An Imagined Interview Between Meryl Branch-McTiernan and the Fictional Dr. Melfi from The Sopranos
A Conversation between the Writer and Lorraine Bracco as Dr. Jennifer Melfi
Me: Hi Dr. Melfi… Jennifer?
Dr. Melfi: Dr. Melfi is fine.
Me: I’m thrilled you were willing to come out of retirement after—what—nearly twenty years, to work with me.
Dr. Melfi: What brings you to therapy?
Me: I’m having trouble deciding what to write my next book about and I’m hoping you can help me get unstuck. Have you worked with writers before?
Dr. Melfi: I’ve had all kinds of patients.
Me: Believe me, I know. I’ve been watching you for a long time. Too long, in fact.
Dr. Melfi: Too long? Explain what you mean by too long.
Me: Well, I didn’t have cable in high school when you first came on. I was a junior then. You know, I’m a year younger than Meadow Soprano.
Dr. Melfi: I didn’t know that. We’ve only just met.
Me: I really started watching in 2013, after Tony, I mean James Galdofini, died. Again? Did he die the first time? The jury’s still out, right?
Dr. Melfi: It’s a lot of violence to take in during one sitting.
Me: I should’ve been watching when I was with Nathan, but instead I was binging Sex and the City. Looking at the whole Carrie and Big thing and hoping I’d get a happy ending. I don’t think that helped the relationship… Can I be honest with you?
Dr. Melfi: Honesty is what we do here.
Me: I thought if I started watching you guys again, I’d find another boyfriend.
Dr. Melfi: Did it work?
Me: Total failure. But I got to the end. When I’m in a binge, I’m totally immersed in Tony’s world. Making lasagna, calling everyone fat fucks and malignant cunts. I’m out there chasing ducks…
Dr. Melfi: I think they call that Sopranos Derangement Syndrome. So, you weren’t able to find a boyfriend?
Me: I was hoping if I kept tuning into HBO, or Max or whatever the hell they’re calling it, one would appear. But perhaps it doesn’t work that way.
Dr. Melfi: A lot of my patients have met through the apps.
Me: I hate the apps. It’s not where I want to put my writing energy. Wasting my clever lines on those clowns. And they’re always writing LOL when nobody told a joke. It’s infuriating.
Dr. Melfi: It doesn’t sound like you’re approaching dating with a positive outlook.
Me: I’m supposed to be writing a fucking novel! Not wasting my words writing missives to dirtbags who cancel on me half the time.
Dr. Melfi: You seem to get very upset when you talk about this. Have you ever thought about using ChatGPT to help you communicate with these young men?
Me: Jesus Christ, do you want me to stab you in the shower? I’m sorry… I’m sorry… That was wrong. But I picked you because I wanted a therapist I could let loose around. Be my worst self. I’m always looking for someone who accepts me for my worst self. Listen, I won’t threaten you like that again. Can I ask you a couple questions about the rape though?
Dr. Melfi: I’m sorry. Were you a victim of sexual assault?
Me: You were. I mean, your character was. I know, as a girl, my biggest fear is supposed to be rape. But for some reason, it never was. Until I saw it happen to you in that parking lot. It was visceral. I was so mad that someone did that to you. You’re so poised, so untouchable…
Dr. Melfi: It’s interesting how you refer to yourself as a girl and not a woman.
Me: Well, yeah. I’m not a woman. I’ve never done any womanly things. Like have a house or buy a baby. Reverse those… I don’t collect people’s addresses and send Christmas cards. I don’t meal prep. Or say the word errand. I think I’ll be a girl until I’m like 86 or 93 or something.
Dr. Melfi: You mentioned that sexual assault is not your greatest fear. What is?
Me: Oh, being ignored. Ghosted as the kids say. But anyway, when I saw that scene, a psychotic rage came over me and I wanted you to tell Tony. Because you know he would’ve shoved an Italian hero up that guy’s asshole. He would’ve beaten him all the way to Hackensack with a soppressata–
Dr. Melfi: I think you’re using my character to avoid the subject you came here for. You’ve turned the focus away from your writing. And you’re not open to talking about your quest to find a loving relationship. How can I help you if you keep deflecting?
Me: I think we might be done for the day. Isn’t an hour only forty-five minutes around here? Who’s got the best chicken parm heroes on the block?
Dr. Melfi: Why did you come to therapy if you don’t want to talk about yourself?
Me: My writing workshop leader said I had to start dating again, so I’d get new material. But I have material. I still haven’t finished my story about the Lyft driver I hooked up with who tried to borrow 250 bucks. Or the guy from game night, who kept asking me if I “did ass licking,” like he was ordering off a dim sum menu. Or my LA lover who rode a scooter from Burbank to Hollywood. I’m sitting on a lot of stories. But I’m sick of myself.
Dr. Melfi: Have you tried creating characters who aren’t like you?
Me: Yeah, I used to do it all the time. But I got scared I’d do it wrong.
Dr. Melfi: What will happen if you get it wrong?
Me: Everyone will hate me.
Dr. Melfi: What worries you more? Being ignored or being hated.
Me: Weren’t you gonna tell me where I can get that chicken parmigiana hero?
—
MERYL BRANCH-McTIERNAN is a novelist, essayist, and screenwriter. Her short fiction has appeared in the Brooklyn Rail and the Southampton Review. She cowrote and produced the comedy feature Katie’s Mom, which won the Audience Award for Fusion Features at the 2023 Dances with Films festival. Branch-McTiernan received her BS in television, radio, and film from the S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications at Syracuse University, and her MFA in creative writing and literature from Stony Brook University. She lives on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. What You Should Worry About is her first novel.
WHAT YOU SHOULD WORRY ABOUT
In this beautifully crafted and often hilarious debut novel, thirty-seven-year-old Layla Moody must navigate the coronavirus pandemic lockdown while finding family on her own terms
“What You Should Worry About is literary, feminist, sexual, brave, smart, and hilarious. Meryl Branch-McTiernan is a real voice of our city and time.”
―Jennifer Belle, author of Swanna in Love
IT’S JANUARY OF 2020 and thirty-seven-year-old Layla Moody is trying to worm her way into a party at the Sundance Film Festival. When she’s not picking up other people’s abandoned drinks or skinny-dipping in the hot tub, she’s trying to gain access to someone who can jump-start her stymied career as a Hollywood television writer. After a run-in with one of her creative heroines, she lands an opportunity to get her show produced. The only catch is, she has to return to New York, which she’s been avoiding since her father’s death.
But soon all is thwarted when COVID-19 shuts down the entertainment industry and any opportunity to propel her life forward. While quarantining alone in her parents’ apartment in Queens, Layla wrestles with the ghost of an ex-boyfriend who disappeared unexpectedly, the grief of processing the loss of her father, and the notion that she just might be the one responsible for her current state of solitude.
Finally, in spite of warnings and stay-at-home orders, Layla throws caution to the wind and joins a share house on Fire Island where she spent summers in her twenties. By returning to the house and its eclectic denizens, she is reintroduced to the comfort and annoying tendencies of other people, and begins to grasp how to find family on her own terms.
BUY HERE
Category: Interviews, On Writing
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