Book Buzz: Enormous Wings by Laurie Frankel
“I think that we certainly talk about pregnancy and motherhood and reproductive freedoms. These are conversations that we are having, but within pretty narrow parameters. And what I liked about this idea was the opportunity to talk about some of those issues from a different lens than usual — not least because so many people’s minds are already made up about so many of these ideas, and that means that we can’t really have a conversation. But if we change the lens, if we change the approach, if we change the givens and the parameters that we go in with, then we get to have a conversation.
There’s the whole point of novels.”
― Laurie Frankel, Texas Standard
What booksellers are saying about Enormous Wings
- Never have I read a book with such a situation that is seared in my mind. Laurie Frankel is a genius to have invented a storyline that combines tears of laughter with tears for our current agony.
― Nancy, Bookmiser, Inc., Marietta, Georgia | BUY
- I cannot think of a better title for this deep, extraordinary novel – it is big and bold, thoughtful and wise. It is a powerful story of found family, female agency, growing old and staying young.
― Anderson, Page & Palette, Fairhope, Alabama| BUY
- The magic of Laurie Frankel is that she has a way of presenting all sides of hot button issues with a fairness that brings understanding, if not agreement. She can take an absurd premise–the pregnancy of 77 year old Pepper Mills–and turn it into a thoughtful story
― Amy Dance, The Snail on the Wall, Huntsville, Alabama | BUY
- Pepper Mills is a compelling and vibrant character and I was cheering for her from the start. Ingeniously, this novel manages to be lighthearted and warm while tackling topics which are serious and relevant right now.
― Shan O’Fee-Byrom, Books on Third, Naples, Florida | BUY
About Laurie Frankel
Laurie Frankel is the New York Times bestselling, award-winning author of the novels Family Family, One Two Three, Goodbye for Now, The Atlas of Love, and the Reese’s Book Club Pick This Is How It Always Is. Frankel lives in Seattle with her husband, daughter, and border collie. She makes good soup.
Book Buzz: Enormous Wings by Laurie Frankel Read More »
“One of the things that really interested me was the parents investigating their son’s death. He goes off the balcony of this luxury building into the Thames. It’s unclear, is this a suicide? Is it murder? Is it something more exotic? The parents trust Scotland Yard to get to the bottom of it, but then there’s this gradual awareness that the police aren’t actually going to come and help. So they have to try and work it out themselves. That was really interesting to me as a dynamic. They’re incredibly invested, but they also get pulled into this underworld in London inside the city they hadn’t known.” 
“I thought about setting the historical timeline before the Meiji Restoration, when the samurai still would have had social standing and power. But ultimately, I liked the idea of Sen’s family desperately clinging to the past glory of the samurai, because desperate characters do irrational things. I also liked that because Sen’s father essentially wants to start a whole new samurai rebellion from scratch. The stakes feel much more like a personal vendetta than a political movement. I think this decision fit better with the story I was trying to tell — I’m more interested in talking about the mistakes of one family who happened to be samurai rather than commenting on the samurai at large.” 
“When I sat down to write this novel, it ended up going in a completely different direction than what I had intended. I’d originally wanted to write an unrequited love story. As I was writing the first few scenes, I was like, “Oh, these people actually both love each other, so that’s not working. Also, I really feel the need to explore how this character has come to love in this way, and to deny herself love in this way.
Julia Langbein says that the inspiration for her new novel, Dear Monica Lewinsky, came to her during a visit to the house where she grew up: “I had to go clear out my old childhood bedroom, and I found a diary from 1998 in which I had been disparaging of Monica Lewinsky in a way that was just very casual and normal for people at that time…It was this moment of compunction — we all recognize we had it wrong — but the writer in me was like, You’re picking up on some idea of Monica Lewinsky as a kind of saint whose public life completely fits with the stories of the early martyrs.” 
I know a lot of fairy tales.
Like I cut my teeth on them. I grew up reading lots of fairy tale collections, and I realized I could only with difficulty think of fairytales where women were friends, where women talk to each other, and where they weren’t antagonists to each other in some way. I know they’re there, but the fact that I could reach for 10 stories of women waiting for rescue or women waiting to be chosen or women seeking husbands or, you know, that sort of thing instead of a story of women setting out together to have adventures—which is really what I wanted to tell my 7 year old niece who is asking me for a fairy tale— It was very disturbing to me, and I just remember in that moment thinking I’m just going to make something up. I’m gonna make something up because I really want her to know that there is room in fairytales for girls to be friends.
I hope I don’t give too much away, but I was quite inspired by Witness, with Harrison Ford amongst the Amish. I was really interested in this idea of a gangster amongst peacemakers, which is really what Witness is. I find that really fascinating. I became interested in Celtic Christianity because it was very revolutionary at the time in ways that we slightly forget. This was a world of utter warlordism, a very, very violent world and it was pagan. All of that was predicated on the idea that it was good to be strong and kill people. If gods were with you, that’s what would happen. If gods weren’t with you, you’d be weak. The idea of a religion that was founded on the idea that you might want to be weak, or you might want to be humble, was completely insane to these people. I mean, they looked at it and just went, “You’re mad! What are you talking about?”
