A Conversation
with Hurley Winkler

Gina Nutt: The first chapter to your novel, Plant Mom, introduces us to Valerie, who powers through a workday as she recovers from surgery, copes with loss, and prepares to host family for Thanksgiving. Theres such measured energy here. How did you approach pace as you structured the opening of this book?  
Hurley Winkler: Openings are so hard for me. I want to set everything up all at once, but no opening can do that. Not without making the reader feel completely bogged down. In terms of pace, I forced myself to slow down and take stock of what actually needed to be shared in the opening versus what could be saved for a later chapter. When I write and revise, I try to keep in mind that all readers have limited capacities, and that always helps me with pacing. I’m glad you think this chapter has a measured energy to it: that’s exactly what I was hoping to nail!

GN: Lyles Smiles Pediatric Dentistry and all the details you bring to life transport us into the world of the novel, especially Valeries sensibility. What do you think workplace settings and job particulars reveal about character?
HW: I obsess a teensy bit over giving characters the “right” job, because I think the workplace is one of the most powerful tools we have for character tools. Settling on Valerie’s job at the dentistry took a lot of trial and error. I wrote a draft in which Valerie managed political campaigns: I was drawn toward the way the grief surrounding a campaign loss could mirror that of a pregnancy loss. I tried another draft in which Valerie was a secretary at an elementary school, and getting her around kids gave me a sense of clarity around her desires for becoming a mom. But later on in the novel, Valerie starts making her own YouTube videos with plants, and I wanted to set up her capability and skillset early on. It’s incredibly boring to read, let alone write, a character as they learn how to use a camera and upload a video! It made more sense to me to put her in a medical-adjacent setting, where she could make ASMR-inspired videos on the clock, than it did to keep her at an elementary school, but the pediatric dentistry setting kept her around children. As I kept writing scenes that took place in the dentistry, I realized that Valerie could be stuck in this job, and that raised the tension around her desire to do something different with her life.

GN: This excerpt also introduces us to a shining constellation of characters whose bonds and interactions are in and of themselves a kind of engine. Did any character tensions and/or harmonies emerge that surprised you?
HW:  I loved writing interactions between Luna (the twins’ mom) and Valerie. The two of them are around the same age, but their lives look very different from one another’s. Putting these characters together made me aware of the tensions and harmonies in my own interactions, especially with people who are around my age. Like Valerie, I do my fair share of comparing myself to others—I mean, who doesn’t?—but I also relish the feeling of getting to know someone and learning about their circumstances.

GN: What’s in your creative mosaic? Books, music, restaurants, films, visual art, fashion, ephemera, architecture, anything that energizes your writing.
HW: To me, the perfect book makes me laugh, cry, and gasp. The Rachel Incident by Caroline O’Donoghue is an incredible example of this, as is anything by Kevin Wilson, especially Nothing to See Here and Now is Not the Time to Panic.

I also love TV comedies that highlight the good in the world, like Joe Pera Talks with You and How To with John Wilson and Parks & Rec. I also watch a lot of public television, especially Antiques Roadshow. There’s a segment at the end of every episode of the Roadshow called the “feedback booth,” where a few people who brought their treasures to be appraised share about how they struck out. A common line is: “Grandma told me this family heirloom would be worth a fortune someday. Turns out, it’s only worth thirty bucks. But we had a great time today!” For some reason, watching it makes me teary: it’s something about the mix of sentimentality and hope.