Calliope meowed quite loudly.
“Yes, yes,” Linus told her. “You too. You and me and not much else, was there? But we found a home even though we weren’t looking for one, at least not consciously.” He looked back up at Arthur. “Because of you, Arthur. Because of you, the people here can lay their heads down at night and not always have to worry about what tomorrow might bring. Because of you, Sal and Phee and Chauncey and Talia and David and Lucy and Theodore get to just be, which is something so many of us take for granted. Because of you, the world is just a little bit brighter. Because of you, I have hope, I have faith, I have the belief that no matter the odds, we will be happy, we will be free, we will know that because of you, things are changing. And I am so bloody honored to be at your side.” Tears streamed down his face as he smiled. “Well, old boy, you’ve gone and done it now. Arthur, I love our children more than I can say. I love our home. I love the life you’ve let me help build. And I love you with every fiber of my being. You are in my every breath, in every beat of my heart, and for the rest of my days, I will be by your side, no matter what.”
“David,” Arthur said without looking away from Linus, “I have the desire to kiss my future husband within an inch of his life. Do I have permission?”
David grinned as he rested his chin on his hands, blinking slowly at them. “Yeah,” he said dreamily. “By the power invested in me, and all that jazz. Dad, kiss Papa so hard!”
Zoe and Helen gasped as Jason and Byron howled their joy into the sky.
Arthur and Linus looked at each other, had a three-second silent conversation, nodded, and kissed. Then, without prompting, both turned as one and hurried around the podium. David squawked as they lifted him up, crushing him between the two of them. “What is happening?” David shrieked as Linus kissed the top of his head over and over. “I didn’t know weddings meant attacking yetis!”
“One of us!” Chauncey cried. “One of us!”
The other children picked up the chant, and as the roar of the crowd washed over them, Arthur and Linus Baker-Parnassus held on to their son tightly. It wasn’t long before the others tackled them with no small amount of tears, and as the sun drifted across the sky above a cerulean sea, a phoenix thought in awe, Hope is the thing with feathers, yes, and hope is the thing with fire.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
In 2022, I did an event where I got asked a question: “What do you think your legacy will be?” Me being me, I gave a pithy response. “What do I care? I’ll be dead.”
I still mostly think this way. The idea of a legacy makes me weirdly uncomfortable. I want to focus on the here and now, the present, and not worry about how I will be viewed in a hundred years, if I even am at all.
But in writing this sequel, I realized that’s not quite true. I do want to be remembered as something, and it’s very specific: not the Antichrist, but the Anti–J.K. Rowling. I want to be her antithesis, her opposite. I want my stories to fly in the face of everything she believes in. At the end of the day, she has no idea who I am, and that’s okay. I’ll still be here, chugging away, making sure queer stories are told. And I won’t be doing it alone. There are so many queer authors writing stories that matter, important stories that show all the different facets of our lives.
To make it unequivocal: J.K. Rowling’s beliefs on trans people are abhorrent and have no place in a modern society. People like her—people who believe trans people are somehow lesser—deserve to be shunned until they disappear into the ether. As Arthur says in the novel, “Hate is loud.” He’s right. People tend to love quietly and hate loudly. But here’s the thing: I don’t do anything quietly. I’m a loud motherfucker, and I will continue to be, especially when my community is under attack.
To my trans readers: this book is dedicated to you. Without you, there would be no us. You are vital, beautiful, and you deserve everything good in this world. There are so many more of us than there are of them. Yes, they’re loud and it can feel like their hate is all we see and hear. And yet, I constantly think about the twelve-year-old boy I met at a small school in West Virginia. After speaking to a group of kids, this boy came up to me and said, “I know all about the gay stuff.”
Bewildered, I replied, “What do mean?”
He said, “Last year, I had a girlfriend. He came out as trans, and now he’s my boyfriend.”
If it is that easy for a child, why is it so hard for adults? I don’t have an answer to that, aside from this: the younger generations are smart, worldly, and they pay attention. They know what’s going on, and they are furious. Between their trans classmates being attacked to books being banned from their libraries, the children know what is being done to them. And when they get old enough, they are going to make this world into what it should have been from the beginning: a place where everyone gets to be free without fear of repercussions because of who they are.
This book would not exist without the help of many people.
First, to Christie, Jenna, Rory, and Justin: thank you for taking the time to speak to me again about the intricacies of social work. As I told you all when I first spoke to you in 2018 and then again in 2022, I can’t imagine the level of empathy required to do what you do. Your jobs are so, so important, even if you aren’t paid anywhere near enough to do what you do. Thank you for giving a damn about kids, and doing your best to make sure no child is forgotten.
