If there’s one thing this industry has taught me, it’s that every book’s a different beast. Like a great, unsolvable puzzle, the moment you think you’ve got your process down, it changes again. As I prepare for my third book to enter the world, I can’t help but feel so lucky I got to solve this particular riddle. I got to do this again, and I got to do it better than the last time and the time before that. Not everyone is given the chance to grow their craft like this, to feel around for the type of story they ultimately want to tell. What the Woods Took reminded me how wonderful it feels to write knowing that you’re producing your best work. I’m so incredibly proud of this book, and I have a never-ending list of people to thank for its existence.
To my editor, Sarah Grill. Thank you for seeing the magic in this book and for taking leaps and bounds out of your comfort zone to get into the nasty, nightmarish horror of this forest with me. Thank you for your insight, for your patience, and for championing this story every day. Also for the Google meeting titles that made me laugh at 7 A.M. when I needed it most. Thank you also to Vanessa Aguirre and Sara Goodman for stepping in to guide this book to the finish line. Publishing can be full of surprises, but I’m glad I landed with you!
Thank you also to all the folks at Wednesday Books who made this possible. To my wonderful cover designer, Kerri Resnick, and to Peter Strain for illustrating and always making my books shine. Thank you, Austin Adams, Brant Janeway, Lena Shekhter, Alyssa Gammello, Eric Meyer, Merilee Croft, NaNa Stoelzle, and Michelle McMillian.
To Claire Friedman and Jess Mileo, thank you for guiding this book to its home and for talking me off the ledge time and time again. Three books in and I think we’ve created a beautiful empire of terror lesbians together. The sky is the limit, and I can’t wait to see all the chaos we get up to next.
To Allison Saft. I cannot thank you enough for pulling me through the trenches until this book was done. We both know that you can love a project to pieces and still hate the grind, but you made every second of drafting this book a joy. These kids never would’ve made it out of this forest without you, and sometimes it feels like I wouldn’t have, either!
To the many folks who read and loved this book from its early stages. Thank you to Ava Reid, Rachel Morris, Adrienne Tooley, Rebecca Mahoney, Jessica Lewis, Elizabeth Kilcoyne, Alison Ames, Birdie Schae, Chloe Marron, Rosiee Thor, and Kalie Barnes-Young. To Lachelle for always being my first reader and for loving my characters in every evolution from idea to hardcover. To Megan Lally and Bekah Corral for being friends, sounding boards, cult brethren, shoulders to cry on, and always available for spontaneous celebration! You’ve made my time in this city a thousand times better. Thank you to Sytel Oelke for always being there, no matter how long it’s been. To the teatime crew: Ingrid, Rachel, Sylvie, Adrian, and Maylen. Thank you, Anna Loose, for seeing my emotional breakdowns and becoming the world’s funniest motivational speaker. Thank you, Alex Clayton, for everything, always, all the time. Words aren’t enough.
To those who read What the Woods Took and offered kind words to help me promote it—Ryan Douglass, Trang Thanh Tran, Adam Sass, and Ann Fraistrat. You are creating my absolute favorite stories in this corner of the queer horror universe, and having your eyes on this book meant the world.
Thank you, Mom, Dad, Grandma, Davis, and all the rest. The kids in this book don’t all have families that raise them up and make them feel loved, no matter what. We’ve all come a long way together, and I’m so grateful to have had you in my corner.
To Carly. I barely know where to start with you. This book wouldn’t exist without your passion for children and restorative care. You’ve taught me more than you know over the course of these last few years. You wield a kind of compassion that’s so rare in this world, and every child you’ve helped is better for it (including these fictional ones). From reading early chapters to offering feedback on the very bones of this book, you’ve been instrumental in its creation. I couldn’t ask for a better sister, friend, and ally on this journey. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
And to the person reading this, thank you for picking up a story about a group of lost kids finding their way home. I hope you find home, too, whatever that looks like. I hope you learn to breathe again. You deserve it.