The 5+1 Not-About-Writing Interview with Author Julie Buxbaum
Her latest novel, Admission, fictionalizes the college admissions bribery scandal
Today’s interview is with Julie Buxbaum, author of Tell Me Three Things, What to Say Next, Hope and Other Punchlines and the latest Admission, a book about Chloe Wynn Berringer, a privileged girl whose B-list celebrity mom gets caught in a college admissions scandal. (Yes, a timely book based on that admission scandal.)
In addition to writing, Julie is a fellow parent of school-aged kids who are not in live school right now. She frequently tweets about the, shall we say, enlightening experience that is 20202021 (years written as an upsetting blob because they feel that way), and I like to pop over to her Twitter to see what she’s saying because I’d like to make sure I’m not the only one who feels like she’s sliding deeper into the deep end.
Her posts reassure me that I’m not, but her version of deep-end-sliding is far cleverer than I’m playing it. For example, she pitches President Joe Biden to executive orders he should sign, like one to heretofore cease people talking to her when she’s in the bathroom.
As with inaugural interviewee Anna Carey, I asked Julie five non-writing-related questions and one writing one. (To explain the thinking behind these — as I’m sure they may seem random — my questions for each writer are different and tailored; I’m thinking of them as follow-ups to items they’ve talked about on social media, in interviews elsewhere, or tangential to their latest books. As Julie has been tweeting hilariously and thoughtfully about this time we’re all in, you’ll see quite a few of her questions are follow-ups on that.)
The interview is below, but you can also learn more about Julie on her Twitter feed and on Instagram where she also created the IGTV series, Admission Impossible. There, she’s chatted with best-selling, award-winning authors ranging from John August and Leah Johnson to Robin Benway and Eve Rodsky.
IMP: This is vaguely writing related but it's about puns so it's a crucial question. I have so much respect for your punning ability and that you come up with great names for the businesses and restaurants in your books. What is your favorite business name you've created for fiction that you'd like to patronize in real life?
JB: Okay, here is where I come clean. I often crowdsource the puns in my books. (Though I am currently working on a project that has a frightening amount of fart puns and those are all ME.) I usually put out a call on Facebook to all my fellow pun loving friends whenever I need something to have a punny name. My absolute favorite (and I believe it was Jennifer Mathieu, author of Moxie, who came up with this one) is the name 9021Om for a fancy Beverly Hills yoga studio. It could not be more perfect.
IMP: Sorry, but I have to do at least one question on pandemic survival, so what's the best purchase you made to -- as you said on an Instagram story -- feel something? And, what's the single worst thing you bought for or during the pandemic?
JB: I've never been much of a shopper, but recently I've been doing some self-care purchasing because I am so understimulated and bored and sad. I suddenly understand that endorphin rush of the buy button. So, best purchase? An electric foot massager that I keep under my desk. It has a heating function and it is so delightful and indulgent and I'm not kidding when I say it makes me feel loved. I've also bought a dry brush, and now brush my entire body before getting in the shower. I don't know if that was my best purchase, but it is definitely my weirdest one?
As for worst purchase, I did buy a pair of Old Navy jogging bottoms in a size way too big, and when I put them on they make me feel like I have given up on life. Let's be clear: I have given up. But I don't need to be reminded of it by my depressing pants.
IMP: Here's another question I came up with from stalking on social media. You brought up how you're looking at different places around the world and fantasizing about what life would be like if you and your family were there -- where's the best location you've come up with and what would your life be like there?
JB: Oh man, I fantasize all the time about moving to New Zealand. Not only is it a totally pre-pandemic world in my imagination, but I picture myself and my family there, and in the fantasy we are totally different people. We are rugged and outdoorsy and maybe like tending sheep, when in reality we are couch potatoes who prefer books and television to nature. Also, I'm pretty allergic to all farm animals.
IMP: Lately, I'm looking at the me from the beginning of the pandemic that thought maybe I'd finally update my website, clean my pantry, and get vaguely organized but did none of those things (even vaguely). What was the you of early pandemic thinking you'd do that you did not get around to?
JB: We have a room in our house that I think of as our Room of Shame. We've lived in this house for eight years and we've just never been able to get it together. It's the place where things get stacked and mail gets piled up, and too many things get stored, and when people come over we close the door and pretend it doesn't exist. So I had big plans to tackle that room. And I did...at first. But somehow, the entropy of the Room of Shame won and now it's even worse than it was pre-pandemic.
