The Other Black Girl(119)

And then we were two.

I swallowed as I slowly looked up at the Black woman again. Her teeth shone an impossible shade of white; her eyes, which were as dark and flat as her hair, were too glossy to reveal the veracity of her smile. But then she spoke, her polished, practiced tone striking an all-too-familiar chord within.

“Now, Shani, tell me…” Nella came closer, put a cool hand to my shoulder. “What’s it really like here? You can be real with me, sis.”





Acknowledgments


There are so many people without whom this book wouldn’t be possible. First, a big, big thank-you to the amazing team of people who helped me turn my childhood dream into a reality. Stephanie Delman, my lovely agent who believed in this project from the very beginning: thank you for your dedication, your faith, and for always being just one text message away. I couldn’t have asked for a sharper or more thoughtful agent than you, and I couldn’t have asked for a more supportive agency than Sanford J. Greenburger. A special thanks, too, to my two fierce foreign rights agents, Stefanie Diaz at Greenburger and Vanessa Kerr at Abner Stein, who both helped transport The Other Black Girl to lands I’d only dreamed my novel would see.

Lindsay Sagnette, my brilliant editor and champion: Our hours-long chats and your insightful notes exceeded all of my wildest dreams. Thank you, always, for your endless encouragement and your invigorating spirit. Fiora Elbers-Tibbitts: Your diligence—and all of the instrumental work you put into keeping the gears of this book turning smoothly and efficiently, even during a pandemic—have been essential. Milena Brown and Ariele Fredman: To say you are the best hype women is an understatement. Thank you times a million for spreading the word about this book near and far, and in such meaningful ways. So many thanks, also, to Libby McGuire, Dana Trocker, Gary Urda, and the phenomenal Simon & Schuster sales team for pulling out all the stops when it came to publishing The Other Black Girl, and to Jimmy Iacobelli, Jill Putorti, Tamara Arellano, and Carla Benton for the care and time you spent making it beautiful inside and out.

I am so grateful to everyone at Atria for being so careful and considerate when it came to every detail and decision of how this book was published, including licensing an iconic work of art by Temi Coker for the cover. And I am so grateful to you, Temi, for entrusting us with your work.

Additionally, I’d be remiss not to say that I was granted the utmost good fortune of having two additional editors help me push this book to new heights: Chelcee Johns and my UK editor, Alexis Kirschbaum. Chelcee, thank you for taking each and every single sentence of this novel to heart, and for being so generous with your time and your talents. I can’t thank you enough for your help. Alexis, your enthusiasm was palpable all the way across the pond, as was that of Amy Donegan, Emilie Chambeyron, Jasmine Horsey, and everyone at Bloomsbury. It has been such a pleasure working with you all, and I feel so lucky to have you on my team.

In addition to crossing continents, The Other Black Girl has also been given the opportunity to cross mediums. Thank you so much to my very helpful film/TV agents at UTA, Addison Duffy and Jasmine Lake, and to Tara Duncan and my entire team at Temple Hill, for showing me the ropes and believing in this story’s potential to reach even wider audiences.

Bits (okay, maybe really large chunks) of my own experiences are woven throughout this book, and the writing I submitted in my nonfiction MFA workshops, as well as to my steadfast thesis adviser, Zia Jaffrey, helped me work through many of these experiences. Thank you to everyone in the New School creative writing program who read these often raw and very personal essays. Having your eyes and your ears was invaluable, as were the friendships I made there. Alison: Your notes on my early draft were instrumental. You are one of the most generous writers and friends I have ever known. Sincere: Your enthusiastic response when I first messaged you the embryo of this idea on Google Chat while I should have been working was clutch. Thank you for helping me spot OBGs, and for giving me the space to be my unabashed, Blackity-Black self.

Genevieve, my former work wife and dear friend: I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have you to laugh and kvetch and make bad Nespresso coffee with during my publishing days. Thank you for your incredible support then and now. And thank you, too, to all of my former colleagues and authors who cheered me on when I left publishing to write this book. I printed out your kind words and still have them to this day.

Grisha, my wonderful partner: It’s not always easy living with your partner in a studio apartment, and I imagine it’s less easy while there’s a pandemic raging outside and your partner is a self-conscious writer like me. This book could not have happened without you. Thank you for talking me through tricky plot points and pulling me through moments of wondering if someone would actually want to read this book. You were right. Meow.

Last but certainly not least, all of the gratitude in the world goes to my mother and father, who nourished my love of reading and writing when I was a kid and have been nothing but encouraging—even when I quit a good job with good insurance so I could see this book through. Thank you, Dad, for all those car rides to and from karate that we spent making up scary stories together, and for showing me how important it was to write characters who looked like us. Thank you, Mom, for all those games we played on that fiftieth anniversary edition Scrabble set, and for always being there for me whenever I needed to vent or cry about life.

This is for both of you.