Note: This interview has been lightly edited for clarity and does not match audio exactly.

Alanna McAuliffe: Hi there, listeners. I'm Audible Editor Alanna McAuliffe, and today I'm sitting down with bestselling author Olivie Blake to discuss her latest novel, Girl Dinner, a biting satire on womanhood, power, and desire that's brimming with grim turns, simmering rage, and dark humor. Olivie, thank you so much for being here today.

Olivie Blake: Thank you so much for having me. I'm really excited to be here.

AM: Of course. Well, to dive right in, Girl Dinner is told from the alternating perspectives of sociology professor Dr. Sloane Hartley and college sophomore Nina Kaur. As the story unfolds, both of these characters must contend with the demands, expectations, and hunger of femininity, with Sloane navigating work, marriage, and motherhood, and Nina searching for community within an on-campus sorority while also exploring her sexuality and social politics. What were the origins of this story and how did it evolve as you wrote?

OB: Well, the concept of this story, like the actual thing that became the book, was really just a punchline. I was at San Diego Comic Con in 2023, and it was around the time that the girl dinner meme had gotten really big. I'm not on TikTok, so I actually did not know until recently that there was a song that went with this. But the way that it reached me was that all the restaurants around the convention center had these happy-hour girl dinner menus, and I was like, "What is this?" So, the first joke that came to mind was, "You know what would make a great concept? Is girl dinner, except it's a book about a cannibal sorority." I was sitting in the tour booth when I said it. TJ Klune was there, and Rachel, the marketing person, and Alex, who I call the numbers guy. I delivered this to them as a joke and they were like, "That's amazing. You have to write that."

I just continued to tell this joke. I think this is a very writerly/perhaps creative or artistic experience where you are saying something over and over because you know there's something there. So, finally, I had to admit, "Oh, I do want to write this." But it was also the product of a thought exercise that I was going through. I read a book some years ago, multiple books, where I realized that there was a significant and meaningful relationship between the woman's state of mind in the narrative and the way that she consumed food. In many of the books that I was reading, there would be a woman having a meltdown and during the meltdown she would suddenly eat this really rich meal or crave this very, like, devouring approach to food. And then there were also a lot of books I was reading where there was an association between a good woman being someone who can prepare the table, someone who has these sort of innate feminine skills.

So, I think starting from a few years ago, I was having this understanding of like, "What is this relationship with women and food?" There was something very strange and dissonant about this idea of femininity as an innate thing, because I think as a millennial, I'm part of a generation that we've kind of lost the skills that were normally taught to not just women but people of the generations before us. I feel like there are all these jokes about millennials being useless because we don't know how to do a lot of the things that our parents did. I think, specifically as a woman, I'm definitely part of a generation where it was like, "No, do well in school, do well at work, be the man that your mother wanted you to marry." That expectation has meant that we've sort of lost these traditional skills. And then to see that come back in social media trends like tradwives.

"I realized that there was a significant and meaningful relationship between the woman's state of mind in the narrative and the way that she consumed food."

The things that were starting to feel sort of sinister to me were, if you identify this as innate, there is no value of it as a skill. And also what is the expectation of a woman when we're also kind of obsessed with girlhood? I think 2023, it was very much the year of the girl. There was the Barbie movie, and just the coquette core and clean-girl makeup, and “I'm just a girl.” And we were all really wrapped up in Taylor Swift's vision of girlhood. I started to feel like I understand what is seductive about all this, I understand what is appealing about this. I also feel it's worrisome and a little bit insidious, because it seems like something is being sold to us, but what is it?

For that to coincide with the rise of conservatism and a loss of very significant rights to large portions of the population, and pretty much every marginalized group, it became like, "How can I look at this? How can I address what I see as a problem but try to bury the medicine a little bit and try to understand what is so appealing about this?" And not to be judgmental of the attraction we have to that content, because of course I understand the appeal, I see it myself, but to also see through the propaganda of it.