“Why was Anne Boleyn executed? This was a question I asked myself when writing The Beheading Game, in which Anne Boleyn wakes up after her own execution, escapes from her grave in the Tower of London, sews her head back on, and goes on a revenge quest to kill Henry VIII before he can marry his next wife, Jane Seymour. Legally, the answer is she was executed because she was convicted of the crimes of treason, adultery and incest, but most historians today agree those charges were probably false. So, how did Anne go from being a queen consort, steps from the seat of English power, to climbing the steps to the scaffold in a matter of months? Sometimes the simplest explanation is the most likely, and, although I came to many answers to this question during my research, all of them circled around one central theme: misogyny.”
“When we think of environmental disaster or climate change, we often think of catastrophic events—the Californian or Australian wildfires, deadly floods in Bangladesh or Pakistan, a destructive typhoon or hurricane. When events like those becomes the point of focus, we stop thinking about other kinds of destruction and degradation. I wanted to find a way to reveal what Rob Nixon called slow violence. I didn’t want the major catastrophes to entirely dominate the novel; I wanted to bring slower instances of change to the foreground.”
“I am endlessly fascinated by sexuality—it’s almost embarrassing how much it shows in my published works. Similarly, I’m always exploring grief and the loss of innocence. Writing 200 Monas felt like a fun way to explore both simultaneously. The intersection between grief and sex somehow reminded me of being young, when the death of my father coincided with my spring awakening; I was always seeking refuge in romantic relationships, sexy films, and perverted conversations with my friends. I wanted to write something that captured that dichotomy in some way, this idea of being sad and horny at the same time.”
“There are only so many stories out there—people say seven—but for me, the question is always: what is the question I want to ask?…In Kin, the question I was interested in interrogating is the idea of searching for one’s mother. The classic story tells us, of course you search for your mother. If someone says, I don’t know where my mother is, we frame it as a brave quest to find her. But I wanted to question that impulse. Is it always better to know? Is it okay not to know? Can we learn to be satisfied with not knowing? In real life, people can be satisfied with what they have. In real life, you can marry someone who isn’t the person you once dreamed of and still have a good life. In a story, that’s often treated as an unpardonable compromise. I’m trying to bring into story life the wisdom we already know from real life.”
“When I learned about the Lebensborn, many years ago, I had a hard time believing this could be true. When I was able to confirm it, I was deeply appalled and knew I had to write about it. And I felt a book about this subject could only be for adults…the strong feelings I had about the Lebensborn never left me. Even back then, I felt girls should know about this terrible aspect of that war…It wasn’t until I learned, later, that children as young as 11 were working as couriers for the Resistance that the first seed for The Lions’ Run was planted. I began to wonder if those 11-year-olds were aware of how courageous they were. I think a lot about courage in kids; they are often confused about what it means to be brave.”
“There’s a moment in the book where Sage learns that grief is like hunger and that she will always be grieving like there’s never going to be a day that we don’t need to eat,…I can have breakfast, and then by dinnertime, I need to eat again, and next week I’m going to need a meal, and three years from now, I’m going to be hungry. That was freeing for me as a person. It wasn’t just a plot point or something to just put in the book. It was really what I needed for myself to understand that I would always miss my mother, or that there will always be some issue that we’re fighting against and standing up for in this nation, and that I can hold all of that. That’s normal and I’m okay.”
“I really enjoyed writing from Beth’s perspective. When I first read Little Women, I didn’t much like Beth. Honestly, she freaked me out. I couldn’t understand how she could accept her own untimely end with such ease. I wanted to shake her and say, “Aren’t you going to fight? Don’t you want to live?” Of course, she did. Writing Beth Is Dead helped me understand that Beth March never wanted to die, but she wasn’t given a choice, and she faced the unimaginable with bravery and strength..”
“I am obsessed with old Hollywood. I used to love Nick at Night and all the old classic TV shows. I’ve always been fascinated by that, but I’ve also always been fascinated by the fact that we all have a behind-the-scenes. And when I was touring for All the Bright Places, which is a young adult book I wrote years ago, the thing I heard most from my readers was, “Thank you for letting me know that it’s okay to be messy. It’s okay to be me, that, you know, I feel seen, and I matter.” And I just kept thinking about the fact that it’s so sad that so many people, well, all of us actually, have a behind-the-scenes that we aren’t always comfortable showing or sharing with other people. And so I wanted to write something about that. And then I thought, oh, I could combine it with my love for Hollywood because God knows there’s a lot going on behind the scenes there.”
