the rest of the Book Group team for all your efforts.
And to my editor, Micaela Carr, who, despite everything thrown at her, including my book, never lost her calm or her insight. And to all the Holt team, whose efforts are still underway as I write this: Allegra Green and Laura Flavin in marketing, Clarissa Long in publicity, as well as production editor Morgan Mitchell. To Emily Mahar for her incredible cover design. And finally, huge thanks to editorial director Emily Griffin and production designer Chris Sergio, whose tireless work and collegial spirit over those Zoom calls resulted in such a stunning book.
Thank you to Laurie Grotstein, my friend since Holmby Park and my latter-day career buddy, who first said, “This is a book, now go write it.” May we both panel widely and well.
To Susannah Grant, who one day in the Loire Valley listened to my words and said, “You know, you are a writer.” This is all your fault, Sue.
To Matt Ember, my TV pilot–writing mentor, there at the beginning of Bix, whose advice, “Don’t listen to those idiots,” has been my guiding light ever since.
To all my friends and family who became/were conscripted into being early readers and brutally honest cheerleaders for this book, especially: Mary Beth DeLucia, Corynne Corbett, Maren Stenseth, Stephanie Stanley, Cathleen Young, Vicky Van Zandt, and Kathryn Davis.
And to the 2024 debuts Slack and the 2025 debuts Discord communities, whose virtual support, stories (oh, the stories…), humor, and wisdom made this last year so much more sane. And fun.
To my soccer ladies: Twenty-four years of pure pleasure (and maybe a few bruises) on the pitch with you all. Thank you for letting me shout story ideas and various other non sequiturs at you while we played.
To my twelfth-grade English teacher at Westlake School for Girls, the immortal Joannie Parker, who first cracked open the door for me and so many others to a world of smart women and their words, asking questions, demanding answers, and encouraging us to tell our stories.
Thank you to Dr. Giuliana Repetti for growing up, going to college and med school, and becoming a doctor while I wrote this book so you could be my ace medical consultant.
Thank you to my in-laws, Jacqueline and Ray, for all the love, support, and good cooking those years on Thomasina Lane.
To my parents, who I know are watching and smiling. And to Frasier and Dewey, my pup muses who are also watching and smiling … and no doubt drooling from on high.
And to my sibs, Nancy Duggan Benson and Richard Duggan, for being my loving and ever-humorous compatriates in the clueless adult orphan club and my early, tireless readers.
To Lizzy, Maggie, and Andrew, my funny, wise, and wondrous kids, thank you for being my unflagging supporters lo these many years. And thank you for putting up with my endless rants about effing time travel.
And finally, to my husband, Chris: love of my life, partner in crime and not quitting, dairyman supreme, master of the core, and my rock. So glad I met you in Sci-Li that night, dressed in my green (it was really blue) jacket. Love you all around the fifty states and forever, BB.