I think it's good advice. Most people -- both men and women -- spend far too much time making nice. That time really could better be spent writing.
However, I know and know of a lot of women who not only don't slay the angel, they fix breakfast for it and make sure it's warm enough and has clean socks. Lucille Clifton, who just passed away, said that one of the reasons her poems were so short is because she had so many children! But she wrote the poems anyway. Clearly, the angel in the house spread its astonishing wings over everything and every now and then gave her ten minutes to herself.
Between poetry and prose, I turn out a lot of work, but I should. It's all that I do besides indulging my low-voltage vices. The writers who deserve the credit are the ones with wives and husbands and children and parents and health problems and dingy colors and less than sparkling whites who also get the work done.
My hat, the one with the feather, is off to them.