You might be familiar with Jennifer Weiner from her book In Her Shoes, or the movie of the same name with Cameron Diaz and Toni Collette. Or you might be familiar with her comments about how fiction written by women is perceived, and the old boys’ attitude of what constitutes Literature. You might have heard about her from the viral hashtag #weartheswimsuit, which encouraged women to just wear the damn swimsuit and get in the water and enjoy yourself, no matter what size or shape you are. Regardless, Weiner has a lot to say, both on and off the page, all of which is greatly necessary.

Her latest novel, Mrs. Everything, is a hell of a book, spanning decades. Fom the 1950s to the present day, it’s the story of two sisters and how their lives unfold as the world changes around them. It’s also about family secrets, the decisions we make, and the lives we birth. There are those who will brush it off as “women’s fiction” or “chick lit,” and though Weiner has written and talked about this extensively (see here and here, for example), I would caution those who do this to really read the book and re-evaluate their assumptions.

Weiner was gracious enough to do an email interview during the whirlwind of her book tour for Mrs. Everything and the craziness of BookExpo and BookCon.

I really loved Mrs. Everything. In the beginning, I thought it would be about the diagnosis, living with cancer, and so forth, but I loved how it turned out to be about so much more. Having recently lost my grandmother to breast cancer, the end was especially poignant. What was your inspiration for this book?

The book was inspired by my mother, Frances Frumin Weiner. Like Jo Kaufman, my mom was born in Detroit, attended the University of Michigan, married a man, moved to the suburbs of Connecticut, got divorced, and ended up falling in love with a woman, much to the shock of her kids, including a then-twentysomething me. In Good In Bed, there’s a gay mom character who’s just there for comic relief. I always wanted to go back to that character, and write about what her life must have been like, when women like her did not have options, where there was really only one acceptable way to be in the world, especially if you wanted kids. I wanted to write about a character who didn’t have choices, and to examine the progress we’ve made, and if it’s enough, and if any of us women are truly free.

You’ve talked a lot about the discrepancies between men’s and women’s writing, and how they’re viewed/reviewed/honored. Do you think this is changing at all?

I do see some progress. These days, we have the VIDA count, which means that if an editor chooses to review 17 books by men and one book by women, he’s at least going to hear about it. I also think the #MeToo movement has led to greater awareness about the way we treat women’s stories, on and off the page, and why we still credit men with great artistry and great truthfulness, while dismissing what women write and what they have to say. The New York Times is finally reviewing romance, in addition to sci-fi and mysteries and thrillers. There’s a woman running the Book Review, and I’ve seen far fewer instances of white men receiving the ‘hat trick’ of a daily review, a Sunday review, and a profile.

Which is not to say that things are perfect. I’ve lived long enough so that my books are no longer called “chick lit,” and now they’re labeled “women’s fiction.” I long for the day when they’ll just be ‘fiction,’ the same as books by men.

In terms of writing while mothering, it’s a hard question to answer, because every working, writing mother I know has to answer it, and I still don’t see men being asked about it enough. The truth is that I get it done the same way the men do—I pay other women to take care of my house and, in some cases, my kids, while I’m writing. I take every shortcut I can. I order groceries online when I don’t have time to shop, I order take-in when I don’t have time to cook. I pay someone to clean my house and do the family’s laundry, I have an assistant who helps me manage household and scheduling stuff. I have a supportive spouse who gives me the time I need when I’m on deadline. But even with all of that, I still find that as the woman, I do more of what’s called the emotional labor. Yes, maybe my husband will take a kid to the orthodontist… but I’m the one who found the orthodontist, remembered they needed the appointment, and made it work with everyone else’s schedules. Maybe my sitter will drop the kid off at a birthday party… but I’m the one who put the party on the calendar, bought and wrapped the gift, and set up the three previous playdates the girls had.

I am lucky to get paid well for my work, and I use my money to buy time. For example, when my older daughter was born I was determined to do everything myself… and I ended up exhausted and worn out. With my second daughter, I paid for a doula to stay from 10 pm to 6 am every day for the first three months. She’d bring me the baby when she needed to nurse, I’d feed her (the baby, not the doula) and go back to sleep so I could wake up in the morning rested and ready to work. It was, hands-down, the best money I ever spent.

All of the women who work for me get paid well…. but I still feel guilty that my books are made possible by their labor. I don’t know what the answer is, but I feel like other countries are way ahead of us in terms of government-supported childcare and with regard to men stepping up as equal partners. 

How do you think the creative community can support women, and mothers, especially?

I think men need to step up, and I think that women need to get tiger-ish about protecting our time and our creative space. For example, being a stay-at-home writer does not mean that you’re the mom who’s available to babysit for everyone else’s kids on snow days, or that you’re free to drop everything and bake three dozen cookies for the school bake sale. Sometimes I think the problem is that writing doesn’t look like work: you’re sitting at a computer, or, worse, you’re reading stuff for research. You’re not out digging a ditch or running a meeting… hence, you’re home and available.

I tell myself and other moms all the time that “no” is a complete sentence, and that you have every right to reclaim your time, to close the office door and say “mom is working right now.” It doesn’t make you a bad mother to ask for help or to pay for it. Plus, we should all be paying it forward—if you know a writer who could use a few hours to work, offer to take her kids for the afternoon, if you’re the lucky one with time to spare. 

What are you struggling with, as a parent and as a writer, right now?

I am struggling with my daughters becoming independent and needing me less than they used to. When they were little and they needed me all the time, I would dream of the days when I’d be able to just spend an afternoon in bed with a book or when I could take a 90-minute yoga class and not feel guilty about it. Now I have my life back and lots of free time, and I just want them to need me again.

What books inspire you, and what are you reading right now?

I love anything by Anne Tyler, Susan Isaacs, Peter Straub, Stephen King, Nicholas Christopher, KJ Charles, Kate Atkinson, and more authors than I can think of right now. Right now I am reading Linda Holmes’ debut Evvie Drake Starts Over, and recommending Red Clocks by Leni Zumas, a dystopian take on a world where abortion is illegal.

What advice would you give to a writer trying to juggle parenthood and writing?

Be fierce about protecting your time. Try to let go of the guilt. All kids (well, almost all kids) grow up fine and happy, even if Mom had to close the office door and get some work done. Outsource as much as you can, offer to trade off childcare with a friend if you’re really in a pinch. Don’t give yourself excuses: Toni Morrison wrote The Bluest Eye as a single mother with a full-time job, working on the subway during her commute. If she can do it, you can, too.

What’s next on the horizon for you?  After Mrs. Everything, I’m looking forward to writing something a little more light—a mystery set on Cape Cod, and in the world of social-media fashion influencers.

Photo credit: Andrea Cipriani Mecchi