Novelist and short story writer Marian Thurm joins Zibby to discuss I DON’T KNOW HOW TO TELL YOU THIS, a touching and quirkily humorous book about a family court judge navigating complex cases in the courtroom and the heartbreaking decline of her brilliant husband. Marian shares the deeply personal inspiration for the book, including her parents’ struggles with dementia, and opens up about the two decades it took to bring this novel to life. She also reflects on her early career, her first publication in The New Yorker, and the surprising role persistence, luck, and motherhood have played in shaping her journey.

Transcript:

Zibby: Welcome, Marian. Thank you so much for coming on Totally Booked with Zibby to talk about, I Don't Know How To Tell You This. Congratulations. 

Marian: Thank you so much.

Thank you. It's wonderful to be here. Wonderful. I've seen you online and I see wonderful. You're just wonderful. That's all there is to it, and I appreciate that and yeah, absolutely. And I feel like I have very good instincts about people and I can just tell you're wonderful. 

Zibby: No, thanks. All right. I'll go.

Let's go with that. 

Marian: Okay. 

Zibby: Okay. Let's start off by, you're telling listeners what the book is about. 

Marian: Right. So, uh, the book is about a family court judge, um, and her life both inside and outside the courtroom and her life, both cases is certainly complicated and it's also about her, her husband's sad journey from being a super smart, um, Yale professor, a talented writer to someone who begins to lose it, um, day by day, week by week.

And, um, as someone. Who saw this in my own parents who were much, much, much older. I, there were just things that were said, things that happened, um, you know, never to be forgotten and so I always try to take even the saddest things, you know, in my life and put them to good use by, by writing about them. 

Zibby: Aw.

Marian: Yes. And there's also a, a holocaust survivor here who, uh, is. Inspired by, um, the mother and mother-in-law, um, of friends of mine, and they, they really, um, I was very lucky that they shared with me, uh, their memories of her and her life story. And also, of course, I have to mention that a very, a good friend of mine was previously a family court judge for years and, uh, he allowed me to sit next to him and I did this day after day, uh, week after week, and I took notes and believe it or not. This all started 20 years ago. 

Zibby: Oh my goodness. 

Marian: And I had actually seven books, other books published before this one because I just couldn't get it Right. I couldn't. And as a writer, it's such a frustrating thing, but I had invested so much time in it and it meant so much to me that I just, I just couldn't give up.

So it was over 20 years. 

Zibby: Oh my gosh. 

Marian: Yeah, so maybe that's a lesson too. All those writers out there, people who wanna be writers, that if you know you have a good idea and somehow you can't get it right, just to keep at it over and over and over again. That's it. 

Zibby: Wow. Very inspiring. And you've had an inspiring career to date.

Going as back quite a while. You said it was before I was born, but I'm not so sure. I don't think. 

Marian: Yes. 

Zibby: You know how old I am, but. 

Marian: Yes. It was before you. 

Zibby: Talk about how you got started as a writer. 

Marian: Well, but oh, actually I was thinking about this. Believe it or not, do you remember 17 Magazine? 

Zibby: Of course, yes! 

Marian: So when I was a teenager, you know, I used to read 17 Magazine and I even at that point, um, I still, I knew that I wanted to be a writer.

I still can't believe I did this. So I was about 13 or 14 and I wrote a story about my grandmother, which believe me, 17 is not gonna be interested in anything about your anyone's grandmother. But amazingly I got a rejection slip. But on the bottom it said something about we like, even though this story isn't right for us, we like your writing.

So, um, send us another story, you know, sometime, well, it turned out about, let me think about 40 years later, believe it or not, my story, I mean, the story that I wrote 40 years later. It was published in 17. It was the last piece of fiction 17 ever published, which I thought, I'm like the kiss of death because the thing happened with Madam Mazel.

I think they, I think the same thing I was, my story was the last story, the last piece of fiction they ever published. But when I told the editor at 17, you know, but I was 13 years old when I first sent them. That was the only other story. I sent them the one story when I was 13 and then many, many years later.

So it actually. 

Zibby: Oh my gosh. What a full circle moment. Great. 

Marian: Right. But, but, but the, but the funniest thing of all is that, and, and, and it's still it when I think about it, how luck has so much to do with life. It just really does and what happened was I was working, um, at Esquire magazine also a long time ago, and, um, the fiction editor there, his name was Gordon Wish, do you know that name?

Zibby: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. 

Marian: Right, right. And actually crazy thing is both Gordon, uh, taught at Yale while I was working for him, and then years later I taught at Yale. It's like, what are the chances of that happening? Anyway, so there were a lot of writers sort of coming and going to to visit him, and so my job was just to read the slush pile, and then if Gordon wasn't around, I would answer his phone. So I got to talk to, uh, Truman Capote and, uh, who always I identified himself, which was funny because he, his voice was so distinctive, you know, of course he recognized instantly, you know, the writer, uh, Raymond Carver? 

