ACTIVISTS:
Ashley Murphy is a young woman who was born with HIV and gives speeches and writes columns about her experiences. You can follow her on Twitter at @TheAshleyRose_ or watch her TED Talk, “How to Be Extraordinary” (July 2, 2015).
Ben Banks has written and spoken a lot about how having HIV hasn’t stopped him from having children (which is something Simone worries about). He’s written for Time and was commended for his work by President Obama.
Shawn Decker and his partner, Gwenn, are a sero-diverse couple who use their relationship as a jumping-off point to talk about sexual health. Visit them at shawnandgwenn.com or follow Shawn at @shawndecker.
George M. Johnson is a queer black man with HIV who writes about his experiences, including in his YA memoir, All Boys Aren’t Blue (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2020). Visit him at iamgmjohnson.com or follow him at @iamgmjohnson.
Rae Lewis-Thornton is a black woman who has had HIV for over thirty years. She blogs about her experiences at raelewisthornton.com, and you can also follow her on Twitter at @raelt.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’ve been on my publishing journey ever since I was thirteen, so my acknowledgments are long and very dramatic. I apologize in advance.
The first person I have to thank is my mother, because this book wouldn’t exist without her. Mom: I read the dedication to you and you didn’t “get it.” So “for Mom, always,” means I’m able to do all of this because of you. All of your love and support and everything you’ve sacrificed. For never once doubting me, even though I do it all the time. I love you more than anything, even though you don’t read.
Bri: I don’t even know where to start. Thank you for pulling me out of the slush and seeing something there. For taking a chance on me. For teaching me more about writing than I thought I could possibly learn with one book. For your editor’s eye, your business sense, and the fact you don’t take any shit. For being honest. For answering all my random emails and all the brainstorming sessions. For coming up with the sex-store scene. For laughing at all my jokes. For making my dreams come true. I couldn’t ask for a better agent.
Allie: I just want to leave you a bunch of exclamation points, but that’s not fair. Thank you for answering emails with weird questions and reassuring me every time I freaked out (which was often). For listening to me talk about college. For freaking out about the cover of this book with me. For your notes and your attention and your hard work. For your support. You’re the best.
Thank you to Katherine for offering on this book after a day like a maniac and giving me an asthma attack. For your excitement, dedication, and your vision for this project. For believing in Simone and her story. For believing in me. For making my dreams come true. Thank you to the rest of the publishing team, specifically Melanie Nolan, Kerry Johnson, Janet Renard, Jazzmine Walker, Sylvia Al-Mateen, Artie Bennett, Jake Eldred, Mary McCue, Andrea Comerford, and Emily DuVal. It’s been such a pleasure working with you all.
Thank you to Theodore Samuels, Rhesa Smith, Jen Heuer, and Alison Impey for the cover of my dreams, and to Stephanie Moss for the beautiful interior design. I always fantasized about having a book published, but never could imagine what it would actually look like, and now I feel like the luckiest writer in the world every time I look at this book. Thank you all for your work on this gorgeous package.
Thank you to the entire UK team, including Naomi Colthurst, Amanda Punter, Simon Armstrong, Ruth Knowles, Ben Horslen, Amy Wilkerson, Francesca Dow, and Michael Bedo. You’ve all had so much enthusiasm throughout this entire process. Thank you for your notes and your positivity and the pamphlet you made me before the deal (which is saved on my desktop). It’s been so great working with you. A very special thanks to Emma Jones, who is the absolute best.
Thank you to Dad for all the hours in the bookstore. For never refusing to buy me a book, even when I was only supposed to get two. For all the hours I hung out on the computer next to you in your office and typed on my diary. For your old computer. For all the memories.
Jayden: I doubt you’ll read this, but thank you for being my sister.
Thank you to Aunt Jessica for never thinking anything I wanted to do was weird. Thank you for never telling me to slow down. Thank you for being the coolest, in general.
Thank you to Mark for being more excited than me about this book sometimes. For tweeting my Goodreads link and reading my work and sending me memes. For your friendship, even when I’m a pain. For sharing yourself and your words with me. For being you. I love you, and those black shoes.
To Michael: You once said you think the “best friend” thing is stupid, but you’re one of my best friends, so you have to deal with it. I feel like we’ve grown up with each other, even though we live in different places. I’m so grateful to have you in my life. I’m grateful for Teens Can Write, Too!, which let me believe I could be a writer. I’m grateful for every complaint you listened to, for every time you somehow found a way to help me hang on. Thank you for making me feel like you were in the next room when you were farther away. For believing in me and being gentle and also ruthlessly funny at the same time. For everything. You’re amazing and I love you.
