Hitting All the Right Notes
Jennifer Weiner’s latest novel explores the grit and glamor of pop music in the 1990s.
When Jennifer Weiner was starting her career as a fiction writer, she noticed that so many novels about young women were set in either New York, Los Angeles, or London. Her hometown of Philadelphia, however, was largely relegated to the sidelines.
Weiner, who has since become a bestselling novelist, believes the City of Brotherly Love is tailor made for fictional drama, in part because it has “so much character.” Perhaps that’s why she chose to set her latest book, The Griffin Sisters’ Greatest Hits, in and around 1990s Philadelphia. Released on April 8, the novel tells the story of the complicated lives of two working-class sisters, the tragedy that divides them, and the power of love and forgiveness, all set within the glamorous and gritty world of pop music.
We spoke with Weiner about her inspiration for Griffin Sisters, how she learned the secrets of the music industry, and why bike riding and piano playing may very well be a solution to writer’s block.
Q&A
Where did the spark for Griffin Sisters come from?
My husband and I were on vacation in Alaska, and in Alaska, you hear lots of people who seem to have had previous versions of their lives [or] left some other version of themselves back in the upper 50. I started to think about a woman who was running Airbnbs in a way that she never had to actually see anybody. I could picture this woman, see her trudging around, carrying a bucket of cleaning supplies, with this giant parka with the hood pulled up all the way. I thought: OK, who is she? How did she get here? What happened to her to make her this way? What is she? What is she running from? And that became Cassie.
Where did the spark for Griffin Sisters come from?
My husband and I were on vacation in Alaska, and in Alaska, you hear lots of people who seem to have had previous versions of their lives [or] left some other version of themselves back in the upper 50. I started to think about a woman who was running Airbnbs in a way that she never had to actually see anybody. I could picture this woman, see her trudging around, carrying a bucket of cleaning supplies, with this giant parka with the hood pulled up all the way. I thought: OK, who is she? How did she get here? What happened to her to make her this way? What is she? What is she running from? And that became Cassie.
One of the things that I really found fascinating about the book was this behind-the-scenes view of the music industry, both now and how it has been in the past. What kind of research did you do to get that level of authenticity?
I have a friend who’s a record label executive in L.A. who started her career in the early aughts, and she walked me through how you would break an artist out in the days of terrestrial radio, before the streaming platforms became the thing. She was the one who took Sara Bareilles around the Midwest in a rented car and walked her from radio station to radio station and had her play basically tiny desk concerts. I had not known about any of that. I just thought: You just make a record and put it out there. And she responded, “My sweet summer child.” Also, my friend Lucy Kaplansky is a singer-songwriter in the folk world who taught me about songwriting and lyrics and performing. Then I talked for a while to Diana DeGarmo, who was an early American Idol contestant. The funniest thing she told me was they shoot auditions over, like, two or three days, but they make it look like it’s all happening in one day, which means you can’t change your clothes.
I have a friend who’s a record label executive in L.A. who started her career in the early aughts, and she walked me through how you would break an artist out in the days of terrestrial radio, before the streaming platforms became the thing. She was the one who took Sara Bareilles around the Midwest in a rented car and walked her from radio station to radio station and had her play basically tiny desk concerts. I had not known about any of that. I just thought: You just make a record and put it out there. And she responded, “My sweet summer child.” Also, my friend Lucy Kaplansky is a singer-songwriter in the folk world who taught me about songwriting and lyrics and performing. Then I talked for a while to Diana DeGarmo, who was an early American Idol contestant. The funniest thing she told me was they shoot auditions over, like, two or three days, but they make it look like it’s all happening in one day, which means you can’t change your clothes.
My favorite character in the Griffin Sisters is Cassie, the sister with an enormous talent who finds it difficult to fit into the image-driven arena of pop music. What are your thoughts on the treatment of plus-size artists, within and outside of the music industry?
When I wrote Cassie, I was thinking a lot about Carnie Wilson of Wilson Phillips, and who was, let’s just say for the record, not that big, right? And the people who did her videos and album covers, they treated her like her body was so offensive that if we got a good look at her head to toe, we’d die. They were hiding her behind grand pianos and rock formations. ... I also thought about Mama Cass from the Mamas & the Papas, who really was ahead of her time in terms of somebody who was living comfortably and joyfully in a larger body. Of course, by the time I was old enough to be aware of her, she was a punchline. So I had this impulse to reclaim some of these women and stories and recenter the women who’d been pushed to the sidelines.
When I wrote Cassie, I was thinking a lot about Carnie Wilson of Wilson Phillips, and who was, let’s just say for the record, not that big, right? And the people who did her videos and album covers, they treated her like her body was so offensive that if we got a good look at her head to toe, we’d die. They were hiding her behind grand pianos and rock formations. ... I also thought about Mama Cass from the Mamas & the Papas, who really was ahead of her time in terms of somebody who was living comfortably and joyfully in a larger body. Of course, by the time I was old enough to be aware of her, she was a punchline. So I had this impulse to reclaim some of these women and stories and recenter the women who’d been pushed to the sidelines.
You’re a musician yourself, correct?
(Laughing) I would not say that! I take piano lessons, and I try very, very hard. When I’m writing, I can sit down at a keyboard at my computer and just let the words just come. When I sit down at the piano, I’ve got to fight for every note.
(Laughing) I would not say that! I take piano lessons, and I try very, very hard. When I’m writing, I can sit down at a keyboard at my computer and just let the words just come. When I sit down at the piano, I’ve got to fight for every note.
If you could perform with any musician, past or present, who would it be?
My dream would be to be Tina Turner’s backup singer. Or just play the piano really well. But even though I am where natural [musical] aptitude went to die, I do it because I want my daughters seeing me do something—even if you’re not great at it—just for my own pleasure.
My dream would be to be Tina Turner’s backup singer. Or just play the piano really well. But even though I am where natural [musical] aptitude went to die, I do it because I want my daughters seeing me do something—even if you’re not great at it—just for my own pleasure.
Photo by Andrea Cipriani Mecchi
Published (and copyrighted) in Suburban Life magazine, April 2025.
