Leaving Isn't the Hardest Thing(83)

Leta Seletzky and Andrea Avery, thank you for reading these half-baked words and finding something to praise. It’s an honor to be in the trenches with you. Squaw Valley group ten, I could not have imagined a better workshop. Jennifer Graham, thank you for getting my ass to the coffee shop, for the tacos, the beer, and your friendship. Thank you to Moira Donegan, for your friendship, for helping an old dyke with her homework. Heather Havrilesky, for reading this crap, for volunteering as my personal advice dispenser, for the constant support. To Roxane Gay, thank you for being my champion and friend. Thank you to Andria Williams for reading early versions, for publishing my story in The Wrath-Bearing Tree, for your friendship.

   Thank you to the many writers, artists, and freaks who’ve supported me, read essays, blurbed me, lent advice, listened to my whining, shit-talked my nemeses, and made this possible: Megan Stack, Julie Powell, Janet Fitch, Tanya Tarr, Michael Schaub, Andrea Pitzer, Alexander Chee, Charlotte Clymer, Lucas Schaefer, Vincent Scarpa, Thomas Pluck, Benjamin Dreyer, Duchess Goldblatt, Alice Anderson, Tammy Ingram, Jennifer Bendery, Ashley Ford, Leah Hampton, Adam Savage, Nicole Cliffe, Whitney Brown, Julia Park Tracey, Erin Khar, William Fatzinger, Lyz Lenz, Cari Luna, Nick Arvin, Mary Childs, Amy Bloom, Jason Roberts, Kate Mannion, and Seamus Bellamy, sup.

A special thank-you to my friend Taylor Stevens, who all but forced me to keep writing, who encouraged me to write the truth, and who never let me give up. I owe you a debt I can never repay. Thank you to my fellow cult babies, especially Whisper, Sara, Jennifer, Janet, Kylie, Juliana, and Dia. Thank you to Gretchen Ramke, for your friendship, and the acid, but not the horror movies. Thank you, Ty Brewster. Thank you, Cate Blanchett. Thank you, Lars Loving. Anita Sterrett, Jay Johns, Archer Hellick, and Joey Oldaker, thank you.

Thank you, Karl Poss IV, my web designer and photographer, who managed to feed me enough tequila that I smiled in a picture.

Thank you to the entire staff and a few of the patrons at the Iron Bear. I could not have asked for better bosses than Jason Grodzinsky and Ben Besh, who paid me to sit at the front door and read and write, and occasionally check an ID, and who somehow didn’t shitcan me that month I showed up an hour late for every goddamn shift.

   To my parents, siblings, niece and nephew, my aunts, and Carly, thank you for supporting me. Though I know you probably wish I’d been a painter, plumber, anything but a writer. Thank you for the dog-sitting, reading, and conversations that weren’t about this book.

These essays were written mostly at Once Over Coffee and Radio Coffee & Beer in Austin. I hope I get to sit on your patios again one day. Thank you to the cast and crew of Schitt’s Creek for the therapy; Jason Isbell, John Prine, Emmylou Harris, and Patty Griffin for the music; Sour Patch Kids for the sugar rush; my Patreon subscribers for the vet bills; and you know who you are for the weed.

To the love of my life, Teddy, thank you. If it weren’t for you, I might’ve finished this six months earlier. But it would’ve been boring as shit. You’re the best dog.