If you’ve read the acknowledgments of my last novel, Afterlove, you’ll know that before it was published, I stopped writing for a while. It seems that in the intervening years the landscape of publishing has changed. The most notable of these changes being social media and the artery it now provides between myself and the people who read my books.
I must admit, I found this startling at first: the inboxes of my various accounts slowly filling with messages from people who had discovered Afterlove and could get in touch in a way that they weren’t able to with my previous books. Whether that was a few urgent lines on Instagram to let me know how keenly they felt something or tagging me in a video on TikTok of them wallowing in bed, asking where their Poppy is.
Each message lingered for days, but the ones that have remained with me were the ones from readers who were desperate to read Afterlove, but couldn’t because of the cover.
It hadn’t even occurred to me that the cover would be an issue. I remember how I gasped when I first saw it, then the tears that followed because after nine years of fighting for a cover like that, there it was … two girls kissing and one of them is brown. It felt like more than a triumph, it felt like something was finally shifting, a fierce flare in the sky to signal a change was coming.
But then the messages began trickling in. Messages that were gushing and tender at first—how pretty Afterlove was, how desperate they were to read it—but the joy swiftly faltered as they asked if there would be an alternative cover that wasn’t so shamelessly sapphic.
It made me unreachably sad, but it took a while to realize why … because fifteen-year-old Tanya wouldn’t have been able to read a novel with a cover like that either, and I felt for those readers in a way I am still not able to appropriately articulate.
I’m forty-seven and given the increasingly hysterical rhetoric about the LGBTQ+ community that has led to books like Afterlove being banned, it would be forgivable to say nothing has changed since I was a teenager and to fold beneath the weight of that. I almost did myself, but then those readers began to get in touch to say that they’d found a way to read Afterlove. They’d had it delivered to a friend’s house or their school librarian had kept it so they could read it during lunch. One person even read a chapter every day at their local bookshop after school.
Perhaps nothing has changed, but that’s definitely one thing that never will: the resilience and resourcefulness of teenagers. So, to those readers, please know that I see you and I appreciate you and I promise to always be honest with you and that I will do my very best to not waste your time and try to write stories that are worth the effort you’ve made to read them.
And to echo my dedication, I want any teachers, librarians, or booksellers reading this right now to know how grateful I am that you make sure books like these end up in the hands of those that need them the most. I don’t know how I even begin to thank you for something like that, but for now, these few sentences will have to suffice.
Thanks also to the libraries and bookshops like the Queery in Brighton, Gay’s the Word in London, and Queer Lit in Manchester that not only champion books like this, but provide warm, welcoming spaces for readers to discover them.
While I’m shouting out bookshops, I must extend my eternal gratitude to my favorites in Brighton … much love and thanks to Sam and the team at Waterstones, Ruth at the Feminist Bookshop, Julie and Vanessa at the Book Nook, and Rem at Kemptown Bookshop, who have all been hugely supportive and not only hand sold Afterlove, but put it on tables and in windows and made it a Staff Pick.
Without those people, Afterlove wouldn’t have reached so many readers and I am forever grateful.
And without these people, you wouldn’t be reading this book right now …
First and foremost, my long-suffering agent, Claire Wilson, who puts up with so much yet never waivers in her conviction that I can do this. My wonderful and equally patient editor, Lizzie Clifford, and the rest of the team at Hachette Children’s Group who have worked so hard and been so passionate about the story I was trying to tell and made sure that you got to read it. To the sensitivity readers who were so honest and generous with their feedback despite the difficult subject matter, I am so touched by your kind words and encouragement.
To the astonishingly talented Sarah Maxwell, who illustrated the cover of Afterlove. I was blessed to have Sarah illustrate this one as well, which is even more beautiful, if that’s possible.
To my brother, Hannah and the boys, and my friends Hannah, Suzi, Tracy, Angela, and Maya, who put up with me saying, “I can’t! I’m on deadline!” and are still there when I’m not. To Holly and Sara, who talk me off a ledge at least once a week and always remind me that the misery of writing is worth it because when it works, it’s magic.
To everyone who has taken the time to read, review, and recommend my books and to those of you who have sent me messages and made TikTok videos, done artwork, made friendship bracelets, and curated playlists, please know that it’s you that I write for and I hope you continue to enjoy the stories that I tell.
Finally, I want to thank the person who got in touch with me after they read Afterlove to say, “This is the love I deserve and I will accept nothing less.” To you and anyone else who needs to hear it … yes, you do, darling, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.