PROFILE

An Interview with Cathi Hanauer
by Jackie Papandrew

Cathi Hanauer is the author of two novels, Sweet Ruin (2006) and My Sister’s Bones (1996), and the editor of a best-selling essay collection The Bitch in the House: 26 Women Tell the Truth about Sex, Solitude, Work, Motherhood and Marriage (2002) – a book she says was born out of anger. She has written for publications such as Elle, O, Self, Glamour, Mademoiselle, Parenting, and Child. She also wrote the monthly advice column “Relating” for Seventeen for seven years. She has taught writing at The New School in New York and at the University of Arizona. She lives in Massachusetts with her husband, writer and The New York Times “Modern Love” editor Daniel Jones, and their daughter and son.

MWLM: How has motherhood influenced your writing? Have you been able to pass along your love of writing and reading to your children?

CH: My daughter loves to read; my son loves to be read to. I read to them both when they were younger, and now I help her find books she loves and mostly read to him – everything, all the things I’d never read but wish I had, from King Arthur to Greek myths to Moby Dick (the kids' version, don't worry). Right now we're reading The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, and both loving it. Before that I read The Old Man and the Sea, by Hemingway. My son is only eight, but he's a very sophisticated listener, which, of course, is perfect for me. Reading to my kids is one of my favorite things about being a mother. I love nothing more than curling up on their beds with them with a book, or reading to them in the bathtub.
As for writing, they both like to write, though neither is particularly obsessive about it. They go in spurts. They have both started novels at various times, and my daughter did two issues of a newsletter for kids about global warming last summer that we distributed all over town. My son tends toward fantastical fiction – other worlds, whole colonies of weirdly-named creatures "smaller than an air molecule." She tends toward realistic fiction, not unlike the sort I write. She has a way with words, and he has an imagination. But neither is particularly a bookworm – which doesn't surprise me, since neither Dan, my husband, nor I was either. I think they both realize how great a good book can be, though, and also the value of writing, of creating something and getting it down. I think in the future they'll both embrace writing. As a writer married to a writer, though, I certainly hope they have a back-up plan too. I tell my son, you can be a doctor AND a writer. Ha!  But it's true, I confess.
As for how motherhood has influenced my writing, I write from my own experience – both non-fiction and fiction (emotional experience, as opposed to real facts) – and my experience for the past 12 years has been as a mother, so obviously that figures heavily in. I've written about breast-feeding, about being a new mother, about being a not-so-new mother, about being an aging mother, about being an adulterous mother (that part was fiction – promise!). Alison Pearson said having children changes your heart and it's true. It makes you see the world in a whole different way. It makes you both stronger and more vulnerable. It makes you less self-absorbed (at least at the beginning). It makes you feel the deepest love there is.
What could be more valuable to someone's writing? It also allows you a shared experience with most of the world; almost any two mothers anywhere, even if they don't speak the same language, even if their cultures are enemies, can relate or bond over mothering a kid. That is not to say I think everyone should be a mother, because I don't; there are lots of people who aren't cut out for it, and I give them credit for knowing this. And the world is a better place because of many, many women who have chosen to do something else besides having kids. Kids are a full-time job, and anyone who's not prepared to take that on is better off not doing it.
Sometimes I think I'm not qualified myself, frankly. I'm too impatient and too wrapped up in my work. But I always wanted children and having them was the best thing I ever did, for my writing as well as everything else.

MWLM: Your two novels, Sweet Ruin and My Sister’s Bones, were written 10 years apart. How did you change and grow as a writer during that time? Would you go back and change anything in those books now, if you could?

CH: Frankly, I'm glad I can't. At some point, you have to put a book to bed, and thank God for that. But even if I could, I don't think I would, which is not the same as saying I think they're perfect. Sometimes, depending on my mood, I'll read something I've published and cringe. Especially with Bones, I look at passages I could have tightened, things I could have said better. But I think there's a lightness and youthfulness about that book, and also a humor, that could only come of it having been a book I wrote at a young age. I wouldn't trade that for having it be the possibly more sophisticated or polished book I'd write now if I wrote it today.
How did I grow as a writer? Well, I grew a lot as a person, which is part of how you grow as a writer. I got married. I had two children. I edited an anthology about women and work and motherhood. I did a ton of magazine work and worked with some amazing writers and editors. I read a ton, in the Mademoiselle and Glamour jobs as books columnist – literally hundreds of books. I learned a lot about the world. Both the world and my profession. So I'm not sure I can put my finger on or articulate exactly how I changed as a writer, but I think my writing now has a sophistication, both craft-wise and just in terms of wisdom, that it didn't have then. I hope so, anyway. And I hope I can continue to grow as a writer as I age.

MWLM: Are you working on another novel now? If so, tell us about it.

