Moms Don't Have Time To

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by Zibby Owens




  Advance Praise

  “Zibby Owens is a genius at throwing a party—the kind where all the guests will like each other, the chatter won’t stop, and everybody leaves feeling like they’re part of a chic bookish girls club. But with the pandemic throwing a wrench in IRL parties, Zibby found that she was just as at home throwing a party via essay collection and that’s what this is: a vertical Rolodex of friends who will remind you that women can, do, and always have had the power to balance entire impossible lives—and still read books. Welcome this explosion of joy onto your bookshelf that is so relevant, so now, and so purely Zibby.”

  —LENA DUNHAM, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Not That Kind of Girl

  “Zibby Owens is a maven and a connector, a book lover whose passion for people and genuine interest in their stories has transformed a global community of readers into an intimate and supportive society of friends. This collection is the product of Zibby’s talent, passion, and constant quest to find the stories both big and small that make our lives meaningful. As a mother, as a wife, as a reader, as an author—simply as a human being—I cherished this collection of honest, thought-provoking, and funny essays.”

  —ALLISON PATAKI, New York Times bestselling author of The Queen’s Fortune

  “Zibby’s essay collection is just like her: warm, inclusive, literary, at times funny, and always refreshingly real. Every piece in here will make you think, shift your perspective, and touch your soul.”

  —LORI GOTTLIEB, New York Times bestselling author of Maybe You Should Talk To Someone: A Therapist, Her Therapist, and Our Lives Revealed

  “Even before COVID-19 changed the way we live and work and communicate with each other, Zibby Owens was already a force for good: promoting books through her ‘Moms Don’t Have Time to Read Books’ podcast and events and bringing people together who shared her passion for reading. Throughout the pandemic, she continued to be The Great Connector, making us all feel less alone during a time of unprecedented anxiety, isolation, and uncertainty. Moms Don’t Have Time To is the product of the many writers and readers she connected—“virtually”—in lockdown: a network of women encouraging each other, showing up for each other, and supporting each other through both our best and our toughest moments. Funny, moving, and hopeful, these pieces will forever remind us how we all got through this singular moment in history: together, and with a lot of great books!”

  —LAURA ZIGMAN, bestselling author of Animal Husbandry and Separation Anxiety

  “The perfect reminder for every mom that none of us have it all together, all of us are doing our best and, most important, even your worst days make a great story.”

  —NORA McINERNY, author of No Happy Endings and host of popular podcast Terrible, Thanks for Asking

  “Each of these brilliant essays shines as bright as Zibby Owens herself, who is a Fourth-of-July firework in human form. Actually, I’ve always wished that everyone could have the opportunity to experience Zibby’s pure energy in person. She’s a connector of people, a bolt of energy, a burst of unconditional love. But then, after reading this book, I realized you don’t actually have to meet Zibby in person to experience her pure Zibbyness. You can read these essays, which she has lovingly nurtured and curated in the midst of both a global pandemic and her own personal losses therein, and feel that Zibby godlight shining through all of our clouded souls.”

  —DEBORAH COPAKEN, New York Times bestselling author of Shutterbabe, The Red Book, and her new upcoming memoir, Ladyparts

  “This moving collection, curated by Zibby Owens, runs the gamut of human relationships. These essays examine our connection with our bodies, our lovers, our kids, our friends, and our minds. Each one is poignant and sharp, slipping between the mundane and the spiritual, and is utterly refreshing during a time of universal longing and loneliness. Moms Don’t Have Time To is an absolute gift.”

  —STEPHANIE DANLER, New York Times bestselling author of Sweetbitter and Stray

  “Zibby Owens is a force for good in more ways than I can count. In this anthology borne of a longing to connect and heal, she has gathered a group of wise and generous writers—herself included!—who are quite simply the best company. Curl up with this book, and I promise you’ll be surrounded by kindred spirits.”

  —DANI SHAPIRO, New York Times bestselling author of Inheritance: A Memoir of Genealogy, Paternity, and Love

  “In a time when we need to feel connected more than ever, Zibby Owens has done what she does best—bring together extraordinary voices in the literary world to give us words that make us feel less alone. This anthology will be one to keep handy for years to come, something to turn to when you just need to be reminded of how perfectly imperfect we all really are.”

