I have always written about difficult subjects, even before my own medical issues became one of them. I am often asked how I can stomach the issues I write about, the stories I hear, and the events I experience. Below are listed the precise individuals who make my work possible, as well as the institutions who supported this particular effort.
I wish to thank my editor Naomi Huffman and my agent Dawn Frederick, as well as the editors and friends who helped shape the pieces herein—particularly A. S. Hamrah, Lauren Kirchner, Daniel Kraus, Chris Lehmann, Irma Nuñez Sless-Kitain, and the truly lovely readers of my weirdo newsletter that shares a name with this project. I must also thank the brilliant illustrator Xander Marro, a sharp thinker that I am honored to work with and be inspired by in this and other endeavors.
I remain grateful for the teams who have published the work included in this volume, particularly The Los Angeles Review of Books, Women’s Review of Books, The State, Talking Points Memo, Salon, The Baffler, and elsewhere, as well as the curators at the University of Illinois at Chicago’s Gallery 400, the Miss Spoken Reading Series in Chicago, and SPACES gallery in Cleveland, Ohio, who allowed me to further explore the ideas herein. As always, Nick Butcher, Nadine Nakanishi, Reinhard Puntigam, Tim Schwartz, and my cats Thurber and All Girl Metal Band put in no small amount of emotional labor to ensure that you would eventually have access to my printed thoughts on such significant matters as talking vaginas, sanitary napkin disposal bags, and straight-up lady cannibals, and for this I offer them my deepest apologies. Finally, I must thank the Salims: thank you, kindly, for all you do to ensure my health and happiness.
Part of this book was made possible by a Kone Foundation grant, which plopped me at the Saari Residency in Finland and gave me a few hours to write between other projects. Another part of this book, a big part—the part where you take the idea for a book and turn it into some paper that is covered in words and available for purchase at bookstores—was made possible by Write A House. This unique, permanent residency program, founded by Sarah Cox and Toby Barlow in Detroit, Michigan, did not merely offer me the gift of permanent publication storage for the first time in my life, but stuck me with the kindest and most healing neighbors a girl could ever dream of. The staff, board, volunteers, and donors will forever have my gratitude.