To Dr. Chaudry, I appreciate your insight into the psychology of trauma, and how it can compound. I’m sorry I took up three hours of your time in what was supposed to be a thirty-minute phone call. I apparently had a bunch of questions, and you took the time to answer them all with grace and patience, even when I was getting way off course. Thank you for doing what you do, even when it can feel like you’re chipping away at a mountain with a pickaxe.
Before writing The House in the Cerulean Sea and again before writing Somewhere Beyond the Sea, I also spoke to people who have fostered and/or adopted and people who have been fostered and/or adopted themselves. Thanks go in particular to the Hernandez family, who is, in a way, like a real-life Baker-Parnassus family. They even have a Theodore (a rat terrier named Jester) who likes to hide socks under the couch. Your family—made up of people not related by blood, but by choice—is the reason I believe in the goodness in humanity. Thank you for opening your home to those who need a place to rest their heads.
The following people worked on the novel in various forms. They made the book better than it has any right to be.
Ali Fisher, my editor, continually challenges me with my stories. She makes me think in ways that I don’t normally when in the middle of writing a book. Without her guidance, all of my books would be a mess. They are legible because of her. Thanks, Ali.
To Deidre Knight, my agent, and everyone at the Knight Agency, thanks for always championing me, and for always having my back. It’s wild to think how far we’ve come in the last six years, and I’m so grateful to have you in my corner. Any success I might have is because of your tireless efforts on my behalf, and I couldn’t ask for better representation.
My beta readers—Lynn, Mia, and Amy—get to see my books in their roughest forms, and yet, they still sometimes tell me I did a good job. Which, to be fair, is a hard thing to do when they get books that are six million pages long and instructions from me that basically boil down to PLEASE HELP MAKE IT SHORTER I DON’T KNOW WHY I LOVE ALL WORDS!!! They tell me when something works, and when something doesn’t. Anything good in this book is because of them. Something you didn’t like? Blame me. And then remember: it’s just a book.
To Dianna Vega, the assistant editor: your job is so involved, I don’t know how you do it. Thank you for always keeping me informed, and for your hard work. I think everything would fall apart if you weren’t there. Thanks.
Saraceia Fennell is my publicist, the one who sends me out into the world. Publicity is one of the hardest jobs in publishing, and she is one of the—if not the—best. I don’t think I’ve met a harder-working person than her, and the fact that she puts up with my particular brand of crazy is a testament to her patience. I think you’re the bee’s knees.
Becky Yeager handles all the marketing and promotion. The incredible artwork we had commissioned? The blogs, the posts, the playlists? That’s all because of Becky. She has so many wonderful ideas for how to promote my work, and I am in constant awe of all the things she comes up with. Thanks, Becky.
If you’ve read my books over the last few years, chances are you’ve gazed adoringly at the covers. The House in the Cerulean Sea. Under the Whispering Door. In the Lives of Puppets. Green Creek. And now, Somewhere Beyond the Sea. These covers are by Chris Sickles with Red Nose Studio. I don’t know how he does it. I don’t know how he can take the images I have in my head and translate them into something real, something tangible. It’s like we have the same brain but with different artistic expressions. I write words, Chris makes magic. I’ve said it before but it bears repeating: I hope I get to work with Chris for the rest of my career. Thank you, Chris.
In addition to Chris, Katie Klimowicz worked on the cover. She is the jacket designer, and boy howdy, does she always do excellent work. Hell, she creates fonts that are specific to a work. Who does that?!?! Katie Klimowicz does that. I think she’s very, very rad. Thanks, Katie.
Production was handled by production editor Megan Kiddoo, production manager Steven Bucsok, and designer Heather Saunders. They work on so many little odds and ends and keep the process of getting a novel out into the world as smooth as possible. I think of them like a clock, always keeping time. Thanks to the three of you.
William Hinton is the editorial director, and Devi Pillai is the publisher. I wouldn’t be here without them, so thank you for believing in my books, in the power of queer stories. I hope to be a Tor author for many, many years to come.
To my queer community: I write these books for anyone who wants to read them, but in my head and heart, I’m always thinking of you first and foremost. In case no one has told you this today: I’m proud of you. I know it’s hard being human. I know that it seems like things are getting more difficult. But please don’t forget that while hate may be loud, we are louder. And no one can take that away from us.
The Anti–J.K. Rowling
TJ Klune
March 7, 2024
ALSO BY TJ KLUNE FROM TOR PUBLISHING GROUP
BOOKS FOR ADULTS
The Green Creek Series
