Where Does Novelist Emily Giffin Find the Energy to Hate Meghan Markle so Much?

There must have been a time when I had passions—when love and hate were distinct from one another and my feelings about nearly everything were not a grey lump of “eh, good enough.” But beyond the rage I’m still able to muster daily at the news cycle, things I used to loathe—citrus in desserts, gin.. etc—have become newly acceptable as my will to hate erodes. This dulling undercurrent of general malaise is probably why I find American chick lit novelist Emily Giffin’s commitment to baselessly despising former British royal Meghan Markle, who is likely unaware of Giffin’s existence, especially bewildering, to the point of becoming slightly alarming.

Giffin’s Instagram bio describes her as a “novelist, Anglophile, political junkie” and “mother of runners,” all of which are prominently on display in her posts. But while her bio does not describe her as “Reviler of Meghan Markle,” much of the content within the account is devoted to that very purpose, including a string of recent Stories criticizing Meghan for everything from holding her baby to denying her husband, Prince Harry, access to children’s books.

Here is a screenshot Giffin posted of a private text conversation in which a friend, or possibly a chatbot, lackadaisically volleyed Giffins talking points back at her, perhaps to keep that hatred keen for the Instagram mainstage.

The Pro-Kate/Anti-Meghan subtheme of Giffin’s Instagram account dates back quite some time, but efforts have really ramped up since March, suggesting that disliking a famous stranger has gone from a passing interest to a major hobby, the way some who merely enjoyed bread in February have now found the time to devote weeks to fermenting yeast throughout the months of March and April.

While the women’s fiction industry is a crowded place, and climbing to the top of such a competitive market is no small feat, the playing field for vitriol against Markle is already jam-packed by English tabloid reporters and British citizens, with much more experience in the arena of Anglo-traditionalist navel-gazing. And pulling off the ultimate feat, becoming an acknowledged villain in the Markle story—which already boasts the literal queen of England—would be damn near impossible at this point. Not to shit on anyone’s dreams, but might I gently suggest a pivot to poorly lit photos of sloppily plated lunches as an Instagram quarantine hobby.