Essays

The Afterlife of Detritus: MacArthur Park

The Afterlife of Detritus: MacArthur Park By Judith Freeman, Anthony Hernandez  Air Light Magazine / Neighborhoods Project / July 25, 2021 1. The first time I went to see him in his apartment in MacArthur Park, it was an April night in 1985. I didn’t really know the neighborhood; I was living on the other

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The Strange Promise of a Genuine Squirrel Coat

The Strange Promise of a Genuine Squirrel Coat By Judith Freeman / Published March 25, 2017 – Los Angeles Review of Books I ONCE OWNED a dress I loved so much that every time I wore it, I felt like an actress in a French New Wave film. The dress was red, a perfect Titian red,

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Utah Public Radio – Interview – Podcast

Utah Public Radio – Interview – Podcast At twenty-two, Judith Freeman was working in the LDS Church-owned department store in the Utah town where she’d grown up. In the process of divorcing the man she had married at seventeen, she was living in her parents’ house with her four-year old son, who had already endured

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Barnes & Noble – “TOP OF THE LONG LIST”

Barnes & Noble – “TOP OF THE LONG LIST” Barnes & Noble picks The Latter Days for “Top of the Long List” in their “Our Week in Review” For June 24, 2016. Overview: At twenty-two, Judith Freeman—born and raised in a Mormon community—had abandoned her faith, but found herself working in the church-owned department store

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Salt Lake City Weekly: Essential Picks for Tuesday June 28

Salt Lake City Weekly: Essential Picks for Tuesday June 28 TUESDAY 6.28Judith Freeman: The Latter DaysMemoir may be a common literary form, and around these parts, it may seem that there’s a new memoir every day or so about growing up in—and often alienation from—the LDS Church. But there’s a uniquely contemplative quality to Judith

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L.A.’s Rampart District Gave Me the Life I Wanted to Lead

Lafayette Park Anthony Hernandez and Judith Freeman -1986 Novelist Judith Freeman Reflects on Her Three-Decades-Long Relationship With Her Neighborhood By Judith Freeman | September 21, 2015 When I first moved into the Rampart neighborhood of Los Angeles in 1986, the gunfire down the alley outside our bedroom often kept me awake at night—not just the pop-pop

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