And now, if you will indulge an extra dose of sentimentality, this is where I admit this book is my first written fully since the passing of my dear friend Diane Gaidry. The pain of her loss knocked me flat and changed me in ways I found overwhelming and at times frightening. The grief had a profound effect on every part of my life, but perhaps most dramatically on my creative abilities. I didn’t write at all for months, and when I did it was a challenge unlike any other I have faced in my career. I’m not at all sure I would have had the strength or the will to keep trying if not for the people around me who refused to let me fade into obscurity. Thank you first to Anna Burke, who reached out to me almost every day, to check in or sometimes just sit with me in the awfulness. Thank you to Nikki Smalls, who continued to poke me until I would answer, and then kept throwing ideas at me until some of them stuck. Thank you to Georgia Beers and Melissa Brayden, who insisted I belonged in their writerly conversations even when I didn’t believe I had anything left to offer. Thank you to Alex and Jess for eating nachos and watching Gentleman Jack with me when it’s all I had the mental space to do. And thank you to the Shibden After Dark crew for indulging the first wild ideas I’d had in ages. I still miss Diane every single day, and some days that still feels like more than I can handle, but thanks to the people listed above, I know I don’t have to face it alone.

I also want to thank my therapist, Leah Eagan, who helped me finally begin to build the skills I needed to start pulling myself out of the pit. There is such a stigma around mental health in America, but if I can do my tiny part to combat that here, please let me. Your mental health matters. You matter. If you are struggling with grief, depression, anxiety, or any of the other number of complex issues that make you feel like you’re in too deep or unable to cope on your own, please reach out. I know it’s hard, I know it’s scary, but trust me, it’s worth it.