The world when I started writing Throwback became almost unrecognizable by the time I finished it. This is a very 2019/2020 story—we all have one, don’t we? For me, Throwback is a time capsule of that period—when I became a mother as I wrote a book about moms and daughters.
I knew that I would have a big task ahead of me writing my first mother-daughter story. After all, my own relationship with my mother as a teen was fraught and complicated. Unearthing those feeling again—woof. I was glad I had the fun scaffolding of time travel to keep it light, to keep it moving forward without being bogged down by too many feelings.
But when the pandemic hit, when my pregnancy became complicated, and when people started marching on the streets for justice—my story suddenly felt so small. What was I actually writing about?
Putting yourself in your mother’s shoes, yes.
Learning from history, yes.
Revisiting nineties fashion, yes.
But, also…what about…
Interrogating the American dream? Examining your privileges earned by those who came before you? Taking the responsibilities of all the opportunities given to you by parental sacrifice and doing something bigger with it? Being okay with not being okay with that burden?
Empathy is one of those overused words lately—but it is at the heart of every story I tell. It’s the thread that holds all of the above together. What keeps me writing when the world feels so out of my control. Because we can always control the stories we tell.
