Tradwives have gone from fringe curiosity to full-blown cultural phenomenon, and the publishing industry has noticed. There’s now a whole shelf of novels trying to make sense of these women, and I’ve spent the past few months reading many of them, trying to understand what they are trying to say about our culture.

That’s how I came across Elizabeth Richardson’s serialized novel TRAD, published right here on Substack. After reading a few chapters, I was hooked!! So, I did the only thing I could do at that point and DMed her for an ARC. She generously sent me an early copy, and I devoured it.

TRAD is the rare book that manages to seamlessly merge searing commentary and fast-paced, entertaining prose. It’s funny, sharp, and genuinely unsettling (but I don’t want to give any spoilers. Just trust me - Hannah is unhinged in a way that feels like the best, best parts of reality TV).

When I finally surfaced, I asked her the question I couldn’t shake: how much of this is based on your real life? Her answer wasn’t what I expected, and it kicked off a conversation so good I asked if she’d write it down for all of you. So I’m handing the page over to Elizabeth to tell you herself.

Two years ago on Twitter, a woman who went by the name Patriarchy Hannah and claimed to be a submissive, chronically ill stay-at-home-mom with 11 kids was found out to actually be a single woman living in Arkansas. I watched it all unfold in real-time, texting my agent who was similarly following along.

The seeds of inspiration for TRAD were sown. What would motivate someone to do this? How did it start? Did she go into it intending to trick people, or were her intentions good and it all spiraled out of control? These were all things I wanted to explore when I sat down to write. But I didn’t just want it to be a book about a scammer. I wanted to go deeper, to look at both influencer and evangelical culture in tandem.

And I knew I was especially equipped to take it on.

One question that comes up a lot in the comment sections of many chapters of TRAD, as well as in the privacy of my social media DMs, is: how autobiographical is the book?

My book about a broke, single woman in New York City who pretends to be a trad wife online and ends up ruining her life is, without a doubt, a work of fiction.

But shows on the pages, I think, to those who have grown up in fundamentalist or fundamentalist-adjacent religions, that I’ve lived in the world I’m describing on the page. After all, like calls to like. Even after you’ve left it all behind, there are certain words and phrases that will trigger an almost-sleeper cell-like reaction.

I’m not sure if someone who wasn’t raised in evangelicalism can research their way into knowing the hand motions of “Every Move I Make I Make, I Make In You,” or the feeling that lingers in your gut when you remember the purity culture talks you got at youth group.

But when it comes to TRAD and how much of Hannah’s experiences and my own are intertwined, the answer is, probably not as much as you’re imagining. So much of writing is mining your own past and traumas for inspiration, trying to decide what you want to reveal and what you want to keep hidden. It’s pulling out memories that were determined to stay in the recesses of your mind until you yanked them from whatever crevice they were hidden in. It’s examining them, examining your past self with distance, looking at her as one might look at a stranger, but with more empathy and grace than you did even ten years ago, because now you realize everything she was then made you what you are now.

To be clear, I did do that here; I very much did, and that, I think, is what people are responding to.

The evangelical religion I grew up in did leave me with stories that leave my friends who were raised without religion slightly horrified, like the time a youth pastor told a group of us middle school girls that because we thought a singer in the Newsboys (a contemporary Christian rock band, for the unaware) was cute, it was like we’d all had sex with him in God’s eyes. Or how during a youth group trip, one of the chaperones described in detail her experience with demons sitting on her chest.

And there were numerous guilt-trip ridden alter calls at camp, conferences, and the random Wednesday nights where we were bidden, over and over, to search our hearts, to be sure that we were saved, to know without a shadow of doubt that if we died that night, we’d go to heaven. Not quite sure? Better confess every bad thing you’ve done, every unsavory thought you’ve ever had, every time your eye wanders a little too far to one of the in-charge grown-ups (were they all background checked in the early 2000s?), just in case, just to cover all of your bases.

Let’s not forget the time a friend took me to his Pentecostal church, where I witnessed the unique experience of watching people speak in tongues, as shown in the documentary Jesus Camp. Even for someone born and raised in Christianity, it was a completely overwhelming sensory experience, too hot, too loud, too crowded. I left it in tears, not able to make any sense of it.

