In all the years I worked there, I thought of the back lot as a sort of extension of my house. Since I often spent more time there than at my actual house, it made sense. But it’s different on the lot now. Warner Brothers gives tours there now, which means it’s much more crowded than it used to be, and there are a lot more people passing through. But still, throughout this whole shoot, I’ve left things all over the place and they’ve always come back to me. So I don’t want to think the worst, but maybe tweeting that picture when the show was announced made it a desirable or fun collector’s item for someone who was passing by? (By the way, if that someone is you, no hard feelings, but can you mail it back to my manager in Los Angeles, John Carrabino, no questions asked?) And for you at Scotland Yard, here’s the last documented sighting of my blue coat:
It’s just a coat, I know, but I held on to it for so long. I never wore it once after work ended on the original series, because how obnoxious would it be if you saw me wearing it in the grocery store, like, oh, oh, look at me! I wear a big puffy blue coat that says Gilmore Girls! I’m not even sure why I kept it. When I put it back on for the first time, there was a dried-out sugar packet in the pocket from 2008—I hadn’t touched it since then. We once had a terrible winter of moths eating all our sweaters, but somehow they spared this coat—even they must have known I was going to need it again. For Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life, it was with me every day. It kept me warm and dry, and billowed out behind me as I rode my bike across the lot in the wee hours of night. So I can’t help feeling a little sad it’s gone.
But it’s our last day, and the coat has served its purpose. Our work is over, and it’s May in Los Angeles. The sun is blazing, and I don’t need it to keep me warm anymore. Of course, for sentimental reasons I’d prefer to have it. But I think of the seventy incredible days of this shoot, all the people I’m so thankful for, all the love that went into making this show. I think of Emily in her Marie Kondo scenes, giving things away because she’s learning a new way of being thankful for the past, realizing it’s just as important to welcome and embrace the future. And while her scene is about choosing to give things away, rather than losing them or having them taken, in the spirit of what the book suggests I decide that, rather than mourn the loss of my jacket, I will be thankful for the time we had together. I thank it for hiding itself in the back of my closet with only a dried-up sugar packet to keep it company all those years. I thank it for standing by, for somehow letting me know I was going to need it again. I thank it for getting me through all seventy days of “Winter,” “Spring,” “Summer,” and “Fall.”
I thank it for all it did for me, and then I let it go.
After all, we waited a long time to get the chance to finish this show, and now, finally, Gilmore Girls is really and truly over.
I mean, it is over, right?
Yes. It is. It’s over.
But seriously, didn’t you sort of think that ending was really more of a cliffhanger?
Hmmmm…
for my mom and dad
My literary agent, Esther Newberg, was one of the first to take a chance on me as a writer. I’m so thankful to her for her encouragement and for navigating me skillfully away from anything resembling Monkey Doodles.
I’m honored to have been able to work with the team at Penguin Random House once again. Thank you for your support: Gina Centrello, Kara Welsh, Jennifer Hershey, Kim Hovey, Cindy Murray, Susan Corcoran, Kristin Fassler, Shona McCarthy, and Paolo Pepe. I was thrilled to get to work with Sara Weiss for the first time. A special thanks to early readers Elana Seplow-Jolley, Anne Speyer, and Julia Maguire. Your input was invaluable and came at a time when I needed a boost the most.
Amy Sherman-Palladino gave me the role of a lifetime. I’ll keep thanking her for that until the end of my days. I’m also thankful to the accidental writing school I got to attend thanks to years spent speaking her words, and those of Dan Palladino. I’m thankful to all the talented writers I’ve been lucky enough to work for as an actor in television and film, especially Jason Katims and the Gilmore Girls and Parenthood writing staffs.
Thanks to Helen Pai for going above and beyond.
Thanks to Elise LaPlante for her assistance during long days of filming, and for knowing how to set up the Friday night margarita bar.
I’m always grateful to my stellar team: Eddy Yablans, John Carrabino, Adam Kaller, and Cheryl Maisel.
Some friends whose early feedback always make it better: thank you, Kathy Ebel, Allison Castillo, Ellie Hannibal, and Mae Whitman.
My editor, Jennifer E. Smith, deserves all the thanks and praise I can possibly bestow. Our first book together was on a “rush” schedule, and this one was on something called a “crash” schedule. Not sure what’s left, unless there’s a “San Andreas starring The Rock” schedule. Through it all, she is generous with her intelligence, enthusiasm, and good taste, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I am only saddened to have to inform her that, as a result of her excellence, she will never get rid of me.
Last but first is family. Especially in this process, I rely on my sister Shade Grant as a mentor, friend, and fashion advisor in equal parts (though the jumpsuits are not her fault). Thanks to the Grahams and Grants and Krauses and McHales and Morelands, especially the one who isn’t here yet but whom I plan to soon spoil rotten. Thanks to Peter for taking such good care of me when writing moves in and eats up our regular lives.
Thanks to my mom and dad, where all the stories began.