Bright Lines (29 page)

I
n the last decade of working on this novel, I am forever grateful to so many wondrous people in my life:

My parents, Neelu and Ashraf, encouraged me to follow the creative path, no matter how much meandering and uncertainty it has required. My sister, Promiti, is the smartest, warmest, and most kindred spirit I have in this world. Ours is a family where art, love, and laughter happen in step with mistakes and life’s travails, but still we keep on.

Rebecca Friedman, my agent, for her vivacity, passion, and friendship. Sending you the basket of herbs on your birthday, the same day we sent
Bright Lines
on its way, was auspicious, to say the least. To my editor, Allison Lorentzen, for her vision and trust in this book, even when we didn’t know what this would be. Thanks to the entire team at Penguin, for all of their efforts in making this whole.

To my family in Bangladesh and beyond, for their love, generosity, support, and knowledge: Subarno, Boshudha, Shilu Ma, Shaheen, Nanu, Putu Bhaiyya, Ferdous Mama.

While working as an organizer and teaching artist, I met bright and talented young women writers, actors, and playwrights in high schools around New York City. Adilka, Santy, Sarah, Oona, for the magic that is Make the Road, my first gig where I learned that all teaching is learning. To all of my teachers: Kiese Laymon, for those early lessons in how we must have an abiding love for the truth that fiction unwittingly leads us toward. At Brooklyn College, I learned
from glorious writers, masters of craft whose lessons have stayed with me: Francisco Goldman, Fiona Maazel, Ernesto Mestre-Reed, Josh Henkin.

To all the random hustles and heartbreaks I’ve worked through, the Brooklyn cafés I worked out of, the music of Mulatu Astatke, Johnny Osborne, OutKast, Erykah Badu, and Juana Molina for being easy to listen to on repeat. So much love to the writers and editors at the Asian American Writers’ Workshop, VONA Workshop,
Hyphen
magazine,
The Feminist Wire
. Being a part of these communities has nurtured an electric, vital connectivity.

I’m grateful for friends and teachers whose artistry, love, and openness is my muse. Ngozi, for our endlessly blossoming soul-sisterhood. Alex, Shilu, Sunita, for being first readers and lifelong friends. Alicia, Fran, Carina, Amita, Max: Our early creative collaborations at Vassar were numinous experiences, full of possibility, and here we are, years later, still experimenting. Victor, all this, from a random hello. Isabel Saez, for your guidance in unfurling the past to make way for the future.

Mojo Talantikite, my love, for his profound support during this homestretch, as a keen reader and loving partner. I stay tripping over you.

To my inspiring crew of artists, activists, and creative entrepreneurs, for being bright and beautiful spirits who reiterate that we must make art to live.

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