In August of 2018 my family and I went on a trip to Detroit to see a Tigers game and enjoy the city. I was at the end of a summer that had been full of false starts in my writing life and I was absolutely certain I’d never have a good story idea again.
But then I stepped into the aquarium on Belle Isle and looked up at the jade-colored tile of the ceiling, and Betty’s story popped into my head. It was magical and surprising and something that has never happened to me before.
I have no illusions that it will ever happen again, either.
I readied myself for a novel that would be easy to write.
Boy, was I wrong.
Writing Betty’s story touched on deep wounds in my heart—watching a loved one struggle through a mental health crisis. It also made me mindful of my worst fear—losing my husband.
Needless to say, I depended on a whole bunch of wonderful people to love me through the writing of this book. I can’t possibly name every single one, but I’ll do my best.
My agent Tim Beals, who never wavered in his belief that this story mattered. Thanks, Tim, for being such a calming force in my life and career.
My editor Kelsey Bowen, who offered grace, kind encouragement, and gentle critiques which all added up to making this book what it is. It’s such an honor to build stories with you.
To Kristin Kornoelje for assuring me that I’m not the worst comma abuser in the world and for prodding me to strengthen the foundations of this novel. You make me a better writer.
To the ladies who I like to think of as the Revell Book Pushers, Michele Misiak and Karen Steele; thank you for the emails declaring your confidence in my abilities. Thanks also for putting this story into the hands of readers.
I’ll forever be grateful for friends who pray. Specifically Karee, Shelly, Ash, Amelia, and Alexis. You girls are the Marvel to my Betty and I will always love you for it.
Judy and Sarah, thank you for sharing your lives with me. You made Clara’s story so real in my heart.
Big thanks to Erin Bartels for our conversations about story in Cleveland. I hope you know how you lit a fire under my behind when you said, “You know how this story ends. Just write it.”
All the hugs and high fives to Catie Cordero for reminding me how much I loved writing when I was plumb out of steam.
Ginger, Sam, and Betsy, I am thankful for the stories you inflicted on me during our shared childhood. I couldn’t have asked for a better crew to be my siblings. I love you guys.
Dad, thanks for making up some of the most outlandish stories to tell us when we were kids. I’m still trying to figure out which ones were true.
Mom, thank you for reading books to us and creating great voices for the characters. And thanks for making sure there were always books around for us to read.
Thank you, Jocelyn Green, for listening to my self-doubt and reminding me to be as kind to myself as I am to my friends.
My eternal and deepest gratitude to Sonny Huisman for blowing up my phone with Scripture that spoke of God’s love for his children. You kept me floating with your care for me. Thank you.
To my kids, who I love more than chocolate, coffee, and a good long book. You three know what a big deal that is.
And to my own true love, Jeff. I never would have made it through this novel without your willingness to lend me your courage, your steadiness, and your confidence. I love living this story with you.
Every speck of glory to God.