Art & Creativity Quote by Nora Ephron

Ephron lands the joke with the clean cruelty of an editor's pencil: if pregnancy were literature, the ending would get axed. It’s funny because it’s so plainly unromantic. Instead of treating pregnancy as a glowing, sanctified arc, she frames it as a badly paced narrative - one that starts with promise and then drags through an overlong finale. The line borrows the authority of craft (cut the fat, tighten the plot) to talk about a bodily experience that culture insists must be described as miraculous.

The intent is both comic and corrective. Ephron punctures the public script that demands gratitude and radiance from pregnant people, especially women expected to perform joy while their bodies revolt. The subtext: the “last two chapters” are the part you’re not supposed to narrate honestly - the swelling, the discomfort, the loss of control, the looming medical stakes, the sheer boredom of waiting. By translating those weeks into a structural problem, she gives permission to admit that the finale can be miserable without making the whole story a tragedy.

Context matters: Ephron built a career on turning female experience into punchlines sharp enough to cut through sentimentality. Her wit isn’t just observational; it’s political in miniature. The line treats pregnancy not as a pedestal but as material, insisting that women’s embodied reality belongs in the same unsparing, revision-minded conversation as any other narrative. If the culture wants a perfect ending, Ephron reminds us: real bodies don’t obey the demands of plot.