Cannie has several similarities with Weiner: Both are Philadelphia journalists who went to Princeton, and both have struggled with being larger women. They've also both been hit hard by their parents divorcing; and like Cannie, Weiner has a mother who has come out of the closet. Weiner jokes on her website that after college, she was "qualified to do nothing but write self-conscious short stories about [my] parents' divorce." As with many writers, trauma has become a mixed blessing for Weiner; who writes candidly and potently about the pain of being from a "broken home."

Weiner's books are immediately comfortable, with smart, movie-worthy dialogue and characters that are almost always engaging, if not likable. It would be (and has been) easy to categorize her work as "chick lit," and she might not even argue with that; but to do so is a bit facile. It undercuts the effortless intelligence that Weiner injects into her writing, her characters dropping references to Steinbeck and Andrea Dworkin as they apply MAC lip gloss.

Since her 2001 debut, Weiner's fictional themes have matured, as well. Although she mostly ties up her stories with satisfying neatness, she never shies away from the messiness of life. Her work resonates with real issues faced by countless women: the complexities of family relationships, the challenges of motherhood, and the exasperating, seemingly unsolvable mystery of men.

Weiner delivers terrific recreational reading, but imbues her characters with a wit and complexity that goes beyond beach-reads. It's fitting that she has called journalism "just about the perfect career for aspiring young writers." She has developed her skills as a journalist and columnist, and focused them on creating characters who could be you, or your friend.