Zibby: Of course.

Marian: Yeah, so I talked to him a lot on the phone. He was a talker and he was actually very, very sweet. We talked about writing and I guess I, I was, you know, in my early twenties and I told him I wanted to be a writer, which was probably crazy that I would say something like that to him. But it turned out. But anyway, what happened was one day a writer came out of Gordon's office and he doesn't even know, I don't know if I should tell you his, his name, but, um, 'cause he has no idea who I am and what he did for me.

So he worked at the New Yorker. He had been published by them. Uh, his stories were published there. He worked in the New Yorkers typing pool and in those days, do you know what a typing pool was? 

Zibby: I do, yes. 

Marian: Right and, but, uh, Gordon was interested in publishing him, I guess, and as this young writer was walking out of Gordon's office, despite the fact that I was very shy.

My, my dad, I didn't have an office. My desk was out in the hallway and as he was walking by, I reached out my arm and I tapped him on the shoulder and I said, excuse me, um, could you possibly tell me the name of your editor at the New Yorker? And so, I guess maybe I gave him a little piece of paper and he wrote it down and I put the piece of paper in my pocket and that was what led me to having my first story published, and the interesting thing was I found out later that the name that he gave me was not the name of his editor. He gave me the name of somebody else, and that's somebody else. Turned out to be, you know, a wonderful mentor and bought quite a few stories of mine and it was the luckiest thing ever.

If I hadn't reached my my hand out, this never would've happened, ever. 

Zibby: Well, that's not luck. That was you making a decision and going after something. 

Marian: But actually, here's the funny part of this story also. So some, I don't know, maybe weeks, months went by and I was already working on this particular story and there was an editorial meeting and all the editors were all the way, all the way down the end of the hall.

And Nora Ephron, uh, worked there as, as an editor and her assistant, who by the way, graduated from, from Yale, had to leave early, and so they were having this meeting and Nora was at the end of the hall and she yelled out to me, Marian, make sure you answer my phone if it rings, although I couldn't possibly have gotten there in time 'cause uh, her office was all the way down.

Uh, I can picture this perfectly and to the right. So since all the editors were busy doing things, I just decided I was gonna work on this story of mine. So I was completely involved in working on this story. Little did I know I was, that I was gonna sell it to the New Yorker and all of a sudden, I guess her phone was ringing, but I didn't even hear it.

I wasn't paying any attention. I was only paying attention to my story. She was, she, I can still see her. She was at the end of the hall and she was yelling, Mary, I told you to answer my phone and sorry. I felt a little bit bad, but there was no way I could have gotten there in time anyway. But then that story, and that was the first story, you know, that I ever sold.

And the crazy thing also is that because, um, I was a slush pile reader, I knew how easy it was. I did it for a red book also, and I knew how easy it was just to read, you know, the first paragraph and you say, Hmm, this isn't very good. Then you go to the end and you're saying, Hmm. Sorry. And so I can't even believe I did this.

I wrote a letter to this editor whose name I had at the New Yorker and I said, um, please, um, show me the respect, you know, that I try to do for Flesh Pile, and please read my story all the way to the end, and so, here's the letter that I got and it said, not only have we given your story a thorough reading, we have decided to take it for the magazine.

Zibby: Aw. 

Marian: And it was, and actually you'll be interested to hear is because we were living, my husband and I were living in Cambridge 'cause he was a student at Harvard Law School and I was at a job that I was not happy with and he came home. Uh, from class and he went to the mailbox and took this letter out and I wasn't there to take it out myself out of the mailbox 'cause I was at at work and he called me on the phone and he said.

You have a letter from the New Yorker here, why would they be writing to you? And then I, and then the two of us said, oh, maybe they're writing to tell me that they lost the story that I sent them, you know? So then he opens up the letter, he said, can I open it? And I said, yes. He opened it and I was in utter state of shock.

Zibby: Wow. Okay. Let's fast forward then to, I don't know how to tell you this. How did it end up taking 20 years? What went wrong with the prior drafts and how did you find your way through?

Marian: Oh, yes. What happened was, I, it's, it's interesting, at the time that I started writing it, I was a mother of teenagers and so, um, someone in my family at the time was in a rock and roll band, didn't want to, uh, go to college, and so that was one of the things that I, I had, you know, in the judge's life, and, um, I guess it just wasn't, it just didn't work. Um, the judge originally was a man, um, was my friend who was a judge, was a man, and that over the years I began to understand that it would be much more interesting to have her, uh, as a woman, I just, whatever.

