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Allison Pearson: Why I really wrote I Don't Know How She Does It
like the heroine of my book, I was unravelling by then, although I didn’t know how badly. I was in Chicago after months on the road promoting my first novel. Kate Reddy had been born 4,000 miles away in our living room in north London. Like nearly all of my friends at that time, my character was struggling to cope with two small children, one bewildered husband, a full-time job and 37 pending tasks on a to-do list that never got any shorter.Permanently fretting that she wasn’t a proper mum, like the Mothers Superior who made snide comments at the school gate, Kate bought mince pies in Sainsbury’s and distressed them with a rolling pin so she could pass them off as home-made at her daughter’s carol concert.
