The novelist’s Lady Tremaine offers a fresh take on Cinderella’s supposedly evil stepmother.
Was “Cinderella” a favorite story when you were young?
As a child, I was extremely captivated by the grandeur of the classic Disney adaptation. I had a paired picture book that I insisted on looking at every night. But as much as I continue to love the pomp of the traditional “Cinderella,” it’s not a great curriculum for young girls. There is still a part of me I watch out for that occasionally waits to be “saved” or “rescued” versus relying on myself to solve a problem.
Why did you decide to reinvent the tale?
I had an objectively bad year in 2023. I was pregnant and caretaking for my husband through an emergency brain surgery and grueling monthslong recovery, all the while effectively single parenting our toddler. During this season of what felt like ongoing sacrifice, I was sitting in a hospital waiting room, scrolling on my phone, when I came across a depiction of Cinderella’s evil stepmother. For the first time, I didn’t see a villain. I saw a mother—a woman doing what she needed to do to take care of her family. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. That initial fascination grew into Lady Tremaine.
Did looking at other “Cinderella” variants shape the way you envisioned your novel?
There are estimated to be more than 500 versions of “Cinderella” globally. But all the others I encountered are somewhat similar. I wanted to tell a new version—one farsighted enough to ask, what happens after happily ever after?
The novel richly evokes the bleak financial situation faced by the stepmother, Etheldreda, along with her daughters. Why did that feel so important?
So much of the traditional happily ever after has hinged on marriage. But historically, that’s because—for women—matrimony meant security. And security, more often than not, meant money. It felt impossible to write about female autonomy in a preindustrial setting without reckoning with the economic realities that shaped women’s choices.
How did you go about giving Elin, your Cinderella figure, her particular personality?
Have you ever met someone who is too nice? To the point where they don’t feel genuine? And yet, as women, we’re raised to be nice from the very beginning—and criticized whenever we’re not nice enough. Elin’s character is one of the greatest symbols in the book; she represents all the issues I take with the traditional narrative. It was easy to flesh her out; the inspiration was everywhere.
Was there anything that surprised you as you wrote?
The last line of the novel landed with great impact and weight, not just because I was finishing the project, but because, if I were to package up a message and put a bow on it and present it to my daughters, I would give them this novel. I wasn’t expecting that level of gratification.
