See that word, standing tall in the title like a lightning rod for feminist anger everywhere? That word is “fat.” And in the kind of world I’d like to live in – one where people saw my triathlon-completing, still-chubby wife and shout, “You go, girl!” – “fat” would be as neutral a descriptive term as “tall” or “bearded.”

But it isn’t. And partially as a result of the word “fat” getting weaponized as it is, you don’t see that many chunky women as heroes in books. Which I thought was a shame – I go to conventions, and I know a lot of really kick-ass fat women who are totally comfortable with their bodies, are whip-smart conversationalists, and have developed an active disdain for what you think because they’re happy. There’s a certain flavor of well-worn cockiness that only comes from having decided, against all of society’s expectations, that you are so goddamned pretty that people should feel happy to meet you. I wanted that in my book Flex. Continue reading →