To Aisha, thank you for stalking me on Twitter and starting our friendship; thank you for reading Drew’s story and believing so much in it, even though it didn’t work out. For introducing me to different viewpoints and making stupid jokes.
To Maliha: For taking pictures of me when I signed the contract. For coming up to middle school and telling me you liked my shirt; for the framed picture of me staring dramatically out a window that’s still on my nightstand. For shipping Stucky with me. For naming Ren, even though his book didn’t get published. For your friendship.
To Natalia, Gabi, Abi: Thank you for making high school bearable. Thank you for being the friends I could talk to about literally anything. Thank you for answering odd questions about sex at lunch or via the group chat. Thank you for inspiring Simone, Claudia, and Lydia. You’re the first group of girlfriends I felt especially close to. I love your makeup skills and how great you are at making art. I love that none of you know what you’re doing. I love that you know everything and nothing all at once. I love that there’s always one of you awake at two in the morning. I love the memes from Tumblr and the characters you think up. Thank you for listening to me talk about imaginary people. Thank you for loving me for who I am. I love you.
Thank you, Chey, because you’d probably torture me if I didn’t include you here. Thank you for being one of my first friends at college. I’m so excited to see what we create together in the future.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, Miss Kalter. You were excited for me when I couldn’t process anything and I love you for it. Thank you for being proud and happy and so awesome, even before I got this deal. For introducing me to different sides of storytelling. For listening to me ramble at the beginning of the school day and during random periods. For everything.
Thank you to every English teacher I’ve ever had. Thanks for letting me hang out in your classrooms and talk about books, even when I was supposed to be somewhere else. Specific thanks to Dr. Johnson for being visible and making sure all the other black kids were, too.
To Jenni Walsh: For being my first substantial critique partner. For reading my really bad writing, somehow getting through it, and giving me important notes that I took with me when writing my next books. For letting me know it was okay to slow down, that I didn’t need a book by the time I was sixteen. For your guidance.
To Shveta: For your warmth. For listening to me complain about writing and everything that frustrated me about it. For sharing your knowledge and your own journey with me. For your words and your presence. For generally being great.
To Lana Wood Johnson, who said, “You won’t ever be the Oprah of daytime television. Or Shonda of nighttime TV. You’ll be the Camryn of…” I’
ve been thinking about it ever since you said it, and I’ll continue to think about it long after this book is published. Thank you for saying it.
To my Wakanda Ladies: Adrienne, Elle, Angie, and Cara. Thank you for the safe space to complain about things only you-all would understand. Thank you for the guidance and for acting as honorary aunties. For paving the way for me.
To Mason, Cody, Ava: For letting me freak out over the smallest parts of the journey. For reading the book early on and falling in love with it. Thank you to Cody, for coming up with the title. For your encouragement and your excitement. For your advice. For your friendship.
To Courtney Milan: For your generosity. For giving me advice about things no one I know really understands. For taking it upon yourself to help me in ways no one (literally no one, at all) would expect you to. For looking at me, seeing I needed help, and saying, “Yeah, I’ll do this myself.” For being a resource and a person I could go to with questions. For your Twitter feed in general. Thank you.
To Nita: For being one of the best critique partners! For all the complaints we’ve shared about everything related to publishing. For sharing stories about your girls falling in love. For your soft, lyrical writing. For your friendship.
To Kaye: For your warm spirit. Your smiles and kindness shine through tweets, even back when they were only 140 characters long. Thank you for lifting me up before I thought I deserved it. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for consistently being such a lovely person. You are the best.
To Kacen Callender: For giving me an R&R on the book of my heart. It wasn’t ready, but I loved it (and I still do) and I think you loved it—or at least really liked it—too. Thank you for giving me that chance. Thank you for working with me and teaching me. Thank you for letting me know I still had work to do. To Rebecca Podos for your lovely rejection/offer letter. It gave me the ammunition to keep querying. And to Alexandra Machinist for the nicest rejection letter in the history of queries. It’s still favorited in my email account. It meant so much to me when I first read it and still does.
To Nic Stone: For reading one of my earlier books and giving me notes. For the help you gave me, even when I wasn’t exactly ready for it. For paving the way with your own work. To Becky Albertalli for being generally amazing and so, so kind. To Justina Ireland: For showing me I’m allowed to speak up about what’s important. For being a badass. For welcoming me into the community when I was fifteen. For inspiring me.