CH: I have a novel idea I’m cautiously excited about; I've been doing some research, trying to see if it "takes." I also have a nonfiction idea, but that would probably involve more research than I'm able to do at this point in my life – travel, etc. It's all too new to talk about at the moment, but I'll just say that, like all my work, it deals with male-female conflict, love, relationships. And it's from the point of view of a teenage boy, at least so far. We'll see what happens.

MWLM: Do you keep a journal? Do you have a writing schedule, and are you successful at sticking to it? What advice would you give other moms who aspire to write but have trouble finding the time amid the chaos of raising children?

CH: I don't keep a journal, though I did for many years, but it was always casual, never a regular thing. I don't particularly have a writing schedule (alas), though I do most of my real work in the morning, when the kids are at school and the house is quiet. I'm pretty adamant about never making plans or answering the phone or letting anything interrupt those hours, if I can. When I’m into a book, I spend at least two to three hours a day truly working on it. Then I usually look it over again before bed. At those times, when I'm into a book, I find it very hard to skip a day, and I try not to – even on weekends. I try to find a couple of hours to go somewhere and work, so I don't lose the thread. But between books, or when I'm doing magazine work, my schedule fluctuates.
There is so much domestic stuff that falls by the wayside when I'm hard at work on a project, or when I'm on deadline; when I hand something in, I have to back off for a bit and catch up. Otherwise, we'd live in squalor all the time; we wouldn't have groceries. I'd have no idea what's going on in my kids' lives or at their school (a co-op with a lot of parent involvement). We'd never see anyone socially (not that we do anyway – that seems to be the last thing on our calendar). And sometimes a kid is home sick, or the dog needs to go to the vet, or, like this year, my son is having some medical problems, and I need to take the time to research them.
I've learned not to kill myself with guilt over this, but instead to be glad I'm privileged enough to have a flexible schedule, to be able to do both, the mothering and the work. For many years, our financial situation was such that pretty much every second of my life when I wasn't actively taking care of the kids, I had to be working. That was really hard, it was exhausting, but I did get a book out of it (yes, it was The Bitch in the House). Now, I have a little more breathing room, because we're settled, and the kids are in public school, and Dan (my husband) has a good job, and we're both making more money. So the work is more able to find its way into my schedule when it needs to. I can take on a magazine assignment when I need the money or refuse one if I’m working on a book, rather than feeling I can't afford to ever turn down anything.
And last night, for example, I was up from 3 a.m. to 5 a.m. writing; my son was up and got me up, and then I was thinking about the new book and got so excited that I had to get up and write stuff down. That's unusual, but when I'm in the throes of a book, I get excited enough to not care if I lose sleep. That's when writing is the best, when you can feel passionate enough about it to not care how you look or feel in real life. You just care about getting it down and making it great. Anyway, I do the best I can with sticking to a schedule, and Dan does too, but we have kids, and they're as important as the work. It's always a balancing act. At the moment, as I think I may have said already, Dan is making more money than I am – he edits a weekly column in The New York Times – and his paychecks are important, so his work takes priority over mine. When I'm on book tour, as this past summer, or doing a speaking engagement or finishing a novel or magazine piece that's under contract, it's the reverse.

MWLM: Your best-selling collection of essays, The Bitch in the House, explored the lives of 26 different women. What did you learn from that experience and what “women’s wisdom” would you like to pass on to your own daughter?

CH: I learned a ton. I spoke to women who were going through exactly what I was, so I realized I wasn't alone. And I spoke to women who had been through it and come out the other end, which helped me see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I spoke to women who had made different choices than I had and found that the grass wasn't greener, just a different shade of green. What I love about being a writer is that I can hand the book to my daughter, when she's ready – and to my son, for that matter – and say, "read it." It's all down in the book. I don't have to say anything – though, of course, I will. I never stop giving advice to my kids. I'm sure they'd love me to just shut up. There again, how great to have it all down in a book, so I can mail it to them when they can't bear to look at me. 
Writing helps me make sense of life, and when I do, I like to share what I've learned. I hope my kids can benefit from that someday.

MWLM: You’ve described yourself as compulsive, perfectionist and work-obsessed. How do you square that with being a “good” mother – in other words, how do you hold it all together without going nuts?

CH: Well, I'm not sure how good a mother I am, and I definitely DO go nuts sometimes.  And I don't think I’m particularly together, though I try. I do my best, but as I said above, I think in some ways I'm not particularly cut out for motherhood. I'm impatient; I'm self-absorbed; I'm fairly manic. I operate on high-speed and tend to be late (and always rushing) even so. On the other hand, in the Good Mother column, I think – I hope – I'm loving and affectionate and funny with my kids; I love to teach them things, to take them places, to learn with them and laugh at and with them.  I find them hilarious and fascinating when they're not making me crazy. So in the end, I hope it all evens out. Also, I married a guy who's patient and calm, so hopefully he fills in where I fail and vice-versa. In our case, at least, it's a very good thing there are two parents around. 

MWLM: You’ve written essays and articles for a variety of well-known publications such as Seventeen, Elle, Glamour, Parenting, and O. Do you find the transition between writing non-fiction and fiction an easy one? Do you prefer to write one more than the other?