The thing that I keep talking about is the tradwives who have large social media footprints. They're not tradwives, because they're working, they have a job. They're content creators and they have a brand. All of that specifically means they are not traditional wives. So I think in turning this into a satire and talking about the wellness industry and talking about what is feminine power, and in what ways is it kind of ridiculous to even suggest that beauty is power, that's where the satire lives, is in that dissonance of “How much of this is something that's being sold to us, and what is real feminism?”

AM: Absolutely. Yeah, we'll dig into the cannibalism and the tradwife content within the book itself. But something that I was really drawn to is what you had just mentioned in your answer, which is this central recurrent theme throughout the novel that there is this objective, quantifiable goodness that women in the narrative either live in search of or eschew entirely while still projecting that veneer of poise and purity and virtue. Towards the end of the novel, there's this great line where Sloane concludes that, quote, "A good woman was just a good loser, because there was no f--ing way to win." It's a skewering line that resonated with me, and I'm sure will no doubt resonate with many listeners. What was it that you wanted to say regarding feminism and the role of women in society?

OB: I designed this book so that it's a slightly nauseating read. I wanted it to feel as you're reading, like, "Oh, something is going on here." Even if you know what's going on, that even adds to it a little bit. You can feel that you're heading toward a train wreck. And that passage of Sloane's is intended to do two things. It's meant to be very powerful, it's meant to be a gut punch. I did feel the gut punch while I was writing it and every time I read it.

But it is also intended to speak to that sort of girl-boss state of mind. Part of what was frustrating about a lot of the media that I just mentioned, and a lot of other books that I was reading at the time, books that I love, like Fleishman Is in Trouble by Taffy Brodesser-Akner, The Best of Everything by Rona Jaffe. These are books that come to the conclusion that it is not possible as a woman to have it all, and which is kind of the conclusion of the Barbie movie as well. I think what was really frustrating me was like, "Well, what can we have?”

I think that sometimes feminism gets caught up in the rhetoric of what Sloane is saying in that passage, that's just, "There is no way to win. There is no way to have it all." But I think that the outcome of that has been the tradwife mindset of, "Let's just have one thing that we do really well then. Or maybe there is no point to trying. The girl bosses are all tired, they need a girl lie down or whatever." But that's obviously a very myopic way to view things. It's very defeatist, and I think it allows you to weaponize your victimhood in a way that is not productive for actual meaningful change.

That passage is meant to speak to the reader. It certainly spoke to me. There are many times that I do feel like, not even just as a woman but as a person on the internet, there is no way to win. Anything you say can be misconstrued, almost everything we do is interpreted in bad faith. We don't live in times when I think we're trying to authentically understand each other. It's not rewarded by our algorithms. You cannot allow me to talk about the tech industry, or we'll be here all day. But yeah, I wanted it to have that sort of dual purpose of, emotionally, it's a compelling passage, but also what is it prompting Sloane to do that is maybe dangerous or violent or shortsighted. It contributes to that feeling of, "Ah, we're on the verge."

AM: I think that duality really comes across in both of your central characters, in both Sloane and Nina. Your novel opens with Sloane. She's an academic, she's a new mother to an 18-month-old baby, and she's trying to balance her career with what's been coined “the mental load.” So that's that thankless emotional effort that so many people, most prevalently women, put into managing their households. And then the vantage point shifts to Nina, who is seeking the best chance of future success by vying for the connections from the House, the sorority that has just proven unreal exceptionalism in their alumnae. What inspired you to unfold the narrative from those two vastly different yet devastatingly similar points of view?

OB: So, when I was trying to decide how to structure Girl Dinner in my head, I initially saw it as, "Am I writing this for the mothers? Am I writing this for the millennial women who are in my same stage of life? Or am I writing it for what is predominantly my reader demographic, which is younger women, Gen Z?" And then I realized, "Oh, I can find a way to talk to both of these women."

Ultimately, it's kind of the same conversation. Sloane has a few layers of burnout. She's at a stage in her life where she's starting to feel what I think many women my age are starting to feel. It's something that I keep quoting Miranda July in All Fours, because she said this just really interesting thing about how you can be in the most progressive marriage in the world, you can be a queer woman, you can have whatever values you want to have, but as soon as you, as a woman, married to a man, have a child, then the gender roles are imposed upon you. It doesn't matter how you see yourself anymore, it's how does the rest of the world see you.

