Andrew Goldstein

I grew up in a world that no longer exists: The Bronx 1947-1960. My father cut ladies' dresses in the garment center while moonlighting as a bookie and smuggler of tax free cigarettes. My mother was the legal secretary to the top theatrical lawyer in New York. Both gambled compulsively.

When I was 10 I started taking bets for my father while he was at work. My almost-blind-and-deaf grandmother and I would fight for the phone. When she answered, she scribbled down what she thought she had heard on a Wesson-oil stained napkin. My father would be furious: he couldn't read her illegible writing, or make sense of who placed which bets or how much they were for.

I always wanted to be a writer. In my early twenties I was selected as a fellow to the Bread Loaf Writer's Conference. My nonfiction book, Becoming: An American Odyssey, was published by Saturday Review Press. To make a living I worked various day jobs: tree planter and assistant librarian; organic orange and olive farmer; school bus driver; Zamboni driver; editor; stock broker; power transformer tube winder; and tennis pro. For the past thirty some-odd years I've been a custom builder in the Boston area.

I've been writing The Bookie's Son on and off for forty years. While managing the custom building company where I work and raising my two children, I gave up writing for a couple of decades. When the children didn't need me to coach their soccer teams anymore I returned to writing. The Bookie's Son, based on my childhood, was still the story I wanted to tell.

I'm slowly transitioning out of construction and becoming a full-time writer. I play competitive table tennis three times a week, mentor a ten-year old boy every other week, and take care of my grandson one day a week. He fills that day with joy.