But in no way did I ever leave a high-control religion and run away without my parents knowing. In fact, I have a really great relationship with my parents and my siblings. I never pretended to be a trad wife online (I hope this, at least, is obvious).

The church I attended was standard Midwestern non-denominational, and it had a mishmash of folks, some more liberal than my family, and some more conservative. I did, however, brush up against families who directly inspired Hannah and the world she grew up in.

Deconstruction was a whole different story, one that I’ve told many times, and continues to evolve even now, especially now that I have kids of my own. My childhood and adolescence feel like a Rorschach test depending on who I’m talking to.

There’s a tension to the explanations I give, due to the position we occupied.

My parents had books written by James Dobson, but they also listened to James Taylor.

I wasn’t allowed to wear a bikini to the pool, but I was allowed to wear pretty much anything else as long as my midriff was covered.

I went on mission trips in high school (including one sponsored by Brio Magazine), but I also went to prom.

When I’m talking to people who were raised more conservatively than me, my upbringing comes off secular, worldly, even wild to some. I feel like I wasn’t “traumatized” enough to be able to write about my experiences in a way that makes me a qualified voice

In the opposite direction, when I’m with people who were raised without religion, or even different religions, it seems oppressive, confusing, and downright alien. Here, I find surer footing; I’m more confident that I won’t be called out for misrepresenting an entire religious system, even though I can only claim my own and rely on research for the rest.

But isn’t that what writing is for all writers? Doing as much research as we can and trusting we’ve gotten as much right as we can? The struggle, the way the imagination of it all strains against the real-life experiences, the memories that fuse with the story we’re trying to get out, hoping someone will read it and resonate with it.

Want To Read More?

You can read Elizabeth’s novel TRAD right here on Substack. She releases new chapters twice weekly!

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If any of this stirred something in you - a memory you’d tucked away, a phrase that still makes your stomach drop, a family you grew up next door to - I want to hear it. Tell us in the comments: what did you recognize?

And if you’ve been reading TRAD, we’d love to know where you landed on the same question everyone keeps asking: how much of it did you believe was real?

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Two months ago, I started Elle Reads Library Books with a few dozen readers and a simple hope: that I might find some people who love books the way I do. There are nearly three thousand of you now. Getting to share my reading life with this many people is a dream come true, and is something miserable Elle from a year ago couldn’t have ever imagined.

After a lot of thought, I’ve decided to open memberships on July 1. The free newsletter you already love isn’t going anywhere. The reviews, the wrap-ups, and the themed reading lists will stay free.

Members get access to exclusive, paid-only posts, hidden paid portions of free posts, and extra bonuses like printables and paid-only reading challenges (that we’ll all complete together!).

There’s one more thing membership does, and it matters to me. It helps keep my library open for everyone, including the ones who can’t pay, because members make that possible. The big room stays open to all, always. Membership is the smaller table in the back, where we get to know each other a little better.

To celebrate my new paid tier, I’m offering a crazy deal until Aug 1! You’ll lock in a 60% discount, paying just $1.67/month!! Get access to special paid posts, paid-only printables and challenges, and help me continue creating content like this.

Join for $1.67/mo!

Here’s the whole thing:

Free: Regular new posts: reviews, wrap-ups, and themed reading lists.

Member ($6/month or $50/year): Everything in free, plus extra paid-only posts, just for members. Exclusive access to locked portions of posts and free printables/reading challenges. Your membership also keeps almost everything free for everyone.

Founding Members ($99/year): Everything above + a personalized book flight based on your reading tastes once per year and my undying gratitude for believing in me!

One more thing, for the early ones. Until August 1, members get 60% off their first year, which brings it to $20 per year/$1.66 per month, less than the price of a hardcover for a whole year of great reading.

Thank you for being here at all. It has meant more than I can fit in a subject line.

PS: My next post is a colonial and pre-colonial reading list for America’s 250th, free for everyone but with a printable bonus for paid subscribers.

Thank you for being here at all. It has meant more than I can fit in a subject line.

Unlock 1 year for $20

If you grew up in the 80s or 90s and you’re reading my Substack, it’s got to be one of your core memories. There was no better feeling on earth than walking into Pizza Hut with a little paper certificate and walking out with a personal. pan. pizza.

It was simple, and it was FUN.