I read it after I wrote Girl Dinner, but it's something that has really stuck with me, because that's kind of what's going on with Sloane, is Sloane is already seeing, "There's no way to break out of this cage. There's no way for me to avoid the situation that I have found myself in. I did all the work, I did everything I was told, and here I am, just another mom. I'm some person's mom, and that's all I am." So, it was important to address that feeling and to take seriously and authentically that feeling, but to also lean in to the [laughs]—“lean in,” what a time to use that phrase—but to lean in to the ways that she sees Nina as doomed.

"Being in my sorority kind of taught me, 'No, I am like other girls, and that's a good thing and I should celebrate that.'"

She sees herself in Nina, she sees the person that she was when she was young. In a lot of ways, she conflates her own youth with Nina's existence. But it was important, I think, to see it from Nina happening in real time. Like, what is Nina actually hungry for? What are her ambitions? What does she want? And not in a way that makes it this one-way road to Sloane; in many ways, it does feel like it is. I think that's the whole women-can't-have-it-all attitude, is the idea that when you imagine what Nina's life could be, or the trajectory of Nina's life, there are a lot of ways that it turns out just like Sloane's. But the fact that we are existing in Nina's story alongside her means that it doesn't allow you to generalize.

I think if we were just looking at this story from Sloane, we could come to a lot of the same conclusions Sloane does, just like, "Well, she's doomed." The life that every girl Nina's age is going to live is going to take her down this same road. That would be, I think, a very dark way to look at it. Which isn't to say that it isn't, but to have Nina there, alive and very much functioning in this story, the openness of her, this juncture that she's at between girlhood and womanhood being not predetermined, is very important. It was nice to have their contrast, because I think both perspectives are very important to the story.

AM: Well, without getting into heavy spoilers, Nina and Sloane, their worlds begin to converge when the former is initiated into the House and the latter signs on as the sorority's academic advisor. I'm so curious about what drove you to set this story within a cannibalistic sorority. I mean, based on the popularity of RushTok viral videos alone, it's evident that there is this persistent fascination and sometimes disdain for sorority culture that extends far beyond fiction. Why do you think it is that audiences inside the fold and outside are so captivated by Greek life? And why did you choose to center the world of sororities within your novel?

OB: So, I was in a sorority, and I loved it. I have complicated feelings about it because we can definitely say explicitly that Greek life has a racial bias. It has persisting problems, but at the same time, it was one of the places I felt safest in terms of coming into my own womanhood. I think that being in a sorority really defined for me my understanding of feminism, of my relationship with other women. I think that, especially because I grew up in the aughts and in a time of trying to be not like other girls, being in my sorority kind of taught me, "No, I am like other girls, and that's a good thing and I should celebrate that." So, it was a real mindset refresh for me, and I enjoyed it.

But at some point, someone asked me, they were like, "You don't seem like a sorority girl. Why did you join a sorority?" And again, kind of as a joke, I was like, "Power." But as soon as I said it, I was like, "Actually, yeah, no, I think that's true." What is appealing about a sorority is its social capital. And on a university campus, it's a sort of subcultural capital as well. In some ways, Greek life, they're like the tastemakers to some degree. I know that's not true at every university, and some of that is imagined, I'm sure, but I think that is what's appealing and what is, again, seductive about it. It's our very American version of the university secret society. Every sorority and fraternity has its rituals, and those rituals are significant. They have their own hierarchy, they have their own inner workings, and it's an ecosystem. It's fascinating, psychologically.

I knew it would be fascinating to a character like Sloane, who's a sociologist. They're little microcosms of society. The reason that Sloane is a sociologist is mainly so that I could say things that she would actually be thinking about. I studied urban planning and public policy, so that's also kind of my education, my mindset. It was a way of like, "Here's how I can reflect on what I'm seeing through a character, while also pushing through her story."

