The instinct to applaud boot-strapping and the comeback kid is as American as apple pie. So why does schadenfreude make us feel so good?
A youthful pledge to become an essayist gets lost.
Twice a year, a group of friends gathered in a coal-mining pocket of Pennsylvania—friends in their twenties with fragile identities, who didn’t know yet what would happen.
Dreams of a Matalin-Carville romance tempt a young Washington journalist covering the death of a dictator to cross party lines in pursuit of love.
Two men, separated by more than 150 years, discover the folly of attempting Western-style capitalism in Micronesia.
The only thing worse than Valentine’s Day is a crappy Valentine’s Day. A handful of TMN writers and editors dish (anonymously) on their worst dates—crying men, rugby brawls, and a dislocated sacroiliac joint.
When illness erases the fine line between love and obsession.
A newborn wavers between life and something else. For the father, a walk in the woods elucidates the struggle between nature and nurture.
When dementia gets its grip on a father who always loved slasher movies, a daughter struggles to hold on—if only to the ghost of recognition.
When a photographer reviews 35 years of unposed family pictures—unexpected moments, children growing older—a symphony appears.
Epistolary relationships leave behind plenty of evidence. But a man is always more complicated than his paper trail—especially when he’s your father, who walked out one day.
The internet is an unrelenting enabler of our flaws and an unforgiving archive of them—so should you google your new love interest, or hold off? And what if they google you first?