While reading a novel is a private experience, writing one is very much a collaboration. Here are the fine folk who helped dream this book into being.
I’m so very grateful to my powerhouse editor, Emily Bestler of Emily Bestler Books, for taking a chance on my “sexy mastectomy” novel. Huge thanks to everyone at Atria/Simon & Schuster, especially the lovely Lara Jones, superstar publicists Stephanie Mendoza and Alison Hinchcliffe, and cover genius Kelly Blair.
I’m lucky to have the best agent in the biz, Allison Hunter at Janklow & Nesbit, whose diehard enthusiasm for this novel started with an email entitled OH MY GOD IT’S SO GOOD and only grew from there. Thanks also to Clare Mao for thoughtful notes/spreadsheets/Instagramming. To the fantastic Chelsea Lindman for getting the ball rolling. To Stefanie Diaz for foreign rights.
Sarah Cypher, will you always be my freelance editor and never leave me?! Collaborating on our third book together has been, as always, an absolute dream. Your ability to see the big picture and break it down for me in a way that’s understandable and achievable is something I am so, so grateful for. Ready for the next one?
Thanks to Jason Richman at UTA, and his right-hand man, Sam Reynolds. Always so fun to have an excuse to come to Beverly Hills and pretend to be fancy!
I’m thrilled to have the chance to work once again with the irrepressible Crystal Patriarche and co. at BookSparks. Thank you for being so firmly on Team Georgia and spreading the word about my work far and wide.
I am not at risk for hereditary cancer, nor have I had a preventive surgery. I was only able to bring Lacey’s story to life through the generosity and openness of those in the previvor and breast cancer community. It was an honor to enter this world, and be shown around by so many extraordinary individuals. Thank you to everyone who spoke with me and shared their experience. First up, my badass BRCA babes: Caitlin Brodnick, Cara Scharf, Grace Talusan, and Tina Moya Zotovich, who all shared stories of their preventative mastectomies, patiently answered my endless questions, and gave important feedback on early drafts. Thanks to Sue Friedman and Karen Singer at FORCE for trusting me enough to let me in. Dr. Andy Salzberg explained one-step mastectomies. Angela Arnold and Mary Freivogel introduced me to the world of genetic counselors. Dr. Neil Collier weighed in on the medical stuff.
Thanks to Anneke Jong for schooling me on start-ups and answering “just one more question.” So fun to connect with Ellen Sideri and Lindsey Smecker at ESP Trendlab. I knew nothing about trend forecasting when I started this book, but you ladies soon changed that!
Cheers to Nora Wilkinson for an insightful early read.
I created the outline for this book at Ragdale, in Lake Forest, Illinois, and worked on the drafts at the New York Writers Room: both essential spaces for authors. I adore my extended writing fam: thank you to all my fellow scribes who are so quick to cheer me on or commiserate, whatever the twisty turns the life of the writer calls for. #Bookstagram crew: #blessed every time I’m a #currentread. Many kisses for my sweet pals in Brooklyn (especially Noz/JT/Foxy/Big D/Iz), and my friends in LA and Sydney. Big thanks to the loyal Generation Women community, especially Jessica Paugh and Camila Salazar, for helping create my dream storytelling night.
Lindsay Ratowsky, the last book was dedicated to you, and even though this one isn’t, it kind of is, in that everything I do is dedicated to you. Sweet girl, I love you infinitely. Thank you for being my girlfriend, my best friend, my first reader, and my everything else. You delight me every single day; I’m so lucky to be yours. Also, hi, Chris, Craig, Justin, Erika, and all the Ratowsky fam. Love you guys!
Thanks to my family: Mum, Dad, Will, Louise, and adorable Evie. The hardest thing about living in New York is being far away from you. I feel lucky that we have such a loving, peaceful, fun family.
This book is dedicated to my dear friend, Nick “Nicki-Pee” Salzberg. A lover and a fighter, Nick passed away from complications related to T-cell lymphoma in January 2017. Nick was a part of the first family I made independent of my own, in Sydney, around the turn of the millennium. With his black eyeliner and razor-sharp tongue, Nick was a central part of every house party, every protest, every creative pursuit. He was political, funny, and fearless. The last time I saw Nick was at my Sydney book launch for The Regulars in August 2016. He had just started his fourth cycle of chemo and was very fragile, but he came, in a red scarf and blond wig, and sat in the second row. In the Q and A after the reading, he asked, with a shy, sweet smile, a question about the importance of queer visibility in my fiction. Nick taught me many things, but what resonates with me is his queerness, which felt unique and unapologetic. He was no cookie-cutter gay boy, as I doubt exists anywhere. To know Nick was to know someone grappling with the world, but not his sense of self. Nicki will always remind me to seek difference, in myself and in those around me. I love you, darling boy. You will always be with me.