6 Burning Q's with Writer Jennifer Romolini
The author of 'Ambition Monster' (and Everything Is Fine podcast host) shares why writing her memoir could feel like "a snake entering a small, dark tube."
Shello!
What a week, what a week; what a world, what a world. As this Substack is called MUTHR, FCKD, I can’t very well prance into your inbox without addressing the sheer audacity of the latest SCROTUS (spelling on purpose) calls that had us all diving headfirst into the nearest bottle of Tums the other night. That would be too FCKNG weird.
Help me as I process: Does this mean as long as you’re at work, you can help yourself to all the funds in the payroll, pillage the supply closet, show up whenever the FCK you want, spend the day scratching your shriveling balls, then literally shoot anyone who objects in the face without any viable repercussions? Is that what this means? And still get your full check ACH’ed into your account because your brainwashed delusional subordinate ball scratchers think you’ve been anointed in holy toilet water?
Talk about taking the LORDT’s name in vain.
Yeah, yeah, we’re all jaded and knowledgable about the brutalities of history and the ignorance of humanity but it’s always beyond FCKD when you’re teetering on a tightrope made of dental floss into a lawless society. All I know is there won’t be enough TUMS in the world to chonk on between now and November.
In the meantime, culture is rich with spoils this summer.
6 Burning Q’s With Jennifer Romolini
After a few listens to Everything Is Fine, Jennifer Romolini’s podcast for women over 40 with her friend and former Lucky editor Kim France, it struck me that Jennifer might be something of a kindred spirit, which is why I had to get my grubby mitts on a galley of her new memoir, Ambition Monster.
Before I knew it, I was eggs deep. There were an assortment of relatable parallels for me personally: Like me, she comes from a working-class background and grew up in an East Coast city that isn’t New York. Like me, she struggles with a scarcity mindset. Like me, she’s gone through some ups and downs on her long and winding journey in publishing and tech. Like me, she’s lived in Boston and Brooklyn. Like me, she worked at Time Out New York and Shondaland. And like so many of us, she often feels FCKD in a late stage capitalist world hardwired against women.
Ambition Monster is a strong, first person foray into how these circumstances can shape you as a person in relationship to your career. It’s a beautifully written, vivid, insightful account of how Jenn learned to associate her intrinsic value with what she did for a living, how and why leaning into the grind only dribbled a hint of gratification into a never-sated void in her chest and, ultimately, how she learned to bet on herself in a world that bets against her (and the rest of us). Check it out yourself and let me know what you think.
In the meantime, Jennifer was kind enough to answer 6 Burning Q’s for us curious MUTHR, FCKRZ.
MUTHR, FCKD: What inspired you to write Ambition Monster? How did you land on ambition and how we define ourselves through work as the throughline?
Jennifer Romolini: I knew I wanted to write a book about the post-girlboss mess of female ambition even as I was writing my first book but my agent at the time kind of poo-pooed the idea. Cut to four years later, we're in the middle of the pandemic, everyone is over everything, particularly work. I, myself, was more sour/jaded/burnt out than I'd ever been — and also in serious therapy. I was starting to sense that my bitterness around work was a defensive posture. I wanted to know what was underneath it. Turns out, underneath it was a lot of pain and grief, a lot of unprocessed "good girl" trauma. I wrote this book for me, but I suspected all along my story wasn't unique.
MF: You unflinchingly write about your formative years with your family and early romantic relationships. What was the most daunting part of bringing your past back into your present? Was the process cathartic in some ways?
JR: The process of writing this book frankly sucked, turning one's saddest secrets over and over (and over) in the rigor required of an editorial process completely changes you as a person. Crafting a book like this is like being a snake entering a small, dark tube — it was uncomfortable and suffocating, I didn't know when or how it would end but it was clear the only way out was through.
MF: Throughout the book, you describe a vague feeling of displacement that happens when there's a socioeconomic chasm between where you come from and where you've landed. What advantages and strengths did your upbringing give you that got you through and made you proud?
JR: My working-class parents are people of immense integrity who gave me a crystal clear sense of right and wrong, a kind of unshakable moral compass. That came in handy in the ethically nebulous professional environments I often found myself in. They also helped me build a finely-tuned bullshit detector which has been invaluable in corporate life. Last, my experience (with few exceptions) is that middle-class people tend to be more generous in all ways than rich people. My default setting is generosity, emotional and otherwise.
MF: This passage hit home for me: "For the longest time, my worst fear was that I'd grow up and never achieve 'success' in the limited ways I understood it, never live among interesting people or have access to interesting things. I feared my life would be a meaningless drudgery, a middle-class (if I was lucky) cliché. That I'd marry an incurious man, work an uninspiring job, become a prisoner to maintaining the lives of ungrateful children in a cookie-cutter, middle-of-nowhere home." Amen. You express this just before experiencing a pivotal shift and reckoning with burnout. Was your ambition the only monster or was it more a fear of mediocrity and scarcity that also drove you?
JR: I mean I think they're all of a piece, right? So much of hardcore striving is trying to outrun fear of some kind, no matter what your particular flavor. But, yeah for sure I was driven to not live a life that made me feel dead inside. Ironically, the top of the career ladder did precisely the thing I was trying to avoid.
MF: Inspired by your great grandma Dolores, you say the family anthem is "I fight! I fight" — her last words. What do you feel you're fighting for now, at this point in your life?
JR: I'm fighting for the privilege to be present in my life, for time to really connect to and enjoy my partner, my child, my friends. I'm fighting to feel grounded and sturdy, to stop doubting and hating myself, to show up appropriately and consistently for others, to have the curiosity, courage, and the opportunity to engage in challenging work I love. Mainly the fight now is for personal peace — really everything good springs from that.
MF: Ageism remains an ever-present and nefarious reality for so many of us. What are your thoughts on how creatives can push back against it?
JR: I know ageism exists, but I act as if it doesn't. I don't apologize for myself or say "I'm so old" to young people. I keep my skills relevant and diverse. I go after work I want. I behave as I always have: If they won't let me walk through the front door, I find a side window and sneak in. I'm vital, I'm skilled, I still have a lot to say and I refuse to be thrown away — I want all women my age to do the same. The world is lucky to have us, there's no reason to behave in any other way.
Amen, Jen. Amen. Chin, chin!
xx
Jenn’s approach to ageism is a brilliant strategy. Love it
I would operate from a scarcity mindset even if I sold a billion copies of my book. It’s in my bones.