The sorority aspect, it's funny, I'm known for dark academia because of the Atlas Series, but I did not think of this book as being dark academia until a lot of people said, "Oh, there's an aspect of it here." I think it's true that the rot is in the institution, the call is coming from inside the House, literally.

AM: I want to pivot for a moment to the narration of this audiobook, which is phenomenal.

OB: It's amazing.

AM: Girl Dinner is brought to life by a team of talented performers in Rita Amparita and Stephanie Németh-Parker. What was the casting process like? And what did you find these actors brought to the characters you created?

OB: I am very fortunate to work with a great team at Macmillan Audio. I love my producer, Steve, and he's very indulgent of me when it comes to the audio productions. I feel like I get a good amount of involvement. This was a funny one for me because I was asked if I wanted to voice Sloane. And for me it's difficult, just logistically, I don't have the time to narrate an audiobook. I also felt that my voice sounds kind of young. I was like, "You might have difficulty finding someone to do Nina if I am Sloane." So that was just a funny thing, though, that I had to stop and be like, "Huh, should I?"

But Stephanie, I worked with before. She did some of the short stories in the Januaries audiobook, which is just incredible. She also was the voice of Aliff in the Atlas Series. So she's a narrator I'm really familiar with. She has incredible range. I had specified for the audition, because the way that it typically works for audiobooks is that the narrators read the same passage, and so I get to hear the same passage a few times to see who is interpreting it. But at the same time, they don't have the whole book, they're just interpreting the passage that's in front of them. Sometimes it'll be like, "Oh, this is a great voice but they need a little bit more direction, or this is not quite the right interpretation."

Stephanie just nailed it. She basically read a section where it's a complex section. It was difficult to write, and I assume difficult to perform, because it's from Sloane's perspective, but Sloane is having a meltdown. Sloane is losing it on the page. But Sloane thinks she's fine. Sloane is like, "I'm having completely normal thoughts. Everything is fine." But everyone who's reacting to her is like, "Girl, you are crazy. Like, what's going on?" So, first for Stephanie to achieve that, with no direction, I mean it was just a no-brainer. It was like, "This is absolutely perfect." She's got the humor. She can do serious, she can do romantic. The stories she read in Januaries were the really romantic ones, and she just nailed it. So, she's fantastic.

And then Rita is someone I've not worked with before, but I was very cognizant with Nina. Something that I've observed since I've written a couple of YA books under my real name, Alexene Farol Follmuth, and I have come to observe that sometimes narrators do this thing that I consider a little bit sexist, where they read women's voices with a vocal fry, and they're doing the Valley Girl thing just because she happens to be a teenage girl. There were a couple of auditions where they defaulted. I understand the demands on the performer. They had to differentiate between Nina's voice and her sister Jas's voice. But to hear Jas, which when you read the book, you'll understand that's not Jas's voice. So, I was just like, "This being the default decision by a narrator does not indicate to me that this person really understands where this story's going." Which is a grand deduction. But all of which to say, Rita did not do that.

I think Rita had a great respect from the start for Nina and for the characters in Nina's circle. It felt like when Rita was performing, she understood these may be young women, but they're ambitious and they are talented and they're educated, and these are the women who are going to go on to be what Sloane and her fellow older women are. I just felt there was such a clear and strong interpretation of who Nina was and the kind of ambition she had. This was also a super easy choice for me. I was so thrilled.

AM: Okay, before we fill up on appetizers, I think it's time to get to the meat of the story. Please excuse the puns.

OB: No, no, no. I love it. I love that people are really going for it.

AM: So, as you mentioned earlier, the House isn't your ordinary sorority. As listeners will glean from the cover and the publisher summary alone, their traditions veer towards, to put it lightly, the unorthodox in that they routinely put candidates forward to then be slaughtered and consumed for a variety of benefits, be it beauty, power, or wellness. It's only in embracing this taboo that so many of the women in Girl Dinner gain what they ultimately seek. What did you want to convey with that narrative? And what was it like to cross those proverbial lines in the sand as an author?

OB: So, the reason that I always emphasize that this is not a book filled with cannibalism—but it's really funny because my editor was like, "I feel like there's gotta be more cannibalism." And I was like, "Lindsay, you get a disease if you eat too much human flesh."

