by Jenn Bennett
“Come on,” he coaxed, dangling the car keys in front of my face as he wound one arm around my back to pull me closer. “You won’t ever learn to drive if you stop trying. You know you want to.”
I totally did. I stood on my tiptoes, accepted the kiss he dropped on my lips, and snatched the keys out of his fingers. Feeling alive might just be a rush of adrenaline, but Jack had been right that first night on the Owl bus. It was definitely worth the risk.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THIS IS NOT MY FIRST PUBLISHED BOOK, BUT IT MIGHT be my favorite. And it wouldn’t exist if my extraordinary agent, Laura Bradford, had not said, “Yo! You should consider writing YA.” (Or something slightly more professional.) It was excellent advice. Writing this book was like slipping into a comfortable coat. It just felt . . . right.
It felt even better after it landed in my editor’s capable hands. Anna Roberto, your passion for teen fiction is infectious, and I feel unbelievably lucky to work with someone so thoughtful, smart, and talented. Thank you for making Bex and Jack even more Bex and Jack than they were before. Many heartfelt thanks to everyone else who works behind the scenes at Feiwel and Friends and Macmillan—including this book’s talented designer, Anna Booth!—and a special thanks to the legendary Liz Szabla, for believing in this book. And a million thanks to the entire Simon & Schuster UK team for bringing Bex and Jack across the pond, including: Rachel Mann, Becky Peacock, Liz Binks, Paul Coomey and Jenny Richards. Every author dreams of working with a creative team like this.
Much love to everyone else who read the manuscript in its infancy, including Veronica Buck, Janice Ming, Ann Aguirre, and especially Karina Cooper, who, upon finishing, called me up to shout enthusiastic praise and made me feel like I’d accomplished something truly amazing. Thanks also to Taryn Fagerness, Elv Moody, and Barbara König. And to all my readers who cheered when I told them I was traveling to YA Land, I wish I could bear-hug each and every one of you.
My biggest I’m-not-worthy acknowledgment goes out to my husband. You not only help brainstorm me out of treacherous plot holes, you’re also my biggest fan. Thanks for believing in me all these years, again and again and again.
A LETTER FROM
THE AUTHOR
DEAR READER,
THE BOOK YOU HAVE JUST READ IS A LOVE LETTER to artists. Not only the famous ones, enshrined in museums, but also the everyday people who are brave enough to express themselves. My teen protagonists are both artists, though wildly different ones: Bex is fascinated by anatomy and wants to be a medical illustrator, while Jack is a street artist, spray-painting giant gold words across San Francisco landmarks. She’s a smart loner being raised by a strong, single mother, and he’s a charming, pompadour-ed boy from a different side of town. Though they’re opposites – in both their art and lives – a mutual respect for each other’s work brings them together.
I come from a family of artists. My Scandinavian grandmother was a painter, and my mother, a stained-glass artist. Expression was always encouraged and as a teen, I bounced around from (terrible) acting to (horrific) poetry to teaching myself how to play both the drums and piano (my entire repertoire included butchering a variety of Christmas carols, punk-rock classics, and “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” – which, to this day, my family can’t hear without cringing).
All of that early experimentation led me to pursue two degrees in Fine Art. For me, being an artist wasn’t about some sort of gift-from-the-gods talent as much as a drive to express yourself. No way was wrong, no method was off-limits. Be true to yourself. Take the risk. If you fail, get back up and try it again.
I still believe this.
At the beginning of NIGHT OWLS, Bex is struggling with unresolved family issues that have changed her artwork. Instead of using art to express herself, she thinks of it as a skill she must master if she wants a chance to escape her narrowing world. When she meets Jack – whose own family secrets are driving him in the opposite direction, bigger and bolder – he shoves her out of her self-imposed bubble. And when she shoves back, both of their worlds (and hearts!) explode in the best way possible.
I am Bex. I’m also Jack. And I’m betting you are a little, too. Because in a way, we’re all artists, trying to communicate with each other. Trying to express ourselves while making sense of our lives and taking risks with our hearts. And I hope you enjoyed reading about two people who’ve hazarded to crack open their chests and bare themselves, stand or fall. Moreover, I hope they spoke to the artist inside you. Thanks for taking that risk with me.
Jenn Bennett
