Molly Brodak

Molly Brodak was an American poet, writer, and baker. She was the author of the poetry collection A Little Middle of the Night (2010) and the memoir Bandit (2016), which chronicled how her father’s crimes as a bank robber had affected her childhood.

Molly Brodak was born in Michigan and lived much of her life in Georgia. In the summer of 1994, when Molly Brodak was thirteen years old, her father robbed eleven banks until the police finally caught up with him.

In her powerful and provocative memoir, Molly Brodak recounts her childhood and attempts to make sense of her complicated relationship with her father, a man she only half knew. The book came out in 2016 and was critically acclaimed.

In Bandit, Brodak discovers and redefines the fracturing impact her father had on their family.

"The broad conclusion of this book is that broad conclusions are useless in dealing with human nature. We are so irrational, mercurial, and iridescent. I don’t think it’s just my dad, who is hard to pin down. I think we all are," Brodak said.

Besides her memoir, she also wrote a book of poetry, A Little Middle of the Night, which won the 2009 Iowa Poetry Prize.

Brodak's poems appeared widely, including in Granta, Poetry magazine, Fence, Map Literary, New York Tyrant, Diode, New Orleans Review, Ninth Letter, Colorado Review, Bateau, and Hayden's Ferry Review.

Also, Molly Brodak was the founder of the baking company Kookie House. In 2017, she appeared as a finalist on the Great American Baking Show.

The trauma Molly experienced as a child affected her later life, and she suffered from chronic depression.

Molly Brodak died near her home in Atlanta when she was 39. Her husband, Blake Butler, said the cause was suicide.

Photo credit: Gregory Campbell
years of life: 29 March 1980 8 March 2020




María José Evia H.has quoted2 years ago
Dad robbed banks one summer.
María José Evia H.has quoted2 years ago
ut what a marvel to watch him construct bullshit and to finally see it righ
María José Evia H.has quoted2 years ago
would give anything to see the artifacts again—the actual days I spent with my family—to turn them over in my hands and catalogue their facts with my grown-up faculties.
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