Dear Reader,

I finished writing The Break-Up Book Club in early 2020, just before the coronavirus took over our lives and we found ourselves in the kind of isolation that belongs in a science fiction or horror novel, not in the lighter, more upbeat novels I write.

That August, my husband of almost thirty-five years succumbed to this virus. During the month he spent in the hospital, growing weaker and ever less responsive, I was not allowed to visit him. I couldn’t hold his hand, tell him how much I loved him, or advocate for him in person. Like all long-married couples, we had experienced our share of tough times, but nothing came close to this. I hate that he battled this horrible disease alone. That I could only have eyes on him via FaceTime or if a nurse held a phone to his ear so that he could hear my voice.

I have set this novel pre-COVID, because I couldn’t bear to include it. This book, like the others I wrote before it, revolves around friendship and laughter and women who take whatever life throws at them and become stronger because of it. I refuse to write dark and heavy just because the world sometimes feels that way.

I hope that as you read this novel, we have found a vaccine and beaten this virus into submission, and that we are once again living in a world we recognize.

That friends and family can hug each other whenever they want to, that we don’t need masks to protect ourselves and others, and that book clubs, like the very special one in this novel, are once again meeting in person.

Warmly,

Wendy