Volume XI, Issue
27
July 6, 2022
Word of the Week: complications
Dear ,
What a joy and a privilege it is to feature Charlotte's own Judy Goldman and her new memoir, Child, today!
Judy has been such an enormous help to me, beginning in the very early 1990's with the time I spent learning the ins and outs of poetry as I sat, with 11 other poets (and Judy, of course) around her
dining room table. It was always the highlight of my week. Here's a photo of us in 2019, when I got to introduce her as the latest winner of CPCC's distinguished Irene Blair Honeycutt award.
When I first met Judy, she had written one beautiful volume of poetry called Holding Back Winter. (My inscribed copy is here beside me as I type this.) She has gone on to write another book of poetry, two novels, and three memoirs. Her latest book, Child, is a
marvel. The prologue, which is this week's featured writing, is a powerful lesson in what memoir is, and also offers some powerful inspiration to "tell the stories we've been wanting to tell for as long as we remember" NOW. Even if our lives are fraught with complications. Even, or perhaps especially, if the stories we are trying to tell are fraught with complications.
Love and light,
Maureen
Upcoming WordPlay
THE NURTURING NATURE OF WORDS—
AND OUR WORLD
Reconnect with the natural world through the words of writers who invite us into a reciprocal, healing relationship with it, including Henry David Thoreau, Mary Oliver, Wendell Berry, and Robin Wall Kimmerer. We'll use passages of their works to inspire writing about our own experiences with nature, and to deepen our appreciation for its gifts. We'll also explore a number of fun,
easy methods to help your words flow, whatever your level of writing experience.
COST: $119
WHERE: Chautauqua Institution, Chautauqua, NY
WHEN: Monday - Thursday, August 8 -11, 3:30 - 5:30
p.m.
TO REGISTER: Click here.
*******************************************
WRITING OUR OWN PROFILES IN COURAGE
When have you experienced courage—your own, or anyone else's? What was its source? How can we become more courageous? Come explore these questions, and others, through holistic, whole-brain methods of writing that will open your mind, heart, and spirit to your own growth, and to our human potential to keep
growing. Ideal for those interested in expanding their writing and their relationship to self, others and the world—for personal expression or publication.
COST: $119
WHERE: Chautauqua Institution, Chautauqua, NY
WHEN: Monday - Thursday, August 15 -18, 3:30 - 5:30
p.m.
TO REGISTER: Click here.
More WordPlay opportunities here.
Judy Goldman is the award-winning author of seven books – three memoirs, two novels, and two collections of poetry. Her new memoir, Child, was named a Katie Couric Media Must-Read Book for 2022.
Her recent memoir, Together: A Memoir of a Marriage and a Medical Mishap, was named one of the best books of 2019 by Real Simple magazine and received a starred review from Library Journal.
Her work has appeared in USA Today, Washington Post, Charlotte Observer, Real Simple, LitHub, and many literary journals and anthologies.
She has won numerous awards, including the Fortner Writer & Community Award for “outstanding generosity to other writers and the larger community,” the Hobson Award for Distinguished Achievement in Arts & Letters, and several awards for her books, including all three annual
prizes awarded for a book of poetry by a North Carolinian.
Frances Mayes, author of Under the Tuscan Sun, said this about Child:
“This moving memoir of a Black woman’s importance in a white family reminds me that behind, under, and above the racial divide in the South, there ran strong currents of abiding love and mutual protection. These currents Judy Goldman excels at exploring without illusion and with
full humanity. What a brave and timely book.”
Learn more about Child, and Judy Goldman, here: http://judygoldman.com/
What Judy says about Maureen
My earliest memory of Maureen is when she was taking poetry workshops with me, many years ago, in my dining room! Maureen stood out. Not just because she’s so pretty. But because of her natural talent as a poet. And because of her strong inclination to be generous and open-hearted with everyone else in the workshop.
I can still recall lines from her poems—the lush and vivid images, the specificity in her language. And I can visualize her then, praising her fellow participants, totally engaged in their work, tactfully suggesting revision where revision was needed, always attentive and supportive, that bright smile of hers. And now, years later, Maureen is still a stellar poet, and she’s still encouraging others to tell their stories. Her Word-zine is a perfect example of her big heart and marvelous ideas.
She's a true treasure in our writing community. I don’t know anyone who does NOT love Maureen! I include myself in that!
Prologue
Like thousands of white southerners in my generation, I was raised
by a Black woman who had to leave her own child behind to work
for a white family. At least, that’s what I always believed. It wasn’t
until I’d written several drafts of this book, then happened upon
unsettling information which had been in these pages all along, that
I started asking questions of the people who were still alive. And
that’s when I learned there was more to the story.
A story that, of course, encompasses race. But also childhood.
And all that occurs before we grasp the true scale of the grown-up
world.
These are micro-narratives. Fragments that form a love story. A
jumbled-up love story. The ordinary, moment-by-moment story of
Mattie Culp and me—from the time I was three until her death
sixty-three years later.
Memory is two parts.
First, the re-inhabiting:
The light outside our window is fading. Mattie and I sit side by side
on the edge of the bed. She takes off her glasses and places them on the Bible on her bedside table, leans closer to me so that I can rub her pillowy shoulders, mostly her right shoulder, the one that always goes stiff after a day of work. My small fingers soften the knots that need softening.
She whispers, “You got magic in your hands.”
Then, the interpreting:
Our love was unwavering. But it was, by definition, uneven. She
was hired by my parents to iron my dresses and fry my over-light
eggs. But that doesn’t begin to describe the marvel she was to me.
And what was I to her? How to be clear and un-idealized about
that?
At times, I’ve hesitated to even talk about us. And, if I couldn’t
talk about us, I sure couldn’t write about us. Our relationship was
lovely in an unlovely context. So many contradictions. If I say one
thing, I could be denying something else. My opinions might really
just be assumptions, any innocence I express simply defensiveness.
Nothing is ever simple.
But I’ve wanted to tell this story for as long as I can remember.
I’m eighty now. There won’t be a better time for me to get the details
down. To try to understand the complications of a key relationship
in my life. To answer that voice saying yes, go ahead, write our story,
before it’s lost.
~ From Child. Learn more/purchase here.
WordPlay Now! Writing Prompt
This is WordPlay—so why not revel in the power and potential of one good word after another? This week, it's "complications."
PROMPT: Make a list of the stories you've been wanting to tell for as long as you can remember. Pick the most complicated one, the hardest and most important one, and tell it. Don't let life's current complications stop you.
It's fun to play with prompts in community with fellow writers, and to be able to share the results when you're done. You can find out about WordPlay classes, workshops, and retreats here.
MAUREEN RYAN GRIFFIN, an award-winning poetry and nonfiction
writer, is the author of Spinning Words into Gold, a Hands-On Guide to the Craft of Writing, a grief workbook entitled I Will Never Forget You, and three collections of poetry, Ten Thousand Cicadas Can't Be Wrong, This Scatter of Blossoms and When the Leaves Are in the Water.
She believes, as author Julia Cameron says, "We are meant to midwife dreams for one another." Maureen also believes that serious "word work" requires serious WordPlay, as play is how we humans best
learn—and perform. What she loves best is witnessing all the other dreams that come true for her clients along the way. Language, when used with intentionality and focus, is, after all, serious fuel for joy. Here's to yours!
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