For the past few weeks, I have thoroughly enjoyed our discussion of Aidan Donnelley Rowley’s debut novel, Life After Yes. Thank you to everyone who has read and contributed to our lively conversation. Today I am thrilled that Aidan has agreed to join us to weigh in on some of the themes and questions that came up during our discussion of Life After Yes.
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Motherese: At one point in the novel, Avery tells Quinn, “[Y]ou’re not a bad person.” Quinn then muses to herself, “There’s a big difference between not being a bad person and being a good one.” As you were crafting her, did you see Quinn as a good person, a not-bad one, or simply a real one? Does she change from one to another over the course of the book?
ADR: As I was crafting and creating Quinn, I saw her as human. Real. Full of flaws and fears and fronts like the rest of us. Over the course of Life After Yes, Quinn does evolve and mature. She begins to scrutinize self and soul and ask some hard questions. Questions about life and love and loss. Questions about good and evil and reality. At different points, depending on the existential and emotional torrents in her world, Quinn is good, not-bad, and real. I think this is true of us all.
Motherese: What do you think Quinn’s encounters with Cameron and Phelps give her that her relationship with Sage doesn’t?
ADR: Quinn is afraid of growing up and all that she perceives growing up to entail. She fears stability and predictability. For Quinn, Cameron and Phelps come to represent risk and rebellion and youth. Sage, on the other hand, symbolizes maturity and adulthood and commitment.
Motherese: Quinn’s father plays an important role in her life and in the novel. Given what we learn about her father, what advice might he have given her as she commences her marriage?
ADR: Quinn learns a painful lesson: her parents aren’t perfect. (Don’t we all learn this lesson at some point?) If he were around on the eve of her wedding, I think Quinn’s dad would sit her down on that old porch swing and tell her that no one is perfect. That flaws are what make us. He would tell Quinn that even the best marriage is work. Hard work. Constant and confusing work. And also the most exquisite work.
Motherese: A character in Life After Yes who intrigued me, but didn’t get much airtime in the book club, is Fisher, one of the partners at Quinn’s law firm. Given the importance of fishing as a theme and metaphor in the novel, why did you choose that name for this particular character? Can you talk a little bit about the role you wanted him to play in Quinn’s life?
ADR: Fisher was a good name for this man because even though he was up there in years, in the groove of middle age, he was still fishing. For happiness. For understanding. For meaning. In Quinn, he found a kindred soul and spirit. A vicarious second chance. Though his role in her life was fleeting, Fisher was important to Quinn. He was the portrait of what she could become if she did not open her eyes, ask, and dream. Fisher also played something of a paternal role at a time in Quinn’s life when the absence of her dad was a conspicuous hole in her existential fabric.
Motherese: Quinn’s drinking was the subject of much debate and discussion in the book club. Even if her drinking (not to mention her “workaholism”) is well within the realm of the real for a woman in her situation, to what extent do you think the way Quinn uses alcohol as an emotional anesthetic is problematic?
ADR: I think the way Quinn uses alcohol – to anesthetize, numb, spice, sweeten – is both exceedingly problematic and exceedingly common. Quinn is the prime example of the functional alcoholic. She depends on her drink to navigate her days and her doubts. And this dependence is more than worrisome, but it has also become a complex piece of her identity. Ultimately, Quinn sees that Sage will not let her drink like this forever, that he will challenge her patterns, and this makes her love him and respect him even more.
Motherese: The ending of Life After Yes leaves a lot of questions unanswered. Will we be seeing Quinn again?
ADR: I spent a lot of time and emotional energy on Life After Yes’s ending. It was very important for me to avoid the lurking temptations to tidy loose thematic strings and answer lingering questions. I did not want to close with a pretty pink Hollywood bow. Instead, I wanted to leave things satisfyingly open. No one knows what Quinn’s future holds. Including her creator. :)
Thank you, Kristen, for leading such a thoughtful discussion of my work. Reading your words and those of our comrades in this digital world has been immensely rewarding for me. I am incredibly honored and humbled that you selected my rookie novel for your burgeoning book club. Your unwavering support of me and of my writing has meant, and continues to mean, so much.
Image courtesy of Aidan Donnelley Rowley.