I recently came across Sabrina Molu’s note, where she said that she wished we could bring it back for adults, and honestly? Same. So I’m doing it.

Welcome to Read it & Eat: The Summer 2026 Reading Challenge. 9 fun and easy prompts, a community of readers doing it alongside you, and yes, a prize when you finish.

I’ll be doing the challenge right alongside you. Consider this your standing invitation.

Here’s how it works:

The Challenge

The challenge runs from June 1 through August 31. All you need to do to participate in the challenge is read one book for each of the eight prompts on the card, plus one wildcard book of your choosing.

There’s no pressure to read fast or read a lot. There’s no ranking. There’s no right answer for any prompt. The whole point is to genuinely have fun and share our love of reading with each other.

The Prompts

Here are the 9 prompts. Complete them in any order, with any book or audiobook.

Sharing our Reads

This is where it gets fun. Our subscriber chat is open to all subscribers, and that’s where the challenge lives all summer.

Post when you finish a square. Share what you’re reading for each prompt. Ask for recommendations when you’re stuck.

Reading can sometimes feel solitary. This is the version where it gets to feel like a big pizza party we’re all invited to.

The Prize

When you complete all nine squares, post your finished card in the chat. Every subscriber who finishes gets a surprise reward from me. I think you’re going to like it!

Oh, and get yourself a pizza. You earned that!

Track it on Storygraph

I’ve set up an official Read It & Eat challenge on StoryGraph so you can log your progress and see what other readers are picking for each prompt. It’s free to join here.

A Themed Reading List to Get You Started

Stuck on where to begin? Here are some books I’d reach for -- I’ll be sharing my own picks for each square in the chat once we kick off.

A note on links: I’m an advocate for library books, but I also love a good hardcover. If you want to support indie bookstores and my work, consider using the affiliate links in this post. Thank you!

A book set in a place you want to travel

• Pachinko by Min Jin Lee

• The Last Days of the Incas by Kim MacQuarrie

• Death in Sardinia by Marco Vichi

A book under 250 pages

• Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata

• Birthday Girl by Haruki Murakami - This is VERY short. More of a novella? I’m counting it because I love it. It comes as its own book, but it’s hard to find. More commonly found in a collection of short stories called Manga Stories.

• Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh

A book released in 2026

• The Night We Met by Abby Jimenez

• Love by the Book by Jessica George

• The Calamity Club by Kathryn Stockett

Check out my post on June 2026 new releases for a longer list!

A book set in summer

• The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides

• Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt

• The Summer I Turned Pretty by Jenny Han

A book by an author you’ve never read before

These are books recommended by subscribers that I’d never heard of before!

• Eager by Ben Goldfarb

• River of the Gods by Candice Millard

• Auē by Becky Manawatu

A book whose cover you love

• Pool House by Mary H.K. Choi

• Raising Hare by Chloe Dalton

• Take Me With You by Stephen Rowley

A book in a genre you don’t typically read

According to the internet, the least popular genres are: Westerns, Drama/Literary Fiction (outside of academic or award circles), and niche non-fiction topics. Here’s one of each.

• True Grit by Charles Portis

• Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner

• The Feather Thief by Kirk Wallace Johnson

A library book

Anything works here! Here are a few books I love recommending to anyone :)

• 11/22/63 by Stephen King

• Be Ready When the Luck Happens by Ina Garten

• The Map of Salt and Stars by Zeyn Joukhadar

What Are You Waiting For? Let’s Get Reading!

The challenge starts on June 1st. Drop a comment below to say you’re in and share your recommendations. If you’re not already subscribed, this is a very good summer to start.

If you want something a bit more structured this summer, Sasha Brown-Worsham is running an Adult Book It program over at . Think Pizza Hut Book It, grown up: subscribers vote on what the group reads next, two books per round all summer, with digital stickers and real prizes at the end. If you like a little more shape to your reading, go say hi and cast a vote.

See you in the chat 🍕

Leave a comment

My parents took me to the library at least once a week and encouraged me to check out as many books as I could carry home.

Because of that early exposure, reading came easily, and I started reading harder and harder books. Teachers, excited to come across a little reader, pressed books above my grade level into my hands and praised me with each one I finished.