IMP: What's the most embarrassing thing you hung in your college dorm?
JB: Oooh, this is such a good question, and I wish I had a good answer? I feel like I still love all the same things I loved in college. I never outgrew The Counting Crows.
IMP: Now, your writing question. I'm trying to avoid the phrase "ripped from the headlines" because it sounds so angry, but Admission is very timely as it emerged around when Lori Loughlin got out of prison. Do you remember when you realized you could make the college admissions/prep scandal into a story, and how you created the character so we didn't automatically hate her? Also, what's a "ripped from the headlines" story you would absolutely not touch in fiction but would want someone else to?
JB: I knew pretty quickly after the scandal broke that I wanted to write my version of the story. I didn't always like Chloe's mom, who we know from pretty much page one is guilty of trying to bribe her daughter's way into college, but she was so much fun to write and hopefully that joy translates over to the reader. My goal wasn't to have you like her necessarily, but just understand her and have her come across as believable on the page. As for other "ripped from the headlines" stories, I'd love for someone (not me) to rewrite the Monica Lewinsky story so we could view it from the modern lens. We all had it so wrong at the time.
Other things worth sharing:
This is an older rec, but Julie’s mention of Monica Lewinsky reminds me of the Slow Burn podcast about that scandal. It’s great.
The New York Times Presents: Framing Britney on Hulu (everyone’s watching or watched this, I know but it’s worth the reminder)
Follow-up reading on Britney, Anne Helen Petersen’s Substack piece, “Britney Should Get 10 Hours” (I admit I haven’t read this but many of Petersen’s columns and pieces are right-on, and I recommend her newsletter.)
Hints and Help from Heloise – Nah, you don’t have to read this but I’m musing on it lately. I had a copy of this when I was 12 because my grand-aunt had it and when she passed away and I went with my family to help clear out her place, I guess I wanted this book? But I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately because I have no inner Heloise – like, I never remember how to get stains out of things and when I see dirty baseboards, I think to myself there’s probably a way to handle those but who knows? (I’d add to this, I don’t care enough to actually do much about the baseboards but it would be nice to know how if I did get the urge. Instead, what ends up happening is, I wonder why baseboards exist, anyway, and they’re really just decoration and to prevent your walls from getting kicked, dirty, or scuffed but what if you kick, soil, or scuff the baseboards? Peel-away baseboards would make more sense.)
This will probably be a larger piece at some point but I did order a used copy of the book – the edition I had – and, in flipping to a random page, found this line about dealing with roaches (which, thank god, I’m not; baseboards are a big enough problem): “If you are lucky enough to have a carpeted kitchen (emphasis mine), vacuum it after each meal, or at least once a day.” To that I’ll say, I will invite roaches in before I ever had a carpeted kitchen to vacuum after each meal. Also, what’s maybe most interesting about this book, one of many similar books Heloise Bowles Cruse published in the 1960s, is that while some of its tips are acutally useful, so many are so ridiculous that it makes me think someday, some of the tips we’re all making ourselves miserable about not doing or the home upgrades we wonder if we should have will seem likewise as pointless and undesireable as a CARPETED KITCHEN.
Eavesdropping on videos Nate has to watch for kindergarten: I learned that Mt Rushmore is only heads because we ran out of money. I didn’t know that, I probably should have. One of those, “he’s teaching me more than I teach him” moments except in this case it was YouTube.
Emily Adrian’s upcoming novel: Second Season, which comes out July 27, is about a sports broadcaster and mom who’s going out for a job to become the first woman to call NBA games on national television. You should preorder it. Women claiming space where previously only men have gone is kind of my thing, too.
Finally, here’s a list of some of the ways to donate to mutual aid organizations helping people without water, electricity, food, or shelter in Texas. Thank you all for being here, and reading this, and not escaping to Cancun when things get tough.
1. That Slow Burn podcast is really great. I haven’t listened to the David Duke one yet (can’t stomach it) but Clinton Impeachment and Nixon seasons were riveting. And yes, we def got our feelings about Lewinsky wrong.
2. Early pandemic, I bought a home keeping “manual” called “Home Comforts.” It’s nearly 900 pages long (really) and has 3 pages dedicated to “How to Choose Dishcloths.”