AM: Which comes up throughout the book.

OB: Yes. I was like, "I'm really sorry, but I'm not going to pretend that you're not going to get sick." But it was funny to be arguing about, like, "Which reality of cannibalism are we going to actually use?" I also had a conversation with my father-in-law. My husband is from a farming community in very rural Iowa, and so I wanted to have a conversation with my father-in-law about unusual meats and butchering techniques. He didn't know what we were talking about, bless his heart.

It was very fun, but it was also a very serious contemplation of, how do I want to say this? Girl Dinner was written at a particular pinch point in time. Girl Dinner was written in the fall of 2023, so we were kind of seeing the writing on the wall for the 2024 election. And there's this line where Nina's twin sister Jas is complaining about these shirts that she hates. These “You go, girl boss” shirts and the kinds of things that you see people wearing in your yoga class. Jas was real upset about it. There was a line, I think the original version of the line was, "Oh, but we can't have a woman in office because we're too emotional." And I decided to optimistically change it in copy edits because I was like, "What if Kamala wins this election?"

"It is important to me that this is a book that hates the patriarchy, not a book that hates men."

So, I changed it to, "We can't have too many women in office. We're too emotional for that." And then, obviously, we know what happened. So, when I went back to that line, I changed it to, "We can't have equal representation," because what I feel is important about addressing feminism as a movement is, I think what some people point to as its pitfalls are that it's an ideological, like, "Oh, girls, we never win." There are clear feminist goals, there are clear things that we want that are not unreasonable to demand, one of them being equal representation.

So, in starting to think about feminism as a movement that people see as losing, or unnecessary, or losing relevance, I started to think, "At what point does this become a movement that requires violence? And what does that violence look like? What could that look like? And who would we take it out on?" Because the other thing about Girl Dinner is this is not a book that hates men. I'm married to a man. I have a son. It is important to me that this is a book that hates the patriarchy, not a book that hates men. I wanted there to be this question of, “Yes, we're asking the question, what is a good woman? What does it take for a woman to win in this world?” But also, “What is a good man? What does it mean for men? What role are men then assigned to if this is what we want?”

I guess it was kind of a fun mental exercise of, "Okay, we as a world, as a collective of women, are going to choose someone as a sacrifice, who would it be? Who do we choose?” In the House they're making the argument, because this is a wellness ritual gone wrong, basically, they're choosing between, "Do we want a young, rich, privileged man so that we can absorb that youth, wealth and privilege. Is that really what we want? Or do we want to go for the person who has done us the most harm? Do we want to go for these older men who have blood on their hands?" And in that case, the violence is for the sake of violence. It's retribution. So, I'm having these bigger arguments of like, "What do we want? Who is the enemy? Who are we identifying as the villain when it comes to feminism? And how does that serve us?" And then putting that into this little microcosm of, "Who are we literally going to eat for dinner?" It was fun to have that argument, on a variety of levels.

AM: To that end, no spoilers here, but the ending is a gut punch, and without giving anything away, I'm curious about what you wanted to emphasize, not only about womanhood but how we are forced to consume—to eat or be eaten—as the narrative rationalizes. In this uncertain moment we're living through, how do you feel about the future of feminism? Where do we go from here? And what role does fiction play in helping us make sense of it all?

OB: I definitely think the great role that fiction plays is teaching us empathy, expanding our capability to see other perspectives. The ending of Girl Dinner, really what makes it such a gut punch, is that it didn't have to be this way. I think I want the reader to walk away with that feeling of, "It didn't have to be this way. We could've all made a different choice.” And to kind of arrive, in reality, with the sense of, "We can make a different choice." Basically, if your feminism is not intersectional, if your feminine excludes on the basis of literally anything, if it does not include women of color, disabled women, trans women, queer women, if it doesn't include everyone, not only will it fail, it probably isn't feminism.

