Why I Love Nora Ephron

Nora Ephron was my biggest girl crush. My biggest influence and inspiration as a writer. You know that New York Times feature, “By the Book,” in which writers are asked who would be invited to their fantasy dinner parties? Well, Nora would definitely have a seat at my imaginary table. Like her, I started out as a journalist, and when I turned to fiction, I began by writing romantic comedies. I’ve been following Ephron’s career since I read Crazy Salad in college. Heartburn has a special place on my bookshelf, (and I still hate Carl Bernstein). This past Mother’s Day, my sons hit it out of the park with their gift: a signed first edition of Ephron’s essays. I keep it in my office, over my desk. Just looking at the cover makes me happy.

Ephron is the kind of writer who makes you feel as though you know her; it’s that unmistakable voice—smart and funny and loud, unafraid to be both feminist and feminine. As a writer for Esquire, she held her own with the big boys, but also understood the power of a good meal—or a good hair cut, for that matter.       

In so much of her work, she tells the often uncomfortable truths about what women think and feel—open up to any page of I Feel Bad About My Neck; watch the scene in Sleepless when Rosie O’Donnell tells Meg Ryan: “You don’t want love. You want movie love.” (Damn right, Nora.)

 But we also want our place in the world, a theme Ephron explored in Julie and Julia, in which a young writer, Julie Powell, realizes her dream through the inspiration of the more famous and successful woman, Julia Child. A bit like Nora and me. . .