A successful relationship is at ease with the heavy and the light. I wanted to explore how Lanie and Noa(h) can have a stimulating intellectual argument one moment, burst out laughing the next, and share each other’s grief in the third.

The idea of revision is also at the heart of their romance. I think for many relationships, when one or both people change, it can feel scary, undesired. But as a writer and an editor, Lanie and Noa(h) understand what’s beautiful about change. They don’t expect each other to stay the same as they were in the first draft. They welcome the different versions each of them will become.

Have you ever experienced writer’s block like Noa? If so, how did you overcome it?

I’ve never not experienced writer’s block, but my most profound confrontation with it came after my daughter was born. I remember driving in my car, listening to a story on the radio about a beekeeper, and weeping because I wished I could just be a beekeeper. Writing felt impossible that day. I see now that 70 percent of that was sleep deprivation, but the other 30 percent was struggling to acknowledge that I had become a new person when I became a mother.

I think this is similar to Noa(h)’s traumatic experiences. When a writer goes through a shift that apocalyptic, it can feel like you suddenly have to learn to write all over again.

Is there a certain trope in romance books that you just can’t get enough of? Maybe even a guilty pleasure that never gets old?

The build-up to the first kiss always thrills me, the emotional foreplay of establishing chemistry with another person, and then seeing how long you can stretch it out before you get together. (The longer the better.) I still think about my extended flirtation with my husband—all the enchanting obstacles in our way, how we knocked them down month by month, one karaoke night or creekside stroll at a time, until eventually it was just the two of us in front of a fireplace, leaning in for a kiss.

Lanie’s dream is to travel to Positano, Italy. Have you ever been there, or is there a dream destination you’re excited to visit in the future?

Positano was the site of my spectacular breakup—and in an early draft of the book, it was the site of Lanie’s breakup, too. When I cleared away this failed relationship from this story, there was space for Positano to take on a deeper meaning—for her mother, her career, and Noa(h).

What would you like readers to take away from By Any Other Name?