The first flashes of this story came to me at a seemingly mundane moment, during a very scary and uncertain time in my young family’s life. To see it realized more than ten years (and even more drafts) later is like finally arriving at a destination I thought I’d never reach. I have so many people to thank for helping me along the way.
Liesa Abrams, thank you for taking on this book and helping me transform it into more than I ever imagined it could be. The care you take with every scene, your kindness and sensitivity, your patience and humor, and your rare ability to empathize and understand the core of what I’m trying to say even when I say it badly make you the best kind of person to have in my corner, both as an editor and a friend. I hope we never tire of telling stories together.
Mara Anastas, Rebecca Vitkus, and the rest of the Simon & Schuster team, thank you—for being the perfect landing place for my stories and my voice, and for bringing this book to life. Your guidance and support has been invaluable; I’ll always be proud of the Simon Pulse logo on my books.
Christa Heschke, I will always remember the day you took a chance on an unknown writer with an awkward query letter, a dismal social media presence, and a manuscript crowded with angst, metaphors, and semicolons, and gave her the opportunity to become a real live author. Thank you so much for believing in my work and in me, and for supporting all my twisted, barely realized inklings, from the moment they spark to life until I manage, somehow, to pummel them into books. I couldn’t ask for a better—or more patient—agent or advocate. I’m so grateful to be on #TeamMandO.
Shannon Powers, few appreciate my gritty dark side quite like you. Thank you for all you did to bring this book to this point, and for helping me navigate “being an author” in the early days.
Daniele Hunter, thank you for your unending support. You’re the awesome fangirl every writer hopes to have, and I’m so lucky to work with you, now and in the future.
Julie Hutchings, your enthusiasm for this book gave me the push I needed to reach for more than I thought I deserved. I can’t imagine where I’d be without your help—the world would be a markedly drearier place without your lovely words, keen eye, and generous heart. Thank you.
Much appreciation to Katie Rogers at Pages and Pugs for hosting the cover reveal, for your kindness in promoting my work, and for all your (and Cubert’s!) help and support. Thank you so much, for everything.
Everlasting gratitude to Jennifer Moffett, Alex Richards, Shannon Takaoka, Shana Youngdahl, Liz Lawson, Rachel Lynn Solomon, and every other author whose words inspired me and whose support and friendship helped so very much during the infamous 2020 debut year. And to everyone who read my words and loved them, thank you—for the beautiful aesthetics and heartfelt reviews; for navigating my cynical, possum-choked Twitter feed and the tangle of yarn, flowers, baked goods, and reposts of other people’s art and aesthetics that is my Instagram presence; for reaching out to me, even in the smallest ways. You are seen and appreciated, always.
Jill Corddry and Ron Walters, each of you hold a permanent place in these pages. Without you, Ron, there would be no Nat, and this book would be a very different thing. Thank you for reminding me that I actually do control the outcome of my own stories, at least to a certain extent. Jill, without your encouragement, friendship, and willingness to extract me from my own head and talk sense into the space left behind, who even knows what I’d be doing? The EWC is invaluable to me, not only for the infinite patience you both have for what must, by this point, be a higher total word count than any of us care to admit, but for your honesty, humor, commiseration, and constant, steady support over the many years and many, many, many (many) drafts. I can never thank either of you enough.
This book, above all else, is about family, so it almost goes without saying that it would’ve been pretty tough for me to write it without the eternal tempest of love and chaos that comprises my own family—nuclear and extended, blood and chosen—and the absolute avalanche of friends and relatives who came out of the woodwork to cheer me on: Mom and Dad, Pat, Justin, Erika, David, Johnny, Brad, Susan, Maggie, Ed (and Odin!), Liss, Tara, Bridget, Jenn, Renard, Joe, Allison, Heidi, Sarah, Kim, Nicole, Kat, Holly, Tisheena, and far too many more to name in this small space. Your outpour of love, acceptance, and encouragement has overwhelmed me in the very best way. Cynthia Thornton, thank you for the early read, conversation, feedback, and sangria, and for always being awesome. Betsy Davis, for your extreme generosity in the coordination and execution of the sneakiest of redhead-devised plots, I am so very grateful. You’re an amazing friend (as is the aforementioned redhead). Thanks to Alexa King, whose land was the literal and figurative jumping-off point. And special thanks to Emily, for loving this story even in its ghastly early days, and for being my cocreator in my earliest Charlene-and-Minnie-based storytelling adventures. So much love to all of you.
Henry and Cora, thank you for your patience with my “work time,” for making me laugh and think and keep on keeping on. You are the heart and soul of everything I do. That you’re “proud of Mama” means the world—I can’t wait until you’re old enough to read the rest of these pages.
Brandon, this book would not exist without our journey—the literal one and the metaphorical one. We’ve come a long way from our starting point; I couldn’t be prouder of the family we’ve built, nor could I be happier that we’ve stayed the course. Thank you for continuing forward with me, every day.
And, once again, for Gini—the very first of my found family. Miss you forever.