  —CLAIRE BIDWELL SMITH, bestselling author of The Rules of Inheritance and author of Anxiety: The Missing Stage of Grief

  “Zibby isn’t just a tireless champion for books, she’s a community builder who was able to make readers and authors feel less alone during a year of terrible isolation and uncertainty. This collection of warm, relatable, funny, unfailingly honest essays feels like hanging out at a book club full of smart, funny women once the Chardonnay hits. It’s the Algonquin Roundtable in yoga pants. As an author and a mom, I’m so glad I found time for Moms Don’t Have Time To. The dishes, on the other hand . . . ”

  —BESS KALB, bestselling author of Nobody Will Tell You This But Me

  “From ‘Awake, 3:01 a.m.’ to ‘Sheltering with Ghosts’ to ‘How to Have Sex with a Germaphobe,’ this collection of essays, written in real time during the spring and summer of 2020, is a boon pandemic companion. Writer Zibby Owens has created an anthology full of emotion, humor, and good advice for these troubled times and beyond.”

  —LILY KING, New York Times bestselling author of Writers & Lovers

  “Zibby Owens has assembled some of the best writers around and the result is a hilarious, inspiring collection of essays about all the things we don’t have time for, and yet must do to keep ourselves joyful and engaged—or, at the very least, sane. A delightful read from start to finish.”

  —J. COURTNEY SULLIVAN, New York Times bestselling author of Friends and Strangers

  Copyright © 2021 by Cottage 8 Communications LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Skyhorse Publishing, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

  Skyhorse Publishing books may be purchased in bulk at special discounts for sales promotion, corporate gifts, fund-raising, or educational purposes. Special editions can also be created to specifications. For details, contact the Special Sales Department, Skyhorse Publishing, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018 or [email protected].

  Skyhorse® and Skyhorse Publishing® are registered trademarks of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.®, a Delaware corporation.

  Visit our website at www.skyhorsepublishing.com.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

  Cover design by Jovelyn Valle

  Cover photo and art direction by McCain Merren and Nina Vargas

  Print ISBN: 978-1-5107-6596-2

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-6597-9

  Printed in the United States of America

  To my four kids, O, P, S & G, who all requested that they alone get this dedication. (Sorry, guys. You have to share.)

  And to Kyle. If it weren’t for you, no one would be reading this.

  In loving memory of Susan Felice Owens and Marie Felice, Kyle’s mother and grandmother, who
we lost too soon to COVID-19.

  All proceeds of this book will go to the Susan Felice Owens Program for COVID-19 Vaccine Research at Mount Sinai Health System.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Introduction

  READ

  ESTHER AMINI: Sheltering with Ghosts

  CHRIS BOHJALIAN: The Short Stories I Found in the Sweater Box

  ALLI FRANK: How David Sedaris Is Helping Me Get By

  RACHEL LEVY LESSER: Wait, Did I Kill My Book Club?

  KELLY MCWILLIAMS AND JEWELL PARKER RHODES: Ten Unforgettable Mother-Daughter Relationships in Fiction

  ASHLEY PRENTICE NORTON: Why Moms Really Join Book Clubs

  GRETCHEN RUBIN: Read More Books

  TIFFANY SHLAIN: A Technology Pioneer Shuts Down, Weekly

  REEMA ZAMAN: Dystopian Fiction Is Made for This Moment

  EILENE ZIMMERMAN: The Books Getting Me through Quarantine

  WORK OUT

  ELLIOT ACKERMAN: What My Father Taught Me

  KAREN DUKESS: Rowing into Midlife, One Stroke at a Time

  JAN ELIASBERG: Want to Stop Comparing Yourself to Others? Try Tree Pose

  SUZANNE FALTER: After My Daughter Died, My Son Took Up Rock Climbing

  CHRISTINA GEIST: I Don’t Want to Work Out. I’m a Lorelai

  DYLAN LAUREN: The Retro Workout That Changed My Life

  RACHEL LEVY LESSER: Breaking Up with My Kids

  COURTNEY MAUM: I Finally Learned to Dance Like Nobody’s Watching

  ZIBBY OWENS: Racing against the Coronavirus: How Working Out Is Keeping Me Sane

  JILL SANTOPOLO: How a Failed Relationship Made Me a Runner

  SARA SHEPARD: These Days, I’m Running to Stay Sane

  BONNIE TSUI: What Locker-Room Talk Sounds Like to Me

  EAT

  ELISSA ALTMAN: My Mother Says No

  NINA RENATA ARON: In Russia, Luggage Lost, Identity Found

  DIBS BAER: Hey, Food Network Addicts: This Is Our Time to Shine

  ALISON CAYNE: What the Brady Bunch Taught Me about Family Dinners

  LAUREN BRAUN COSTELLO: There Are No Plans to Make, So Why Not Plan Meals?

