Meet Me at the Lake

Before I began, I remember looking back at the notebook I’d kept while writing Every Summer After to try to figure out how I’d managed to write a novel. It seemed like an impossible thing to do again. Every Summer After must have been a fluke. It must have been magic.

Every day when I sat down to write the first draft, I waged a battle against the chorus in my head telling me I had no idea what I was doing, that my writing was terrible, that there was no way my second book would be as good as the one that came before it. It hurt. I kept going, and eventually I had something. It wasn’t great, and the Meet Me at the Lake you’ve just read is a far better book. But I’m as proud of the final product as I am of that earliest, messy version. There may have been a little magic in writing Every Summer After, but drafting Meet Me at the Lake took grit.

As you’ve no doubt guessed, this book required tremendous editorial guidance and support. Amanda Bergeron, please know that I’m currently in tears trying to come up with words that express even a fraction of my gratitude for you. It’s unreal that we have yet to meet in person, but I’m starting to think that’s a good thing because I’ll probably hug you too tightly and for too long and then I’ll start sobbing, and it will be weird. You are brilliant.

I’m spoiled to have the wildly talented Deborah Sun de la Cruz in my corner. Deborah, I’m thrilled you live in Toronto and therefore I can hug you at semi-regular intervals, mostly without losing my cool. A massive thank-you for helping me bring Maggie into sharper focus and give deeper meaning to the book’s title.

Taylor Haggerty, if these acknowledgments were a playlist, your song would be Bette Midler’s “Wind Beneath My Wings.” You’re my hero. And because of you, I can now start sentences with the words, “My agent says . . .” Please see note to Amanda re: tear-filled hugs IRL. (For you, I may also bow down.) Jasmine Brown, I’m coming for you next. Thank you for all that you do.

An enormous, slightly more professional thank-you to the masterminds at Berkley—Sareer Khader, Bridget O’Toole, Chelsea Pascoe, Erin Galloway, Kristin Cipolla, Craig Burke, Ivan Held, Christine Ball, Claire Zion, Jeanne-Marie Hudson, Vi-An Nguyen, Anthony Ramondo, Christine Legon, Megha Jain, Joan Matthews, LeeAnn Pemberton, and Lindsey Tulloch. I’m so happy to call Berkley home.

I warned the good people of Penguin Canada that because I’m now writing full-time and no longer have an office of colleagues, they are all on the hook. Kristin Cochrane, Nicole Winstanley, Bonnie Maitland, Beth Cockeram, Daniel French—it’s such a gift to work with you all. Emma Ingram: I adore you and your dresses.

Whenever I worry about book stuff, I think about the extraordinary people I’m surrounded by. Holly Root, I once heard you describe literary agents as wearing cardigans and sending emails. I don’t remember the context, but sometimes when I’m anxious, I picture all you smarty-pantses at Root Literary in cute button-up sweaters, and I’m instantly soothed. Heather Baror-Shapiro, thank you for bringing my books to international audiences—what an absolute dream. Speaking of dreams, Carolina Beltran—it is a total pleasure to work together. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

To Elizabeth Lennie, whose paintings have now appeared on the cover of both Every Summer After and Meet Me at the Lake: Thank you for bringing the lake to life.

Thank you to Dr. Jonathan S. Abramowitz for speaking with me about postpartum OCD in men and non–birth parents. Your work and expertise is greatly appreciated.

One of the coolest things about being a published author is that you get to pretend that you know other, more fabulous authors, since sometimes they’re kind enough to mention you on social media, or blurb your book, or participate in an event with you, or respond to your DMs. Thank you to Ashley Audrain, Karma Brown, Iman Hariri-Kia, Emily Henry, Amy Lea, Annabel Monaghan, Hannah Orenstein, Jodi Picoult, Ashley Poston, Jill Santopolo, and Marissa Stapley for making me feel like part of the club. And also to Colleen Hoover, who mentioned Every Summer After on Instagram twice and now people think I can introduce them to her. (The jig is up: I’m not that connected.)

To the Bookstagrammers, BookTokers, reviewers, journalists, podcasters, librarians, and booksellers: Thank you for your passion, dedication, and creativity. I’m in awe of the work you do to build communities of readers. The book world is better for it. A special thank-you to the earliest adopters of Every Summer After—you shouted loud, and whoa, people listened. (Yes, Lianna, you were the loudest. No contest.)

Thank you to Sadiya Ansari, Meredith Marino, Courtney Shea, and Maggie Wrobel for reading this book in its earliest, shaggiest form, and for all the support and encouragement on this roller-coaster ride.

Lianne George, thank you for your mentorship, your friendship, and especially for the coffee dates. The kick line is for you.

Robert Nida, I will treasure my time at the cottage forever. You have my eternal gratitude.

Thank you to the Ursi and Palumbo families for the enthusiasm, excitement, and carbohydrates. Grace, thank you for your faith and the countless hours you look after the boys. (Can they sleep over tonight?)

To the Fortune family: Our song is obviously Tina Turner’s “The Best.” I think the New South Wales Rugby League will share it with us. Thank you for instilling in me the value of hard work, and for proving that home isn’t the walls in which we live, but the people within them. Mom, I’m so lucky.

Marco, I know you suggested I devote this entire acknowledgment to how great you are (you are so great!), but I dedicated the book to you and I’m making steak for dinner, so hopefully that does the trick. Thank you for not letting me talk myself out of quitting my job. Thank you for taking a year off from your own work so I could write this book. You were a rock star stay-at-home parent. Thank you for being as prepared to celebrate with me as you are to pick me up when I fall. We don’t have a song, but I think that’s because we have them all.

And to Max and Finn: I love you beyond measure. May you one day grow into men who’ll read their mother’s books but never touch her diaries.





Meet Me at the Lake

   Carley Fortune



   READERS GUIDE





Behind the Book


A note to the reader: Thank you so much for reading Meet Me at the Lake. I hope you were transported to Brookbanks Resort and to the Toronto I so love. Most of all, I hope Fern and Will’s story leaves you with a full heart. Parts of this book are deeply personal to me—they are the subject of this “Behind the Book” essay. I want you to know that I’m going to talk about some tough stuff. If you’re not in a place where you want to read about reproductive rights, anxiety, and disturbing intrusive thoughts, then I encourage you to save it for another time.

Carley Fortune's books