You don't get to use your own pain as an excuse to isolate yourself from the problems of others. I think that was sort of the overall point, is that it does not have to be like this. We could not rely on other people, men specifically, for power. We can make other choices. I say I'm burying the medicine, I also recognize probably not a lot of truly conservative women are coming to this book. But at the same time, I think there are a lot of liberal performances that we give, things that are acceptable opinions to have, some things that are still sort of scandalous to us. So, I think this was a moment to really ask, “What are we doing? And what power is it really giving us? And what resources actually matter?”

AM: Right. And that narrative is brought to life not only through Nina and Sloane but from this cast of complex characters. I mean, despite its very juicy, compelling plot and the hook of cannibalism, the key strength of the novel really lies in how character-driven it is. And nodding to what you mentioned earlier, looming large throughout the novel is the not-quite-what-she-seems Carolyn Collins, a tradwife influencer and self-described hypocrite with dubious views on power and accountability, who is hiding some dark secrets of her own. How did you go about creating this character, crafting her lens on the world, and kind of exploring that content economy that she participates in?

OB: I was a little bit inspired by the Brooding newsletter from The Cut that's written by Kathryn Jezer-Morton. She did one specifically about, I think it was called “Are Tradwives Sinister or Just Stupid?” And one of the things that she says in her newsletter is that it appears that tradwives are talking to other women, but when you really look into the data, it's mostly men that are consuming these videos. Like, this is just straight-up porn to them, the traditional wife. I just thought, "My goodness, how ridiculous.”

So, when I was writing the tradwife character, the character of Carolyn Collins, whose Instagram is @thecountrywife, there was a few things with her. I believe she's biracial Asian. I have to remember, because I started to say something with her character that I say more and more complicatedly in the next book, Dreamland, where I write about a white-passing Asian woman. It was important to me that she be a specific type of person, specifically that she is performing the hypocrisy on purpose. She understands that this is a way that she can make a living. It's a way that she can make a brand. It's a way that she can cover her tracks for what she's really doing as a person who used to be in the House.

It is an example of one way to be a woman, right? I think a lot of Girl Dinner is me being as sympathetic as I possibly can to every type of woman. I understand if you enjoy performing your femininity in any way, that is fair. The problem for me is always in, what is it driving? Are you giving power to other women? Or are you on some level taking it away? So, she was a character that I really enjoyed writing, especially because of her contrast to Alex, who is the advisor. Alex and Carolyn, without getting into it, they have a very interesting, I think it's quite a juicy relationship, which is hard for me because I love giving people perspectives. If I had all the time in the world for this book, if I wrote it like I normally do with my fantasy novels, then Alex and Carolyn would also get perspective chapters. Instead, you just get little glimpses of their mindset.

But I hope you find it as interesting as I do that they are such an interesting contrast, because they know and they hold the same truth. They observe the world in the same way, they observe the same things to be true, and they choose completely different resources to enact their ends. I think they were just a way for me to look at, "Here are other types of women you could be for similar reasons, with a similar mindset, and here's what it could look like." But also, Carolyn is just an incredibly funny character.

AM: I mean, that scene where they're verbally sparring in Carolyn's kitchen is just so delicious.

OB: Yes, I love that scene.

AM: It's so great. As you mentioned earlier, Girl Dinner is not the only book you've released this year. April's Gifted & Talented was also a big hit. So, you're extraordinarily prolific. I'm sure our listeners will want to know what your process looks like for ideating, plotting, and penning so many fan favorites.

OB: Oh, gosh. What does it look like? I don't know. Part of it is that I really love to write. I'm one of those, I think I'm more like a Stephen King that has to write, whatever it is, 4,000 or 5,000 words a day. That's kind of my mindset. I have a mood disorder, I'm bipolar. Creative work is kind of how I manage it. It's one of the things that I do on purpose. I set time aside every day to write, which is honestly a reward for everything else I have to do.