  RENE DENFELD: Food Can Hurt

  SONALI DEV: It Was Never about the Dough

  PHYLLIS GRANT: In Provence, Soothed by Goat Yogurt

  LAURA HANKIN: What I Saw at Your Kid’s Birthday Party

  COURTNEY MAUM: To Papayas, With Love

  ZIBBY OWENS: The Weight of It All

  BETH RICANATI, MD: Baking Challah to Connect

  HAVE SEX

  LISA BARR: Forget Date Night—Try Date Day

  RACHEL BERTSCHE: Here’s How Long It Takes to Have Good Sex

  KARMA BROWN: When I Got Coronavirus, My Husband Became My Wife

  V. C. CHICKERING: Your Orgasm Could Save Your Marriage

  WILLIAM DAMERON: Yes, But Not Now

  CLAIRE GIBSON: How to Have Sex with a Germaphobe

  CAITLIN MULLEN: What My Mother Taught Me about Sex

  ZIBBY OWENS: Don’t Crush My Butterflies

  WENDY WALKER: Now’s Not the Time

  BREATHE

  LIZ ASTROF: Moms Don’t Have Time to Cry

  JEANNE MCWILLIAMS BLASBERG: The Life-Changing Magic of Letting Go

  DEBORAH BURNS: My Mother and Me: An Unrequited Love Story

  LEA CARPENTER: White Noise

  GEORGIA CLARK: In Vietnam, a Glimpse of a New Life

  DONNA HEMANS: This Little Sprout of Mine

  JANICE KAPLAN: In Japan, a Mother and Son Find New Balance

  NICOLE C. KEAR: Lessons from My Origami Failures

  JOHN KENNEY: Awake: 3:01 a.m.

  SALLY KOSLOW: Why I’m Glad No One’s Driving Right Now—Including Me

  MAYA SHANBHAG LANG: Growing Up, Every Day Was Father’s Day

  EVANGELINE LILLY: Moms Don’t Have Time for the Movies

  ZIBBY OWENS: Kyle and Zibby: Stepfather, Step Right Up

  MARY LAURA PHILPOTT: Next Steps: A Perfectionist Tackles the Unknown

  JULIE SATOW: Does My Daughter Miss Her Babysitter Too Much?

  Author Features

  AT HOME WITH: Compiled by Carolyn Murnick

  JANELLE BROWN

  DAN PERES

  LAUREN MECHLING

  ROCHELLE WEINSTEIN

  POSTCARD FROM THE PAST: Compiled by Carolyn Murnick

  MEGAN ANGELO

  ALICE BERMAN

  CASEY SCHWARTZ

  TERESA SORKIN

  Afterword & Acknowledgments

  About the Editor

  INTRODUCTION

  It shouldn’t have been me. I was new to the literary world. Yes, I’d been dancing on its doorstep for decades, freelancing, ghostwriting, opening rejection letters about my novels. But I’d only really gotten immersed in it when I started my literary podcast, Moms Don’t Have Time to Read Books, two years earlier on a whim. (See the Afterword & Acknowledgments section for the whole story.)

  In the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, I found myself pulled to be the hub of author wisdom. It overtook me, this mission to help authors, to connect books to readers, to shine a light on shadowed stories. I felt an enormous responsibility to disseminate information, especially then.

  As all the structures of my personal life as a NYC-based, (re)married mother of four slowly circled the drain of the quarantine, my need to serve intensified. I felt like I was in one of those movies about the tsunami in Thailand. I could see the enormous wave coming, yet all I could do was jump up and grab a branch, hoping it would pass beneath me.

  The literary community has been my branch.