Oh, and uh, the Holocaust survivor. Was a man also, and I changed it to a woman. I just, I just couldn't get it right. I just couldn't, and then, as I said, it's over 20 years. 1999, that's when this started, and somehow I think, you know, um, in your own work that, you know, it's just not working. It's just not. Um, and so, but I couldn't bear to just throw it away 'cause I had so many notes about the various cases, you know, that, um, uh, appeared in the, in the courtroom and I put so much effort into it and it just, it meant a lot to me.

But. I wrote seven other books. 

Zibby: Wow. Well, I found the cases really interesting and it, they're almost a framing device, right? For that, for the intimate story between this couple and what happens when one person's mind begins to go and the other has to sort of mourn the loss in real time and figure out how to.

Deal with it. You also did such a lovely job of not only describing it from Rachel's point of view, but also what it felt like to be in it. And you have this one paragraph. Do you mind if I read this? 

Marian: Uh, sure. 

Zibby: Rachel touched by Jonathan's apparent need to keep the photographs close to him, leaves them there in the suitcase where he packed them, no questions asked.

The Uber driver who will ferry them to the airport is texting Rachel to let them know he's arrived. They're all set to walk out with their luggage. When Jonathan realizes he can't find his house keys. He and Rachel take a quick look in the obvious places, the top of his dresser, the all-purpose shelf beneath the large mirror hanging on the wall in the foyer.

And lastly, the kitchen counters. Jonathan seems unduly distressed, but actually what does it matter? Rachel tells him they'll be away for a week. And what do they need his keys for anyway? She has hers right here in her handbag, and they'll find his when they return from their trip, but he's clearly still upset.

Opening and closing all the kitchen cabinets and drawers, slamming them shut in frustration. I'm such an asshole. She hears him say under his breath, just as she is reminding him that they need to leave straight away if they don't wanna miss their flight.

Oh. 'cause he's not just searching for the keys, he's searching for himself.

And this is a, a symbol of, of what's to come. 

Marian: Absolutely, absolutely. I, um, again, you know, he's much younger than my mother. My father was 95 and my mother was 90, but even so, it was very painful to see how they had changed and it was very, very painful. And they actually lived in the same building, uh, that my husband and I lived, and I moved them there so that I would, you know, be able to, um, go upstairs and check they had a live in, unfortunately, uh, care. Well, wonderful, wonderful caregiver. But it was very, very painful. Very painful, and um, it seems like unfortunately, uh, this dementia seems to be this epidemic somehow. 

Zibby: Mm-hmm. 

Marian: I keep reading about it all the time, but I, you know, witness this with my own eyes and ears and, um, never to be forgotten.

Uh ever, so, and it was interesting because, um. My, one of my grandmothers, I had never seen this before, never seen dementia before and one of my grandmothers who, um, she was a widow from the time she was 40, and she just did everything absolutely on her own. You know, even when she was in her nineties, I think she was doing, you know, her taxes and doing her laundry and everything. So it was astounding to me to see this, you know, in my own mother and father. I just never expected it, and I guess my idea of what, you know, uh, elderly people were like was my grandmother. 

Zibby: Mm-hmm. 

Marian: Who just took care of everything, and I don't know, in retrospect, I don't know how she managed. Um, she had two wonderful daughters, but for the most part she relied on herself and only herself, and, um, it's pretty wonderful actually. 

Zibby: Well, I'm, I'm sorry you had to go through that with your parents. That must be very painful and I'm glad you found a creative outlet to, to put it in. Do you find that it helped you process all that? 

Marian: Yeah, I think it probably did and interestingly, my mother and father died within six weeks of each other, so that, um, my mother died first, she was 90 and so my father, um, never really had to mourn her loss because we didn't tell him, and actually here's a good this's, an interesting detail, so the wonderful caregiver they had, um, she didn't want my father, um, to figure out that my mother was no longer in the bed beside him. So she blew up some balloons and she put them in the bed next to my father, put the balloons up, you know on the pillow and um, I remember I was, that's another thing that I was astounded by, but, um, I, I mean, she was wonderful. It shows you what, what a terrifically empathetic, you know, caregiver she was. But it was, it was quite, quite something. Uh, I have to say, there was some very, you know, there are comic moments, there are lots of comic moments in this, and I, you know, I try to, uh, to write about them in my, in my, my own work. 

Zibby: And tell me a little more about the Holocaust survivor plot line. You mentioned they were friends of your family, but Sophia in the book, um, you know, didn't wanna talk about it very much, occasionally talked about Auschwitz and, um, there's a shiva in the book later. Tell me a little more about that.

