This week’s installment of Ten Questions features Katie Yee, whose debut novel, Maggie; Or, A Man and a Woman Walk Into a Bar, is out today from Summit Books. The novel opens as a man and a woman walk into a restaurant. The woman expects a lovely date night. Instead, she finds out her husband is having an affair with a woman named Maggie. Soon after, her chest starts to ache. She walks into an examination room, where she finds out the pain in her breast isn’t just heartbreak—it’s cancer. She decides to name the tumor Maggie. Unraveling in fragments over the course of the following months, Maggie; Or, A Man and a Woman Walk Into a Bar follows the narrator as she embarks on a journey of grief, healing, and reclamation. With defiant humor, she starts talking to Maggie (the tumor), getting acquainted with her body’s new inhabitant. She creates a “Guide to My Husband: A User’s Manual” for Maggie (the other woman), hoping to facilitate the process of discovering her ex-husband’s whims and quirks. She transforms her children’s bedtime stories into retellings of Chinese folklore passed down by her own mother, in an attempt to make them fall in love with their shared culture—and to possibly save herself in the process. In a starred review, Kirkus Reviews called the book a “light and nimble debut novel about some of life’s most devastating events” that “crackles with heartfelt intelligence and wit.” New York magazine agreed, calling Yee’s debut a “hilarious and life-affirming spin on the divorce novel.” Katie Yee is a writer from Brooklyn, New York. She has received fellowships from the Center for Fiction, the Asian American Writers’ Workshop, and Kundiman. Her work has appeared in the Los Angeles Review of Books, the Believer, the Washington Square Review, and Literary Hub. By day she works at the Brooklyn Museum; by night she writes, usually under the watch of her judgmental rescue dog, Ollie.
Katie Yee, author of Maggie; or, A Man and a Woman Walk Into a Bar. (Credit: Roque Nonini)
1. How long did it take you to write Maggie; Or, A Man and a Woman Walk Into a Bar?
Five years, give or take. Maggie started as a short story that I just kept returning to.
2. What was the most challenging thing about writing the book?
I grew up in the short story, so it took me a while to get used to writing long. Most of the edits I got back were along the lines of “Can we stay in this scene a beat longer?” which was so helpful! Relatedly, keeping track of time was a new challenge for me; I’d never written something that took place over many months with so many moving parts that have to be grounded in a real timeline, like kids’ school schedules and hospital screenings. I had to have Post-its over my desk with things like “End of June: last day of school” and “Follow up appointment #3: two weeks later.” It became a bit of a logic puzzle.
3. Where, when, and how often do you write?
I’m not a terribly disciplined writer (or person), so I write when the mood strikes. It’s pretty much always at night, though, after my boyfriend has gone to bed: The hours between 10 PM and 1 AM are all mine. The lateness of the hour also means that I always write at home, at my desk. I bought it when I was twenty-two and moving out of my parents’ house. I remember falling in love with it in the IKEA showroom, promising myself that I would write my first book at this desk. (Mission accomplished!)
4. What are you reading right now?
Jemimah Wei’s The Original Daughter (Doubleday, 2025); it’s beautifully filling the void that Elena Ferrante’s My Brilliant Friend (Europa Editions, 2012) left in my life. I can’t put it down! Also Marie-Helene Bertino’s Exit Zero (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2025), which is reminding me how much I love short stories as a form; each one in this collection is weird, haunted, wonderful.
5. Which author, in your opinion, deserves wider recognition?
Translators! I have a hard enough time capturing the specifics of feeling in the one language I know, but the fact that they can absorb it in one language and alchemize it into another is nothing short of magic. I’ve been reading some real international bangers this year, which would not be possible without their work: Solvej Balle’s On the Calculation of Volume (New Directions, 2024), translated from the Danish by Barbara Haveland; Ariane Koch’s Overstaying (Dorothy, a publishing project, 2024), translated from the German by Damion Searls; Vigdis Hjorth’s If Only (Verso Fiction, 2024), translated from the Norwegian by Charlotte Barslund; and Han Kang’s Greek Lessons (Hogarth, 2023), translated from the Korean by Deborah Smith and Emily Yae Won—to name a few!
6. What is the biggest impediment to your writing life?
The kitchen. It’s the ultimate distraction. There are always more snacks to eat and more coffee stains on the counter that you missed when you were wiping it down an hour ago, somehow. Next thing you know, it’s been twenty minutes and all you’ve done is eat cheese balls over the sink and make another tiny mess that you can now procrastinate with. It’s a vicious cycle!
7. What is one thing that your agent or editor told you during the process of publishing this book that stuck with you?
The day I sold this book, my family got some devastating news; I had relayed this to my agent, Duvall Osteen, and to the Summit team to explain any delays in response for a few weeks. It’s not so much one specific thing Duvall said but the constancy of her care that stuck with me, in the form of adorable dog photos and recommendations and check-in texts; they were a lifeline. Similarly, my first-ever e-mail from my phenomenal editor, Judy Clain, read: “No need to worry about anything, ever. We will be there.” It’s been true again and again. People keep asking me if I’m nervous about the book coming out—I’m not, really. And that’s solely because of the team that I get to work with.
8. If you could go back in time and talk to the earlier you, before you started Maggie; Or, A Man and a Woman Walk Into a Bar, what would you say?
I want to say something really wise about taking your time, because there really is something special about it being just you and the story no one knows yet. (I know, I know; I never believed it when other writers told me that, either!)
But if I’m being honest, my first thought was: Write faster. My grandmother, Lily (who one of the characters is named after), died a few months ago, and had I finished it just a touch sooner, she might’ve been able to go into a bookstore and buy it. This was her wish; she was very insistent that she did NOT want a free copy. My grandma, like many Asian grandmas, loved a deal and was really good at haggling, so this was high praise. I think every writer carries with them someone they wish they could’ve told all their stories to.
9. Outside of writing, what other forms of work were essential to the creation of Maggie; Or, A Man and a Woman Walk Into a Bar?
Yapping! So much of writing this book looked like sitting across the table from my mom at the neighborhood diner. (What Maxine Hong Kingston calls “talk-stories.”) We talked about myths—ones I had misremembered, ones I had never heard before that my mom pulled seemingly out of nowhere like a sweet treat from her purse. They all made their way into the book eventually. We talked about motherhood and my childhood, and I think we were both surprised at how much the other remembers. Much less fun, but also vital: We talked about cancer, which runs in my family. We talked about treatments and timelines. Of course, I did some of my own research, too, but the personal anecdotes—getting not just the fact but also the feeling—were essential.
10. What’s the best piece of writing advice you’ve ever heard?
Nora Ephron: “Everything is copy.”
Adam Levin: “Ask something braver.”
Becky Godwin, my college professor: “The best writing happens twenty minutes after you don’t leave the room.”
Glen Powell in Twisters: “If you feel it, chase it.” (This was more about tornados, and also love, but I think it applies here, too.)
