You First: A Joe Goldberg Prequel (You, #0)(128)

But how do you do that when the first, most profoundly loving voice you ever heard is fading? I was scared of falling into the cracks of my perpetually breaking heart. I could get a Thank You tattoo on my forehead, but they say not to make big life decisions while you’re grieving.

To Kara Cesare, author of insightful edit letters that belong in print: Your optimism inspires me. You see the big picture, the single sentence. You love. And yay for your Sex and the City binging! Thank you, Joe Bank…I mean Josh Bank. Lanie Davis, you have the superpower to hold hundreds of pages in your head. And a big heart. Gabby Colangelo, may this one be the first of many. Thank you all for truly having my back as a writer, a daughter, and a basket case.

To my fabulous agents and managers: I feel lucky to be in this with you. Alexandra Machinist, if you had a podcast, I’d be there. Olivia Blaustein, David Stone, and Ellie Klein, thank you for believing in me and rooting for me and helping me grow.

Random House, you amaze me. Example: I gave Joseph Perez a vague, broad take on my vision for the cover and…Holy smokes. There it is. Gorgeous. Ayelet Durantt, Michelle Jasmine, and Peter Dyer, you make all things publishing go up up up. This book is a beauty because of the production team: Michelle Daniel, Sandra Sjursen, Susan Turner, and Ruby Levesque. Thank you, Andy Ward, for the constant, contagious zeal and talent that you and your team poured into these pages.

To my brother, Alex: You swept in like a hero when I needed you the most. To Beth and the best boys Jonathan and Joshua: I love you. You fed me, you are all balloons, love. You made Nana smile. Me too. To Frankie Frascatore: Morgan Fairchild would applaud your spot-on FaceTime reading of this work in progress. Thank you for helping me hear young Joe.

To my friends and family who held my hand on the phone and showed up in the haze of my turmoil and my rewrite(s) and met me on the dance floor, in the kitchen, on the Cape, in the parking lot, in the yard, in the hospital, in Birds, and at Sam’s, always with your distinctive zest and glory, your love: A good friend is a run-on sentence that never ends, even when it does. And you know how I feel about run-on sentences. Thank you for feeding my soul. I love you.

To my mom: As I said in the Providence dedication…Thank you for life. You too, Daddos.

Our time on this planet is kinda like a relationship with Joe Goldberg. We don’t get out alive. So thank you, dear reader, for choosing to spend your precious hours with my words and feelings. It is an honor, always.