{ 16 comments… read them below or add one }
Great Q & A, Kristen!
Love hearing Aidan’s take on her own character, and how even she, as Quinn’s creator, doesn’t have all the answers.
Aidan makes it beautiful to become an adult…even when it is full of mess-ups and too much booze. She makes me WANT to grow up. No easy task in this society that worships youthful waistlines and people who bungee jump.
I was struck most by the transformational moments, of course. My favorite was the letter from Sage’s mother at the bridal shower. I saw my own mother-in-law differently in that moment and I’ve been married 22 years, so it was no easy task to make me take another look. I could bathe in the words of that letter for eternity. It was the effect it had on Quinn that rocked me…the eye contact, so often lacking in her throughout the book, becomes rock-solid after reading that letter.
The moment in the doctor’s office when Kayla thinks she’s going to lose her baby and Quinn wipes away the tear. This was enormously touching to me. For both women were vulnerable in that moment.
I loved the moment in the hospital when Fischer’s wife catches a glimpse of Quinn and Quinn explains herself, “We work together,” and the wife nods, “Sure you do.” So much captured in this moment for me, and so perfect that not more was made of it…until the daughter says, “I wish I saw more of him.”
But the wake up moment that might help me the most; to guide me is when Quinn accepts the latte from Avery and asks herself, “When have I ever made someone coffee?”
I make plenty of coffee. I hold plenty of people’s hands. But each of us has questions we forget to ask of ourselves. It is the questions I leave unasked that leave a piece of my life unlived.
Love that moment. The transitional moment for Quinn. She’ll have more. I’ll have more. They are the best part of growing up. Becoming more adult.
Thank you for this…Aidan for the book…Kristen for gathering friends to fish around as we share it.
Hi Rebecca,
Thank you for adding some of your favorite moments from the novel to our conversation today. I agree that Sage’s mother’s letter was a beautiful moment. I wonder if Aidan realized how perfect it was when she was writing it.
Thanks too for infusing Quinn’s seemingly innocuous question about coffee with meaning. Now you’ve got me thinking about what A-ha questions I need to ask myself.
This was a lot of fun! Thanks for organizing, Kristen, and for coming back to answer questions, Aidan!
Really good discussion, I’m particularly glad you touched on Fisher. Though fleeting, his role in the book felt to me to of utmost importance. And I have to say I’m glad that you, Aidan, resisted temptation to tie it up with a “pink bow.” I think it would have taken away from the quality of the book and my experience reading it.
Thanks Kristen for this. It was so enjoyable.
Loved hearing Aidan’s perspective on her characters. Like Christine, I thought Fisher was a pivotal character. He was Quinn’s wake-up call and I am glad it played out the way it did.
I am wondering if there is a Part Deux in store for Quinn (and for its creator)!
Thanks Kristen for this Q & A. Great questions and interesting discussion during the online book club. What’s the next book?
Great question, Rudri! I have it narrowed down to two choices. Stay tuned! :)
While I disliked the ending, I appreciated that Aidan ventured away from the “pink bow” ending. I thought more after reading it then while I was reading it. So much to digest.
This has been a great discussion, thank you for hosting this Kristen!
Great questions, Kristen. And I really enjoyed reading about Aidan’s thoughts on her book and her characters. It must feel so surreal on her part to have to evaluate the characters she created in public. But I suppose, unlike other writers, this is something all novelists will have to learn to do…
(Ooops, sorry I just had a system failure in the middle of commenting and had to have a tech guy trouble shoot.)
Anyway, I may have said this before but I’m impressed with how nuanced the characters and the scenes are and, while I’ve read my share of fiction, I’ve never fully appreciated the process of creating it until now. My conclusion? Writing a good novel that makes the reader react, relate, respond, reflect, etc. is no easy task. And Aidan did it!
As for how the book ends, I feel like those that end neatly and with a resolution don’t stay with me as long as those where the story and the questions continue well beyond the last page. Which makes me wonder what a novelist’s job is: to tell a story from beginning to end while entertaining and evoking relatable feelings, or to engage, challenge and possibly connect through universal human experiences that are cyclical and have no real ending? Or something else?
Again, thanks for letting me ramble ; ).