To Wendy Xu: For being a protective Twitter auntie. For the talk we had about success and how it doesn’t need to happen when you’re so young. I needed to hear it.
To Sierra Elmore and Phil Stamper: For staying in the group chat, even though no one is making you. For listening to me talk about who and what I’m attracted to and answering embarrassing questions. I’m not thankful for all the times you dragged me, but I am thankful for all the times you listened.
To Dahlia Adler: For the amount of work you do for the YA community in general, but specifically for queer books. I’m in awe of you. For reminding me that f/f YA books exist, even when I didn’t think they did. For recommending the best books. For the Figgy pictures whenever I’m sad. You’re the best.
To Rachel Strolle: For all you do for the YA book community. For the little mock-up version of the cover you made when the book was first announced. For your excitement. You’re the best.
To Taylor and Liz: For being two of the first people to publish me on the Internet. For the community you created at HuffPost Teen. For staying in touch after that awesome moment ended. For your tweets and your help and every time you guys congratulated me. For being young and hip and cool. For hooking me up with opportunities after you were no longer obligated to. For creating more than one space where my voice mattered.
To all my HuffPost Teen people: Bekah, Leo, Sam, Erin, Lauren, Taylor, Emma (who snuck in somehow without us realizing it). You were all older cool kids and I wanted to be just like you. I’m pretty sure that’s why I started writing books. Okay, it’s part of it, anyway.
Thank you to those I wrote with at MTV Founders. Thank you to Rookie, specifically Tavi Gevinson, Diamond Sharp, and Derica Shields. It was the first (and so far only) experience I had where only black women were editing my work. I loved it and was extremely proud to be published by Rookie.
Thank you to Julie Zeilinger for running the WMC FBomb and giving me opportunities to rant about Stranger Things and interview people about herpes.
Thank you, especially, to the TIME for Kids Kid Reporter Contest, which was the first step in my journey as a published author. I was edited by a real editor and interviewed people who wrote actual books and were in movies. For the first time, I wasn’t so shy. For the first time, I thought my words could make me a big deal. Thank you for that experience. I’ll always cherish it.
Thank you so much to Shawn Decker, Sakhile Moyo, Vic Vela, Nina Martinez, and Nick Cady for sharing your expertise and making this book as real and authentic as possible. Thank you so much for your time and your knowledge.
I also have to thank the people who have been following me and cheering me on via Twitter since I was fifteen, including, but not limited to: Molli, Leah, Chasia, Gabe, Saba, Summer, Kelley, Anne, Katherine, Hannah, Justine, Gwenda, Brandon, Tehlor, Marieke, Meagan, Ellen, Julie, Rebekah, Angie M., Nafiza, Samira, Jessie, Ami, Alyssa, Sarah, Katie. Thank you to everyone who follows me and has to deal with my ramblings at all times of the day. The people who engage in conversation with me over random things and teach me about subjects I know nothing about. For making Twitter a community, even when the rest of the website is a garbage fire. Specifically, thank you to all the teens on Twitter. Some of you aren’t under the same usernames and some of you are still here. Thank you for all your thoughts. Thank you for holding the YA community accountable and forcing us to be better. Thank you for the work you do. Thank you just for being there.
I also need to shout out to the queer community, especially the black queer community. You were hit the hardest with HIV and AIDS, and this community survived. Thank you to the elders and those who continue to keep the memories of those who passed alive. Thank you to everyone who was out on the streets at the height of the AIDS crisis, protesting and demanding. Thank you to groups like ACT UP for fighting, always fighting. I wasn’t even there and I feel so indebted to all of you. Thank you. I’m so glad this community exists and I’m so grateful to be part of it.
Finally, I have to thank you, dear reader, for picking up this book. For making it to the end, even if you skipped. Not every book is for everyone. But thank you for giving me a chance.
LOUISA WELLS
CAMRYN GARRETT grew up in New York and began her writing career at thirteen, when she was selected as a TIME for Kids reporter, interviewing celebrities like Warren Buffett and Kristen Bell. Since then, her writing has appeared on MTV and in HuffPost and Rookie magazine, and she was recently selected as one of Teen Vogue’s “21 Under 21: Girls and Femmes Who Are Changing the World.” When she’s not writing, she studies film at NYU, and she’s a proud advocate for diverse stories and storytellers in any medium. Full Disclosure is her first novel.
CAMRYNGARRETT.COM
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