I do what is most interesting to me. I think that there was a moment after The Atlas Six went viral, through truly no actual work of my own. People always ask me how I promoted it, but I was really not on the internet at the time. I was pregnant, I've never been interested in promotion, really. It's something that I leave others to do for the most part. And it does create a little bit of an imposter syndrome that's just like, “If all of this was just given to me—if TikTok giveth, then TikTok can taketh away." It was a little scary at first to operate under that understanding of like, “Maybe there's something conditional here." And then I realized I had to just throw that out and write what was interesting to me. If there's one thing that I did on purpose in The Atlas Six it was write what was most interesting to me, regardless of whether it was interesting to other people. I just have to make the assumption that the art that I want to make will speak to someone, and just hope that that gamble pays off.

"I want to be a new person at the end of the book. I want to have thought about something in a way I've never seen it before, and now I'll never see it another way."

So, certainly these are interesting times, and I do see it on some level as a responsibility. I'm not an escapist kind of person. When I read, and I do love to read, I do love books, what I'm looking for is that I want to be a new person at the end of the book. I want to have thought about something in a way I've never seen it before, and now I'll never see it another way. I want to be a different person after I finish a book. I think that's the approach that I bring to all my books as well. It's just like, "I want to go through something. I want to metamorphosize here." Which is not practical information, but for anyone who wants to know, I recommend setting a 10-minute timer every day, because you'll probably keep going, but even if you don't, you wrote for 10 minutes.

AM: It's funny that you mentioned Stephen King because one of his biggest pieces of advice on writing is just to read, read, read, and it sounds like you are a pretty voracious reader yourself. Are there any books that you've enjoyed this year that you would recommend?

OB: Oh, yeah, plenty. I think that it's Eunice Wong who narrated Gifted & Talented, and I think she also narrated Flashlight by Susan Choi, which is the last book I read. It was excellent. So, certainly I recommend that. Daniel Henning, who narrates TJ Klune's books, also has done some narration for me as well, and he's excellent. I think Steve West/Shane East needs no introduction. We just had a funny moment where I work with an illustrator on our graphic series, Clara & the Devil and Little Chmura and I were creating this trailer for the cover reveal, and she's like, "We need a really hot voice to say, 'Hello, Clara,'" which are the opening words from the Devil to Clara. I was like, "I've got it, I've got it. I will contact Steve West. BRB." And it was just really funny because he sent us this track of multiple attempts, and one of them was so unexpected, I think my heart just dropped into my vagina [laughs]. Anyway, hopefully that's acceptable to Audible listeners. So, Steve West, he did Masters of Death. He's great.

AM: I thought it would be fun to wrap up our interview by borrowing a question that my colleague Patty asks authors in all her interviews. If the two leads of Girl Dinner, Sloane and Nina, were each to recommend a book of their own, what would those books be?

OB: Oh, my gosh, what a good question. I think for Sloane it would be Nightbitch by Rachel Yoder.

AM: Great book.

OB: No, incredible book. Incredible book. I love Nightbitch. I think it's so funny. I also give it to all my friends who are—this is going to sound really weird—I give it to my friends who are really tired, or young moms who are also in marriages where the husband is not doing very much but they're specifically not saying anything about it. I give them Nightbitch because I'm like, "This marriage is going to work out." In my head, I'm like, "This marriage is going to work out because she says something."

AM: It's like, this is actually an inspirational, motivational text for you.

OB: Yeah, yeah, this is a self-help book, actually. I would not give them All Fours. I think that would upset them. That's too much, that's too far, they're not ready. And then Nina, I think I can see Nina being really, really enamored of R.F. Kuang's work, but for Nina, I'm going to say Bunny by Mona Awad. I think Bunny is just a seminal outsider text. Also, what I think is so fascinating about it is the way that it does dark academia but in a specifically feminine way. Like, it contends with feminine power, and it's so fascinating. We Love You, Bunny, the new one that is both a prequel and a sequel and a Frankenstein retelling, is just genius.

AM: And they're both also just phenomenal comps to Girl Dinner.

OB: Yes, it's true, it's true. Look what I've done there.

AM: If you're looking for dessert, listeners, you know what to queue up next.

OB: Absolutely.

AM: Olivie, thank you so much for your time today. I've really enjoyed our conversation.

OB: Thank you. This was a fantastic interview. I really enjoyed it. Thank you so much.

AM: And listeners, you can get Girl Dinner on Audible now.