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Through meticulous consideration of marital property rights, the development of feminist thought, and the portrayal of remarriage in Hollywood films, Mlotek is able to puzzle out how an entire generation has, she writes, “inherited a profound question of what divorce should be, who it is for, and why the institution of marriage maintains its power.”�� ��

Mlotek’s writing has appeared in the New York Times Magazine, The New Yorker, The Nation and Bookforum.��

What did you last read and what made you read it?

I finished a biography of John Berger by Joshua Sperling,��“A Writer of Our Time,” which I loved. John Berger has long been one of my favourite writers, but I’ve been far from a completist when it comes to reading the full scope of his work; I’m particularly lacking in reading his fiction, and I had already decided that for 2025, I wanted to read all the John Berger books I haven’t already.

I find him to be such a humane writer — so cerebral and warm, and with such an incredible sense for ... understanding the meaning of what we see and experience. It was a real pleasure to read Sperling’s overview of Berger’s writing career and see just how much he was able to accomplish in his life.

What book would your readers be shocked to find in your collection?

I think they would be shocked to find exactly all the books one might expect from a person of my age, experience, interests, etc.; there are very few surprises to me.

When was the last time you devoured a book in one, or very few, sittings?

My friend and co-editor at AFM (magazine), Maria Dimitrova, gave me a few of her favourite collections of plays as the most thoughtful and exciting Christmas gift. We saw a few plays together at the end of last year, and I had mentioned there were some gaps, to put it mildly, in my understanding of theatre. I started with a collection of Ibsen plays over the holidays, and read all the hits — “Ghosts”��and “Master Builder” — in one very peaceful day.

Who’s the one author or what’s the one book you’ll never understand, despite the praise?

Nice try! I will be saving the answer for only my most trustworthy group chats.

What’s the one book that has not garnered the success that it deserves?

There must be so, so many, and still some that I haven’t even found yet. One name that comes to mind is Diana Athill, who I read for the first time last year just coincidentally — one of her books looked interesting on a visit to Unnameable Books in Brooklyn, and I basically fell in love with her from the first page I flipped open.

I’ve since tracked down most of her other books and read them all, and particularly love her memoirs about being an editor. It’s usually a rare moment when an editor gets the attention and recognition they deserve for their work, and so I love her writing for that, but also her stories about growing up, falling in love, being heartbroken, discovering writers, publishing the books she believes are incredibly sweet, funny, smart and stylish.

What book would you give anything to read again for the first time?

The experience of reading Henry James’s “The Portrait of a Lady” for the first time was, all hyperbole intended, transcendent. I was gripping the pages like my life depended on it.

When you were 10 years old, what was your favourite book?

I was obsessed with ” Completely, totally, absolutely obsessed. This was probably an early warning sign of some sorts, but at least it eventually led me to “Wide Sargasso Sea” and Jean Rhys.

What fictional character would you like to be friends with?

I think Celia Brooke from “Middlemarch” and I would have a lot to talk about. I just really see where she’s coming from most of the time.

Do you have a comfort read that you revisit?

With the above in mind, it’s probably obvious that I consider to be such a comfort read it’s practically medicinal. I just reread it with some friends, which added an extra layer of soothing calm to the whole experience — it’s so nice to be able to talk about the stories and characters with other people in the moment of reading.

On this revisit, I noticed that when I caught myself slipping into a bad or sad mood, I would pick up a chapter of “Middlemarch” like it was an antidepressant, and I swear, it really does have that pharmaceutical effect on me.��

What was the last book that made you laugh or cry?

Tony Tulathimutte’s “Rejection” made me choke on something that was neither laughter nor tears, but was probably in the closest proximity to those emotions. I found it such a viscerally physical read, so hilarious it verged on the hysterical in the old-timey medical sense. The whole thing felt like a panic attack. This is a very high compliment.

What is the one book you wish you had written?

I am immensely in awe of and constantly inspired by about love and pain in all kinds of relationships, particularly when it comes to the simplicity of her sentences and how much depth they can contain in so few words. If I was capable of writing “The Story of a New Name,” I would die happy.

What three authors living or dead would you like to have a coffee with?

Isabella Hammad, Grace Paley and Edith Wharton.

What does your definition of personal literary success look like?

I think writers deserve to have their material needs met in a way that gives them both the time and space to think and work, as well as the ability to truly rest on a regular basis. I feel the same way about a community to support our work and our efforts. When we have editors that challenge us to do better and make us excited to sit at our desks, attentive readers who are generous with their time, and partners and friends who love and support us in work and life, that’s all a form of success.

When I was a kid, I always thought that the thing that would make me feel happiest and most at peace with the conditions of my life was a wall full of books. Now that I have a wall full of books, I’d like to go back in time and tell little me she was really on to something.