I am immensely grateful to the vibrant community of writers, readers, and beloveds who have shaped and supported this book, and me, in every way. Writing can be lonely business. You all keep me just the right amount of weird.
Thank you to the following people who engaged with this novel through reading or conversation: Alex McWalters, Danilo John Thomas, Dara Ewing, Heather Newton, Jesse Delong, Jessica Jacobs, Jessica Richardson (x2!), Joe Sacksteder, Latria Graham, Mary Edith Burrell, Tom Cotsonas, the Flatiron Writers, the Accountability Workshop writers, who keep me on my toes, and, really, anyone I’ve talked to about writing in the last four years and said some version of “I definitely cannot write this novel,” and you said some version of “I think you probably can.”
Thank you to the institutions that supported my writing life during the creation of this book: the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, the Sewanee Writers’ Conference, Warren Wilson College, and Tin House’s Next Book Residency.
Every book is in conversation with its predecessors; I am grateful to these authors especially: Shirley Jackson, Toni Morrison, Gabriel Tallent, Leni Zumas, Lauren Groff, Ross Gay, Li-Young Lee, Bessel van der Kolk, Jacqueline Rose, Suzanne Simard, and Mary Shelley.
Ellen Levine, agent I admire; Jenna Johnson, editor I adore, who trusted that I would find my way with this book: thank you, thank you. And thanks, too, to the wonderous team at FSG: Lianna Culp, Janine Barlow, Sara Wood—who designed the book’s beautiful cover—and all the other hands behind the scenes who make our stories into books.
To the Hot Moms Writing Club, aka the Dog Pound, aka the Mothers of Destruction, Annie Hartnett, Clare Beams, and Rufi Thorpe: boundless gratitude and admiration; I am learning how to be a writer in the world from you. And Annie, especially, business wife who always has the best jokes—thank you.
For friendships that sustain me, for brilliance that dazzles: Devin Gribbons, Anna Welton, and AB Gorham. My tree’s roots.
And my family, always: Davy, Sam, Dad, Nico, and my mom, Teresa, who is no longer alive and yet is alive in every single sentence I write.
Thank you to Jeremy, whose love and support make this all possible. And to Leela, whose arrival has made everything new again. And to coffee, for helping us survive Leela’s arrival.
And finally, thank you to the women who told me about how they thought their lives might be different if they were never afraid. I wish it for you.