Dear all, here comes a bit of a fangirl moment: I absolutely love Vera Zischke as an author. And if you haven’t read her debut novel „Ava liebt noch“ , you really MUST read it, because there’s no sugar-coating here – just the completely authentic, relatable everyday life of a mother of three, which culminates in a sweeping romance with her daughter’s much younger swimming instructor, after Ava has felt overlooked for years in her seemingly perfect marriage.
A dream of a book, really. But Vera wouldn’t be Vera if she, who has children of her own and works as a newspaper editor, didn’t keep writing late into the night. And so her second book is actually now on the market… and guys! It’s got another brilliant title and a brilliant cover AND such a particularly important story.
It’s called „Pina falls out“ and Pina is a mum, too. And a rather isolated one at that. She looks after and supports her autistic son entirely on her own, and at some point… she breaks down. Who will look after him when she can no longer do so? What happens to the community around her when there is suddenly someone who needs help, but is completely different from everyone else? It turns into a colourful roundelay of neighbourhood help, that much I’ll reveal, and by the end it becomes clear: every single person enriches our society. The quirkier, the better…
Dear Vera, with *Ava liebt noch* you’ve struck a chord with sooo many mums. A mother of three with an okay marriage, where everyday life functions rather than love reigns, falls for her daughter’s much younger swimming instructor… and suddenly all her spirits are reawakened. She feels seen, desired, back in the game… where did that come from?
When I wrote Ava, I was sitting at home with three children, had a dreadful job, nobody took me seriously as a part-time mum, and when I dared to speak out loud about my struggle with external control as a mother, someone said to me: ‘You chose this, didn’t you?’ And I thought: I chose my children, yes. But I certainly didn’t choose to disappear completely into this role of mother. I wrote my way to freedom with “Ava still loves” and made myself visible again.
What came first for you: the idea of showing just how lonely such a functional family unit can be, and what a few butterflies can bring aboutor were Ava and Kiran with their forbidden love there first?
I wanted a gripping love story with an exhausted mother of three in the lead role, which begins at a bloody nappy shelf. I was rather laughed at by a few publishers for this, but I firmly believed that there are lots of women out there like Ava who think: finally, someone sees me. Fortunately, my editor at Ullstein saw it the same way.
Did you fall a bit in love with Kieran yourself whilst writing, as many readers did, or did you fall for this sizzling parallel world that ultimately gave Ava so much energy for everything else again?
Of course I fell for Kieran, and how. I wrote through the night because I had to know for myself what would happen to him next.
Ava meets Kieran in a chemist’s, between the nappy shelves, looking a bit of a scruffy mess. Just what you look like when you’ve only popped in for some new Pampers… this authenticity is surprising – and makes it easy to relate to. Was that planned, or did it just happen that way?
I wanted to describe a mother’s everyday life as authentically as possible. Back then, I’d often find myself standing in my own kitchen thinking I’d crumble to dust if I emptied the dishwasher just one more time. Above all, however, I couldn’t find this world in literature at the time. Back then, ‘mental load’ was something coaches discussed on Instagram. But I didn’t want a three-point guide to more self-care; I wanted an artistic exploration of this sometimes rather bizarre everyday life.
The reader feels Kieran’s longing from the very first moment. “That can’t be made up,” you find yourself thinking… What does your husband say about the fact that it all seems so real, as if you’d experienced something like this yourself?
That’s a funny question, because unlike everyone else, my husband doesn’t have to wonder what’s real and what’s made up. And as an author, you don’t think about your material in that way either. I write the story the way it needs to be written to find out what I want to find out. And my question was: how much freedom can a mother allow herself?
I’m sorry to have to say this, but Kieran is fictional. Unfortunately, he doesn’t exist; I can’t give you his phone number. To me, however, Ava and Kieran are fully-fledged characters, and sometimes I long to sit down with them in the kitchen and have a glass of wine with Ava whilst Kieran cooks spaghetti carbonara.
What a shame 😉 But: Now you’ve brought out another book, another lovely cover, another book about motherhood in the broadest sense. It’s called: Pina’s Off. And the title alone actually explains it all: everything that weighs on us mothers and what actually happens when things don’t quite work out anymore…
That’s right, I’m not just a mother of three like Ava, I’m also a carer like Pina. So it began once again with the realisation that there’s no mother like this as the main character of a novel.
Pina has an autistic son and at some point simply collapses and ends up in a coma. I think I can reveal that much. Who will now look after him, a boy who barely speaks and needs rituals?
I spent two years tinkering with this novel, trying to describe the daily life of a mother caring for a severely autistic son. But something wasn’t right. I had the feeling that I couldn’t really evoke what I wanted to evoke. And then the realisation struck me like a bolt of lightning. If I really want to make this world tangible, I have to take the mother out of the picture. What happens then? Who looks after him?
It has become a book about community, about a household that steps in and in which every (in their own way quirky) person benefits differently from the young autistic man. Not romanticised, but eye-opening and, once again: so full of life…
I think we’ve become a bit rusty when it comes to forming communities. We’ve all become so independent of one another through technology and service providers, and we don’t want to be a burden to others. But we are social beings; we need one another one way or another. And we can learn so incredibly much from people like Leo, who stand at cross-purposes with our meritocracy.
Last but not least: where do the stories come from? Do they just come to you, or is it hard and sometimes agonising night work?
It’s always a miserable rummage. Seriously, why am I doing this to myself? I’ve just scrapped 230 pages of my third novel and started from scratch. But the feeling of having finally written my way to the heart of what I want to tell is beyond compare. So the suffering is worth it, and every discarded line was, in the end, a pebble on the yellow brick road to the goal.
One last word of encouragement for all the mums out there:
You’re doing a great job! You’re enough! Your motherhood is your own personal journey. Shape it in a way that works for you and your family. And yes, ice cream is a meal!