As I grew into my teen years, it somehow became clear to me that being a “good” reader meant being a serious reader. That meant forgoing fluffy books in favor of classics, literary fiction, historical fiction, and nonfiction. Yes, it was perfectly fine to read for entertainment, as long as that entertainment wasn’t too low-brow.

Cue my intense aversion to romance novels: the absolute worst genre one could read if they wanted to be taken seriously as a reader and a thinker.

A Brief History of Romance Novels

Romance as a genre emerged in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Samuel Richardson’s Pamela; or, Virtue Rewarded, published in 1740, is largely considered one of the first true romance novels to be widely distributed. Unlike what you may think, though, the book was written for a largely male audience.

Romance books written for women appeared around 70 years later, with Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. Unlike previous works more focused on male readers, these protagonists experienced passionate love and more equitable treatment than many women experienced in their daily lives.

Women were hooked. Of course, critics chimed in immediately, saying romance novels weren’t “real” literature. They were silly little stories for silly little women who lacked the brains to write or digest more complex fiction.

Harlequin Changes Everything

In 1950, Mary Bonnycastle took over editorial duties at Harlequin Books and noticed an untapped market: Canadian readers who loved British romance books. She brought the British books to North America and developed a winning formula: a chance meeting, a courtship that allowed for character development, and a happy ending.

Then, in 1973, Harlequin made two moves that changed everything. They launched Harlequin Presents, a less chaste line of books. Equally as important, they decided to sell books where women were: grocery stores.

Largely lacking access to their own discretionary money, women were now able to use their grocery funds to pick up a book as part of their weekly shop. Harlequin even tucked free books into packages of products that homemakers were already buying.

The combination of greater access and sexier books was an instant hit. For an entire generation, Harlequin became synonymous with romance.

As social norms around sex changed, the books got raunchier. Enter the “bodice rippers,” with covers featuring overtly passionate couples locked in embrace. Bonus points if it featured cover darling, the Italian model Fabio.

This is the context in which I grew up: romance novels were little more than bodice rippers with cheesy covers, targeted at bored housewives. Growing up in the Girl Power era, I was terrified of being seen as one of these women.

So I swore off romance. If I wanted to be taken seriously as a woman, I couldn’t be one who read romance.

Finding Joy in Romance

That notion stayed with me until this year.

I spent years building a business from scratch and fighting for my place in a male-dominated corner of the business world (think lots of management consultants, investment bankers, and Forbes 30 under 30). I built my entire identity around this, from the way I dressed to the way I spoke to the way I wrote emails.

No one was monitoring what I read, but as part of maintaining this identity, I was. I read plenty of books that I enjoyed and that no one would consider “serious” fiction. But I still avoided romance like the plague.

Then it all changed.

Maybe it’s a by-product of maturing, but I stopped caring as much about what others thought of me. I knew I was good at my job, but the constant editing of my personality to be more palatable to others was exhausting. So I just…stopped.

I didn’t run to the library and immediately check out an Emily Henry book, but one day, when a neighbor recommended a new romance novel for the 100th time, I said to myself, “Why not?”

And I loved it.

It was light and well-written. I genuinely cared about the characters and felt truly happy when they found their way to each other. And that famous happy ending? Well, with the world as complicated as it is right now, who doesn’t need a little more of that?

I liked it so much, I immediately picked up another romance as soon as I finished.

Read Like No One Is Watching

So would I consider myself a romance reader now? Sort of. I’ve only read a handful of novels so far. Some are great, and some are so tropey that I have to put them down. (It’s good for me to remember that I DNF books in every genre.)

What I can say is that I’ve found unexpected joy in reading romance and wish I’d given the genre a chance years ago. For me, reading romance is like eating a lovely dessert: sweet, satisfying, and the perfect contrast to a meal. I can’t survive on chocolate alone, but it is an important part of my diet.

The genre has been dismissed for centuries because it’s written largely by women, for women. What I’ve come to realize is that my own dismissal of it had less to do with literary quality and more to do with fear. Choosing romance now feels like a small permission slip to stop performing seriousness and just enjoy what I enjoy.

Read what you want to read. All reading counts. Be unapologetic in your tastes.

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I’d love to hear from you in the comments. Have you ever talked yourself out of a genre, an author, or a book because it didn’t fit the reader you thought you should be?

For the romance readers among you, help a newcomer out. What should I read next?