We chat with author Anna Johnston about When Lemons Give You Life, which is a heart-stirring novel about family, second chances, and the lengths we go for those we love, following a woman fighting to hold onto life and her older brother who’s rediscovering reasons to embrace it.
Hi, Anna! Welcome back! What have you been up to since we last spoke for the release of The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife?
Thank you! It has been a wonderfully busy and surreal time. I’ve been deep in writing my second book, while The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife has continued to find its way into the world beyond what I could have imagined—including being optioned for film by Netflix. I’ve also been on a Australian book tour and recently traveled to the States for Zibby’s Most Anticipated event, so it has been a lovely whirlwind of writing, traveling, meeting readers, and trying to take it all in.
Your latest novel, When Lemons Give You Life, is out now! If you could only describe it in five words, what would they be?
Ratatouille + A Man Called Ove
What can readers expect?
Readers can expect a deeply moving, big-hearted story about food, family, grief, friendship, and the lengths we go for those we love. There is humor, tenderness, and plenty of sensory joy—the kind of book that asks what care, dignity, and connection can look like when life has lost its flavour.
Where did the inspiration for When Lemons Give You Life come from?
Food has always felt like one of life’s purest joys to me—and one of our oldest languages. I’ve always been fascinated by how a meal can say I love you, I see you, I remember, without anyone needing to spell it out.
That belief has shaped so much of my life and work. When my children were born, I taught myself to make elaborate themed birthday cakes and even went on to make a three-tiered cake covered in handmade sugar flowers for my brother-in-law’s wedding. People often told me I should turn cake making into a business, but for me, baking was always about love and connection—about the look on someone’s face when they see something made especially for them. Food tells people they matter.
One of the most formative experiences of my career was developing an award-winning local-government cooking program for widowed older men. What began as a practical course quickly became something much deeper. As the men learned to cook nourishing meals, their health improved, confidence grew, friendships formed, and a sense of pride and purpose returned. Flavors unlocked memories—childhood kitchens, family tables, holiday feasts. Many went from barely eating, or relying on toast, to proudly hosting the family Sunday roast dinner. It remains one of the most joyful measures of success I have ever witnessed.
My years working in nursing homes echoed the same quiet truth: thoughtfully prepared meals could gather people together across grief, illness, and time, and return a vital sense of self. That idea of food becoming a way back into the world really struck me. It felt so simple and so profound: that a meal could help someone remember who they were, reconnect with others, and feel part of life again. I wanted to explore that on the page. And who better to do that through than a Michelin-star chef?
Were there any moments or characters you really enjoyed writing or exploring?
Yes—Lisa was a character I especially loved exploring because so much of her story is close to my heart. Like many adults in recent years, as understanding of the condition has grown, I was diagnosed with ADHD at forty. It made me realize just how misunderstood ADHD still is, particularly in women. It is so often framed as a lack of effort or discipline, when in reality it can be a differently wired, wonderfully creative, deeply empathetic, sometimes chaotic way of moving through a world that is not always built for difference.
My diagnosis made sense of so many contradictions: how I could get high grades and push myself through medical school, yet still be completely floored by the simplest tidying tasks; how impulsivity, distraction, and clutter could exist in the same mind that can hyperfocus for hours, feel deeply for others, and create with intensity and imagination. I wanted to bring that full spectrum to Lisa with empathy, humor, and truth. Much of what you see in her reflects my own experience, as well as the experiences of women I love—women who are so much richer and more complex than the labels often placed on them.
Griff and Beau also surprised me by growing far beyond what I had first imagined. One of the great privileges of being an author is the chance to step into someone else’s shoes, and I felt a real responsibility in writing a queer relationship outside my own lived experience. I was incredibly fortunate to be supported by a queer sensitivity reader, as well as two older gay male writer friends—one of whom is close in age to Griff. Through generous conversations and beta reads, they helped me better understand both Griff and his late husband, Beau, and gently encouraged me to dig deeper into how their relationship and their queerness would shape both their past and present. Through that process, the characters became far more fully realized, and the story was able to reflect some of the realities still faced by queer people as they age.
Did you face any challenges whilst writing? How did you overcome them?
When I started writing The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife, I had no idea where it might lead—whether I would even finish it, let alone see it published or optioned for screen. So when it came time to write my second book, I had this strange mix of proof and panic: I knew I had done it once, but I still felt a huge amount of imposter syndrome. Part of that came from knowing just how much readers had connected with Frederick, and wondering how any new characters could possibly follow him.
I credit much of the first book’s success to the magnetic kindness of my grandfather Fred, who inspired the main character. The protagonists for my second book had very big shoes to fill, and I was challenged to create different characters readers would still root for—characters who could not rely on the same perfect, unwavering goodness that made Frederick Fife so distinctive.
I overcame the pressure by letting go of the idea that I had to recreate Frederick’s magic and trusting these new characters to find their own. Once I stopped comparing them to Fred, I could let Lisa, Griff, and the others become fully themselves on the page. In When Lemons Give You Life, I wanted to explore heavier themes and lean into characters who are more complex—messier, perhaps—but still deeply human and, I hope, even more relatable.
Were there any key lessons learned from your debut that helped with When Lemons Give You Life?
Absolutely. I had a much better idea of what to expect at the various stages of editing and publishing. I also learned to be more selective with the type of humor used. When I’m writing, I sometimes lean into jokes that amuse me in the moment, but on a later read I ask whether each one really belongs in the world of the book, or whether it might distract from the feeling I’m trying to create. Not every kind of humor lands the same way for every reader, so I’ve become better at reigning myself in and shaping the tone.
What’s next for you?
I’m currently working on my third novel, The Last Milkman, a story about the importance of slowing down and seeking real connection in a world that’s becoming faster and faker.
Lastly, are there any books coming out soon you’re excited to pick up? Are there any recent releases you recommend?
I can’t wait to read Big & Lily by Lisa Roe, a heartfelt and funny novel about two sisters who discover that sometimes the best way to find yourself is by getting lost. This year has also brought some amazing memoirs. I absolutely loved Don’t Buy What I’m Selling by Lu Chekowsky—a raw, eye-opening, and sharply funny account from a former advertising executive at Facebook that exposes how the advertising industry feeds on our deepest insecurities. It’s an essential read for anyone wanting to feel better in their own skin and see those pressures for what they are. I also loved Imogen in Waiting by Lindsay Bartels, a beautifully written and courageous memoir that explores the tender, complicated boundaries of maternal love, genetic selection, and impossible medical choices.
