You in Five Acts(86)

All the performing arts students who told me their stories and who kindly suppressed their laughter even when I asked stuff like, “Do people still throw parties? Is that still a thing?”

The real, unbelievably talented dancers both professional and amateur who inspired the characters of Joy and Diego—I am in awe of you.

My parents, Ellen and Gara, who brought me up to love the arts and to dream of one day becoming a performer—which, okay, fine, I never did, but which I sort of experienced vicariously through writing this book.

My husband, Jeff, who let me work out of his office for half the summer of 2015 while he took care of our son—and who kept a jar stocked with Tootsie Pops, a.k.a. over-the-counter Xanax, in said office.

My friends, for being wonderful and tolerant and wise and lovely, and for giving me much-needed breaks from the anxiety-ridden isolation of my apartment.

My son, Sam, for being a wonder, a light, and a welcome distraction from my work—always.

My internet-blocking app, without which I would never write anything for the rest of eternity.

My phone, through which I was still able to complain about writing on Twitter when I had the internet blocked on my computer.