  Before COVID-19 hit, I thought I was busy. I was recording five podcasts a week, mostly in person at home. That meant reading/ skimming five books a week, preparing, researching. (Now, that seems easy.) As the virus neared, I packed up my family, grabbed our important documents, and made plans to leave. Admittedly, I was fortunate to have a place to escape to outside of the city while so many others didn’t have that option—and still don’t.

  As soon as I got the kids, then ages five through twelve, firmly situated in our shelter for the coronavirus, lovies on the pillowcases, devices charged, I got to work. What could I do? I quickly realized that so many authors, like the three hundred plus I’d interviewed intimately, were getting to the finish line of multiyear book-writing journeys only to have their “pub days” and accompanying events pulled. Their paperback releases were canceled. Conferences and speaking engagements, deleted. How would they be able to get the word out?

  I sat at the kitchen table as my kids circled about, drawing, fighting, dancing, and eating, and scrolled through all the books coming out. I picked the most intriguing titles and decided to promote them. But that wasn’t enough. I woke up at 3:30 a.m. when my six-year-old daughter climbed into bed with us and couldn’t fall back asleep. I had to do more. But what?

  News reports seeped in. My kids’ schools fell like dominoes, one closing, then another, until all four of their schools announced that they’d be closed until the end of April. Little did I know then that many wouldn’t even open come fall. This wasn’t going to be the two-week exodus I had anticipated or packed for. (Mental note: do not grab “dry clean only” sweaters when packing for a pandemic.) This was going to be for the long haul.

  As social distancing morphed into mandated business closures, many people started losing their jobs. GoFundMe campaigns popped up in my inbox for many restaurants and small businesses I cared about. I contributed online like I was playing a carnival game of Whack-a-Mole. As soon as I helped one, another appeared in desperate need. I kept whacking, eventually opening up free sponsorship slots on my podcast to help struggling entities.

  I doubled down on helping the literary community in the best way I could: bringing authors to readers. I reached out to the soon-to-be new authors and invited them to be on my new Instagram Live show, Z-IGTV. Maybe that would help? I vowed to do five live interviews a day every weekday in ten-minute slots. (Z-IGTV has since won media awards.)


  Suddenly I was a booker, researcher, producer, and anchor of a morning talk show, all by myself. Plus I still had my podcasts to prepare for. And the kids were waiting for me to play Monopoly. Or paint. Or find that one page of homework that they desperately needed. And could my daughter dye her hair blue? What?!?

  When a trusted team member suggested I stop doing Instagram Lives since they weren’t really boosting my number of followers, I tried to explain that I wasn’t doing any of it to boost followers or gain more newsletter subscribers, goals from pre-pandemic that I tossed aside as quickly as my high heels. My goal was just to help. Full stop. To give authors a platform. To entertain friends and strangers who were stuck at home, to give them a break from refreshing their horrifying news feeds on their phones, their anxiety spiking. To give away useful things from companies that offered, not to help my business but just to actually give things away and make people happy.

  As nurses with bruised faces from N95 masks appeared in the papers and soldiers tromped into my hometown to turn the Jacob Javits Center (where I’d been scheduled to attend BookExpo and to moderate a BookCon event) into a makeshift war hospital, I booked more experts. I skimmed books. I researched authors. I learned. I healed. I joked around “on air” and solicited advice from those far wiser than me. I asked what they were reading.

  It still wasn’t enough; I kept innovating. My husband, Kyle, and I launched an Instagram Live weekly show called KZ Time where we chatted with other literary couples. I started Zibby’s Virtual Book Club, which met weekly throughout the summer with half an hour of book club discussion followed by half an hour of author Q&A. (Now it meets every other week.) I recommended books in articles for the Washington Post, Real Simple, and Good Morning America. I went on TV often, many times with Kyle, and passionately explained why I loved certain books.

  Finally, I launched We Found Time, a magazine for the quarantine. I had been mulling over the idea for months, even before the pandemic hit. Author Claire Gibson and I had sat at my kitchen island and brainstormed how I could take my idea—a magazine with essays about all the things moms didn’t have time to do like eat, have sex, work out, breathe, and more—and turn it into something real. We realized it could be entirely written by authors who had been on my podcast. Claire volunteered to help me launch it. Memoirist Elissa Altman, whom I had long admired, joined the team to help edit incoming essays. And then, everything changed.

 

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