We chat with author Van Hoang about The Monstrous Misses Mai, which follows a determined young woman in 1950s Los Angeles walks a darker city than she ever imagined in a spellbinding novel about the power to make dreams come true―whatever the sacrifice.
What inspired you to write THE MONSTROUS MISSES MAI?
I am absolutely obsessed with the 1950s and 1960s for admittedly very shallow reasons–the dresses! the colors, the hairstyle, the hats! Everything was so much more aesthetically pleasing during that time. Even the cars. I couldn’t care less about cars, and somehow those mint-colored spaceship-looking vehicles really make me nostalgic for a milkshake in a diner with the doo-wops playing on the jukebox, sitting with friends in A-line dresses and pin curls while we fall in love with the prospect of the future and living life.
I desperately wanted to spend time with that vibe, to be surrounded with that atmosphere, and basically to escape into a better moment. When the idea first emerged, I was stuck at home during the pandemic. I had just had a baby and was awaiting the release of my debut middle grade novel and was filled with anxiety and uncertainty, and I had also just graduated (i.e. accumulate a lot of student loan debt) with my master’s degree in Library Information Science, which seemed useless at the time because jobs were even more scarce in an already saturated, highly competitive industry. I had a lot of time to think and to mostly be angry about a lot of things such as the evilness of capitalism, the unfairness of race and privilege, the lack of pockets in dresses! And women’s clothes in general! And all of those emotions eventually culminated in this book.
And how did your main character, Cordi, emerge?
Cordi was born out of a need to deal with some things I went through in my 20s, when I was her age. Coming to terms with my family trauma and how difficult it is to make friends as you enter adulthood, though of course she is not me and I’m not her–she grew into her own character the more she left my brain and emerged on the page.
Are there particular films that have influenced your writing?
I watched The Craft (1996) when I was probably too young for it, and the horrifying images wreaked havoc on my brain for years. I related so hard to the main character’s awkwardness and need to belong while yearning for the power that she cultivates through her arc. Even though I consider myself a Halloweenie, I find scary stories incredibly compelling and have gleaned a lot from the way they deliver suspense and tension. The rest of my go-tos include more wholesome, happier stories, something with color and vibrancy and a feast for the eyes. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel was a favorite comfort watch before and during the pandemic, and it actually inspired the dresses, tone, and time period in The Monstrous Misses Mai.
Your descriptions of 1950s Los Angeles are so evocative. What kind of research did you do in order to capture that time period so well?
I read books and magazines published in that time period–like Valley of the Dolls, Life Magazine, Mademoiselle. I hunted down microfilms, searched online newspaper databases, and read as much as I could to get the voice and language of how people spoke, especially in L.A. Thank God for libraries with local history departments, newspaper collections, and digital archives.
What I found most challenging was giving myself permission to write about a city that belongs to so many people and claim the authenticity to do so, because Los Angeles feels so old yet so young, vast but also a microcosm of diverse cultures with so much personality. I wanted to know what daily life was like for single women in their 20s, so I printed an old map of Los Angeles during 1959 and plotted all the locations that appeared in the book, charting out how Cordi could get to work, what routes the girls would take during their outings. I watched remastered YouTube videos of cars driving down streets during that time. I happened to have a friend who works for the L.A. County Planning Department, and picked her brain on the transit system and other past developments.
It helps that I absolutely love old documents, photographs, and anything that hints at what daily life was like. I spent hours looking at advertisements, classifieds, and missed connections, which I find so entertaining. The research felt daunting at first–I didn’t set out to write a historical novel but one set in a secondary world inspired by the 1950s, but after early talks with my agent, I realized that I was just scared of the work. Once I got into it, I got really into it and found it so fascinating and gratifying. I think I’m addicted now.
Who are some of your favorite authors from whom you have drawn inspiration? And what books in particular did you love?
There’s something about Tana French’s ability to make me root so deeply for her characters even though they are so completely different from me and her books are different from anything I would write. I especially loved The Likeness and The Witch Elm. I’m also so inspired by authors like Silvia Moreno-Garcia who aren’t afraid to break their own molds. Kate DiCamillo’s The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane wrecks me every time I re-read it, which is about once a year. Patrick Ness’s A Monster Calls is one of the most important books I’ve read, and reminds me that storytelling is a type of miracle.
Why are you so obsessed with pockets?
When my family moved from Vietnam to Southern California, my mother opened an alterations shop. It was there that I became fascinated with pockets and learned how to sew them into things. Years later, that esoteric but essential skill would inspire me to create Cordelia Mai Yin, who shares my passion for pockets and hopes to fulfill her fashion designer dreams in 1950s Los Angeles.