What a thought-provoking question, Belinda! I suppose the beauty (and curse!) of fiction writing is that the author makes all the decisions about where to take us. (Although there’s plenty of room for authorial judgment in non-fiction, a work that doesn’t include certain key details wouldn’t be entirely successful, I don’t think.)
But now you’ve got me thinking about which type of novels I like best in general, or, more specifically, which make me think the most: those that tie everything up at the end, or those that leave me with more questions than answers. I think it’s the latter.
I’m also glad you talked about Fisher a bit – I was so fond of his character, even if he only appeared briefly.
This might have been my favorite Q&A that I’ve read of Aidan’s recently – thank you two for putting it together. It was wonderful to read Aidan’s insights to her characters.
Thanks Kristen for another fantastic book club!
I haven’t read this book actually, but have heard about it a lot on Twitter, etc. I’m going to pick it up! Thanks!
Hi Kristen, Hi Aidan,
Really enjoyed this book club and all the different comments along the way—and kudos to Aidan for stepping in the ring and creating (which is so much harder than venturing opinions).
I’m intrigued by what Aidan says of Quinn’s drinking: “Ultimately, Quinn sees that Sage will not let her drink like this forever, that he will challenge her patterns, and this makes her love him and respect him even more.”
Love it as literature, but as for “real life” where happy and healthy can be dramatically uninteresting (but better for the kids), I would wish a word to certain readers, 2nd or 3rd glass of wine in hand, as they come across my comment.
Quinn’s attitude is a wish to be rescued (from all sorts of things) and Sage reads (very believably) as a classic enabler. Sage’s mom appears to have the same functional alcoholism as Quinn.
As Aidan points out, these people are real and numerous. Still, drinking is about problems with the self, lack of ability to truly hold the love one gets, etc.
The question of who Quinn truly is and what she is really about cannot be fully answered so long as her primary relationship remains with drink. She may be like so many who never reach their full potential (and that is believable enough), and yet to the extent she mirror any real readers, I would encourage being “uninteresting” and sober.
It takes courage to heal from this pattern, on both ends (Sage and Quinn). I would urge readers feeling uncomfortable at these words to ask themselves, “what might hitting bottom look like?” and try to make a change sooner than later if children are suffering from this pattern (and they know, at least in their unconscious and it does impact them).
Having seen too many clients who needed fires, car accidents, ruined relationships, finances and even jail (and you’d be surprised how well-educated and “successful” they were before rehab) before doing the real work—after which life invariably got so much richer and better in the most important ways.
No words make anyone get sober, only hitting bottom. But the notion that those we love will give up drinking because our love will transform them is a highly problematic idea.
I have seen many a Sage (male and female) learn from al-anon (which is for those with parents or partners who are the Quinns) how to stop unconsciously furthering the dynamic.
As for the Quinns, my words would be just one more drop in the bucket, but for the Sages, it might be the most loving thing you could do for your Quinn (not to mention for all the kids you influence).
Aidan, I must say that the fact that your characters got me feeling as passionately as I might about “real” people is a testament to your writing. Your non-judgment is perfect for the artist (and I’d go for that same tack were I wearing the artist’s hat). Sorry if I couldn’t help but throw in the therapeutic perspective after you’ve raised the issue in a portrait that cuts close to home for more than a few of us I imagine.
Thanks again for the great book club.
Thanks so much, Bruce, for offering the therapeutic language to express what troubled many of us about Quinn’s drinking and Sage’s enabling. I commend Aidan’s choice in offering us such a deeply flawed “heroine” hoping to be rescued by the bottle and, possibly, by her husband. Although I have never been in a relationship affected by alcohol, I do know how problematic it can be to think that one’s love will set him free (from whatever negative behavior). And maybe this is why I remain unsure about the prospects of Sage & Quinn’s match: in my experience, the best relationships are the ones in which neither is looking to be saved or savior.
Great Q and A! This was like dessert after the meal (the book). I feel like I know the characters even better now. I’m glad you mentioned Fisher; as a character, I found him very realistic and also very sad. Kind of like a ‘ghost of Christmas Future’ for Quinn and Co, you know?
Excellent interview! I enjoyed reading it :)