Marian: Right. Well, so, uh, my friends were, you know, able to talk about, you know, their mother and mother-in-law, and I really appreciated, you know, knowing that, um, you know, she wasn't this, you know, sentimental figure, you know, she was, um, a very strong person, not sentimental in the least, and, um, it made, it made sense to me that in order to go on, you know, after the terrible, terrible things, you know, that she had experienced and, and witnessed, um, you know, just when I, when I thought about them, it's just so, just awful.

And interestingly and coincidentally, um, the judge, uh, my friend, the judge who let me sit with him, his father, his, his parents were Holocaust survivors. That they were, I believe they were in the Warsaw Ghetto and they were able to come to the United States, thankfully. But his, my friend's father's twin sisters, who I think were 13 years old, died in Auschwitz.

And you know, I never forgot that, and that's probably where the idea came from, all those, all those years ago. But one of the things that I was, I was thinking about is that I remember my, my mother telling me this, that when I was like two years old, um, we lived, um, in a neighborhood in Queens that had a lot of Holocaust survivors, and since I was only two, of course, I didn't know anything about this. My mother told me this years later, she told me that there was, um, a kosher butcher in the neighborhood where she used to go, I don't know, maybe once a week or so, and maybe the first time she went there with me and I was in my stroller and the butcher began to weep at the sight of me because it turned out I looked like his little girl who died in the Holocaust. And so, you know what my mother did? This is kind of a comic part of the story. I know I get all choked up when I think about this. My mother used to, when she would go to the butcher, she would leave me outside the store in my stroller.

And in today's work, she didn't wanna upset the butcher. In today's world, she would've been arrested, right. For abandoning her child. But I guess in those days it was perfectly safe. But when she told me this, you know, she told me years and years later, and, you know, I never, I never forgot it. It just meant so much to me.

And today, giving everything that's going on. 

Zibby: Mm-hmm. It's terrible. 

Marian: Yeah. These things may even, even more. I was wondering if you were all interested to hear, um, when I was, um, a young mother, you know, and a mother of, you know, young children and how I managed to 

Zibby: Oh, yes. 

Marian: To write. 

Zibby: Yes. Do tell me that. Yes.

Tell me, tell me your, uh, tell me that please. 

Marian: So, interestingly. I don't understand how I did it, but I was more, I was the most productive I'd ever been when my children were young. And I think I had five books published in seven years. 

Zibby: Oh my gosh. 

Marian: And I just bump to another to another. And so I had a babysitter from, you know, 10 in the morning till two o'clock in the afternoon.

And um, and I had a wonderful babysitter. Nanny, I guess you'd call it in today's world. So I had a very limited amount of time, and we were living long time ago in a one bedroom apartment, believe it or not, with two kids and a cat. So what I did was I did this all the time, um, in the beginning when my, so my son was in school.

So that was good. He didn't, I didn't have to pick him up until three, three o'clock. Right. So the babysitter was there and every day when she would come, she would say to my daughter, who became a writer herself, by the way, let's go downstairs and do the laundry. And so she then there was no la, maybe there was no laundry to be done, you know, five days a week, certainly.

And then I would sort of walk them to the elevator and then say, Hey, thanks for doing the laundry. And then I would run back. Inside the apartment and I had a lock put on the bedroom door because if I didn't, you know, my wonderful little girl would've opened the door. I'm sure. So I had a lock on the door and I stayed in there and.

If I ever needed to use the bathroom, I had to slip a note under the door and hope that the, and hope that the, you know, the babysitter would see it. 

Zibby: Oh my gosh. Well, what you, the lengths you go to, to get things done as a mom, that's, 

Marian: I know, I know. No, it's really true. And one of the things was, I, I never, I never forgot this, that my daughter, who had actually was very tiny, is still is small today.

She had tiny little hands. And she had had a play date going on in the other room while I'm working, and she slipped her hands under the door and I could sit there, there, there was enough room between the bottom of the door, you know, on the floor. And I saw her hands coming through and I heard her friend, little, you know, 3-year-old friend say her, what's your mom doing in there?

And my daughter's response was, she's a typer. As in typing Anna. 

Zibby: Aw. 

Marian: Um, although I wrote everything by, by hand, everything with a, with a pen, believe it or not. But yeah, it's true what moms have to go through in order to amazing things done. 

Zibby: Oh my gosh. Well, Maryanne, thank you so much.

Thank you for this really elegant portrait of an aging couple and what people go through for each other, what love looks like as, as we all shapeshift through time and, uh, and the impact also of course, of society and all of the, the many cases that you brought to our attention. So thank you so much for this lovely, lovely story.

Marian: I thank you very, very much for this opportunity, and I hope I haven't said too much. 

Zibby: Not at all. Not at all. Thank you. Okay. Bye-bye. 

Marian: Bye-bye.