CH: I love them both, and honestly, I don't find the transition hard. When I think of a topic I want to write about, I try to decide what would be the best way to do it – fiction, non-fiction essay, research and reporting? I've done it all, and they all have their place, and their benefits and advantages. With this new book I'm trying to start, I toyed with doing it as non-fiction, because it's based on something I read that really happened, and I know it could be an amazing non-fiction book if someone had the time and wherewithal to really do it right. But in the end, it was the emotional truth I was interested in more than the facts, and frankly, non-fiction requires more of the sort of research I don't have time for right now – traveling, meeting people and spending time with them. I will still need to do research if I do it as a novel, but not in the same way as really exploring these people's lives and getting the facts right. Reporting has always been my least favorite part of writing, which is why I'm more suited to fiction. I'm happy at home alone in my pajamas in front of my computer thinking deeply and obsessing – not out in the world asking personal questions of people who may not want to answer them.

MWLM: What inspires your fiction? Do you ever suffer writer’s block and if so, how do you overcome it?

CH: I think when something moves me or makes me feel passionate – or conflicted – I want to write about it. For me, so much of writing is obsessing, obsession; you have to live with a topic, an idea, every day or hour for a year or two to really write about it well. I do, anyway. So it has to be something I wouldn't mind thinking about, either, something I'm trying to figure out in my own life or in the world, or something that makes me feel excited. Or – ideally -- both.
Writer's block – it's hard to know exactly what that is. It's very hard for me to start a project; that's the hardest part, and sometimes you can start over 20 times or you put it off for days or weeks (OK, months). Maybe you can consider the first 19 times you tried writer's block or the days when you sit there all day and nothing comes out. But I think it's all part of the process. With a novel, there are definitely parts where you don't know what comes next or you do but you're not sure best how to tell it; maybe that's writer's block or maybe it's just trying to figure out what's next. Sometimes, that can take the form of not working for a few days, but just taking notes or thinking about something – or doing something else altogether. Sometimes, living your life is the best way to write, because you're refueling, you're experiencing things and learning things and thinking about things, and when you sit down, after weeks or months or years, it all comes out.
My best friend, the novelist Kate Christensen, will not "work" for a year, and then she'll sit down and crank out a book in six months, and it's brilliant. But the whole time she's not working, she's reading, she's e-mailing, she's traveling, she's helping her family go through a death, she's visiting me and my kids, taking in the world. It's all material for the work. I've learned a lot from her. I don't believe you need to sit down every single day of your life for five or eight hours straight. Then again, I also don't believe we all have to be Philip Roth or John Updike and write 55 books or however many they've written by now. I'd be happy with five or six good books in my life. I think. Maybe I won't say that if I ever get to that point, though. Maybe I'll want more. Frankly, I can't even believe I have three now. In some ways, I've already reached my goal as a writer, but of course, now that I have, I've just adjusted it higher. 

MWLM: You are married to a writer. What’s life like in a household with two writers? Do you critique each other’s work? Do you ever feel competitive with one another?

CH: Life in a household with two writers: Where to start? I edited The Bitch in the House and Dan, The Bastard on the Couch, and we keep saying the kids will come out any minute now with The Brats in the Bathtub.  And I know what it would talk about: how Mom and Dad never shut up about their work, how they were always reading out loud to each other instead of listening to us, how when we said something funny, one or the other of them (usually Mom) would run to write it down so she could use it somewhere.
We have more computers than I dare to admit in this house. And we are occasionally competitive, but much less than you'd think; mostly, we're competitive about time, not our work, although lately that's not an issue because Dan has a weekly deadline – and paycheck! – and a book just coming out, so his work takes precedence right now for the most part, and I'm dealing with the rest of our lives.  But yes, we definitely do work together; we are good editorial partners and always have been, maybe because we're very different sorts of writers (though our writing has grown more alike over the years as we've influenced each other), maybe because we have different work styles, or maybe just because all the money goes into the same college fund, so why compete? Better to help each other.
We both profit from it, both artistically and financially. Dan is a great editor for me. He's great at cutting the excess and helping me see the meat of something. He's great at taking out what we call the "Freeze – what?!" aspect of my writing – the tendency to be histrionic, overdramatic. And I think I do similar things for him. We launched the Modern Love column (in the Sunday Styles section of The New York Times) together a few years ago, and I was very involved at the beginning. Now it's completely his gig, as it has been since very early on, but I can still read pieces and give him input, and occasionally, I help him find something or help with an edit.
We're tapped into the market in different ways: he knows the news, about which I’m usually horribly oblivious, but I know the zeitgeist, sometimes – I know what's on women's minds. So we share. Between us, we form an enlightened person, maybe. Although we both have a crappy vocabulary, at least we can joke about it. And with fiction and essays, we always help each other. We don't take that for granted, either. We both realize the value of living with another writer. Free editing! What more could a writer ask?

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