it’s just writing on instagram: “best decision I ever made / marrying this one” / now no one is afraid to get drinks with “this one” / he’s “safe” because he married a nerd who thinks / she’s a 19th century aristocrat
On writing into the other meanings of a hometown murder mystery.
The writer on Swedish Nebraska, the lyric essay, and brevity as a superpower.
A two-sided novel and a psychological road narrative, both books explore contemporary culture by channeling iconic literary traditions.
We lived in the constrictive belt of bible-thumpers, but I always wanted my life to unfurl like a beach read, the kind of life that conjures a certain ephemeral pleasure, baked between sand and sun, crashing waves far enough away so their fatal danger only registers as ambiance.
The writer on the artistic and emotional merits of reality TV.
The Restless Souls novelist on reading his reviews, working as a medical equipment tester, and writing responsibly about war and trauma.
at dusk each day i like to think / of all my new friends in different parts / of the city jerking off / running baths / vaping weed getting sober / running their mouths / & reading poetry aloud to one another.
When I was thirteen, two missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints came to the house to follow up on a conversation from the week before with my mother.
The playwright discusses his formative years, rejuvenation of historical material, and how race is coded into theatergoing itself.
The writer of Bunk on American hucksterism, racism, plagiarism, and why we believe what we want to believe.
Reminding us of what should never have been forgotten
In advance of the next installment of his extensive history of New York City, Wallace expounds on the pivotal early years of the twentieth century.
Picture an area the size of Manhattan covered in sand. It rises and falls and disappears.
“I don’t want the kind of career where everything is sensible and safe; I’d rather suffer through the anxiety of wondering where I’m going next than suffer the boredom of dancing in the same safe square.”
Contis explores the construction of myth, place, and masculine identity in the enduring imagery of the American West.
Disaffected drifting in Erika Carter’s Lucky You
Life and death in a mining town in Kevin Canty’s The Underworld