Judy Goldman Brings Us “Together: A Memoir of a Marriage and a Medical Mishap” And Poetry, Too

Podcast: Download (Duration: 49:40 — 45.6MB)

In this episode number 11, author Judy Goldman reads one of her published poems entitled: Sunday Night, Driving Home, where the reader can feel themselves as children settling into the backseat as the hum of the highway in the dark of night puts them at ease. She also reads from her new book, Together: A Memoir of a Marriage and a Medical Mishap, due for publication by Doubleday in February 2019. New York Times best-selling authors Ron Rash and Wiley Cash speak glowingly of the new book. And finally, she reads from her book, Losing My Sister, a finalist for both Southeast Booksellers Alliance’s Memoir of the Year and ForeWord Review’s Memoir of the Year.

Judy is the author of six books:  two memoirs, two novels, and two books of poetry. Judy has won many prizes and awards for her work which has appeared in The Southern Review, Kenyon Review, Gettysburg Review, Ohio Review, Prairie Schooner, Shenandoah, Crazyhorse, and Real Simple magazine. She received the Hobson Award for Distinguished Achievement in Arts and Letters, the Fortner Writer and Community Award for “outstanding generosity to other writers and the larger community,” and the Beverly D. Clark Author Award from Queens University. Judy is an accomplished author and advocate for the writing community.

The readings – in order:

Sunday Night, Driving Home

In this poem, the author and he sister lie across the back seat, resting on their pillows pressed against the glass of a moving car, a family headed home on Sunday night.

“If I close one eye the light form the dial

looks like the tip of a cigarette.

And my mother is smoking,

the small fingers of her left hand moving

to her lips, then the curve of the front seat

close to my father’s shoulder.”

[The rest of the poem is on the show]

Together: A Memoir of a Marriage and a Medical Mishap

In this opening excerpt from Judy Goldman’s new book, Together: A Memoir of a Marriage and a Medical Mishap, everything is fine until it isn’t, and as the author says, depicts “how a brushfire can erupt on a perfectly sunny, clear-skied day.”

“Henry and I are at the kitchen table, eating breakfast.  Grape Nuts, sliced banana, milk for him.  Oatmeal for me, with walnuts chopped small, fresh blueberries, and dried cranberries.  Mugs of coffee.  I did not always drink coffee.  My feeling was that it never tasted as good as it smelled.  But with enough Half & Half, I like it now.  Funny about how we describe ourselves.  One minute, we’re:  Oh, I’m not a coffee-drinker.  Never touch it.  The next, we’re solidly in another camp:  Have to have coffee every morning.  Who we are can flip like that.  The details always shifting.  Henry picks up the Sports section, folds it in half, then half again, pushes the rest of The Charlotte Observer to the far side of the table.  I’ve got the Living section.  It’s mid-February 2006.  Outside: wintry and windy.  And wet.

“‘Doesn’t this sound like a good idea?” he says, pointing to an ad I can’t read from where I’m sitting. “A non-surgical procedure for back pain. Done by a physiatrist.’”

[The rest of the book excerpt is on the show]

Losing My Sister

In this excerpt, the relationship of sisters comes alive.

“Five years old, I can always win over my sister by stuffing my whole fist in my mouth.  She huddles with neighborhood friends on the sidewalk, engrossed in whatever it is eight-year-olds do.  I hang around the outskirts, waiting for a chance to break in. What can I do that they can’t? Well, there are these little tricks I’ve been practicing.  One is saying the alphabet backwards faster than most people can say it forward.  But I know that Brenda and her friends will not stay put long enough for me to go from z to a.  Of course, there’s this other trick I’ve perfected.  One of Brenda’s friends steps back or maybe just turns around briefly, and I quickly slip inside the circle, work my fingers behind my two front teeth, push and grind until my hand disappears all the way up to my bony wrist, and everyone — including my sister – goes, “Goshhh!”

“Brenda has me repeat this for other groups.  It never fails to astound.”

[The rest of the book excerpt ison the show]

Listeners can connect with the author at her website: www.judygoldman.com