Our man in Boston talks with writer Ron Rash about his latest book, America’s great regional voices, the high percentage of readers in New Zealand and Australia, and the misery that accompanies putting a novel together, where it’s rather more fun to stick pencils in your eyes.
Continuing our series of randomly calling people around the U.S. to find out what’s going on in their towns, this time we focus on the Olympics—how do folks who come from the same communities as America’s Olympians feel about their star athletes?
After a rape, the world is remade. A story of violence, true love, cars, defeat, madness, the road from New York to Lexington, and the religion that is college basketball. Victory has many faces—some of them just happen to be painted.
A writer takes a two-week journey across the United States—specifically visiting towns named Paris, with a clipboard and a hundred questionnaires—to uncover what Americans really think about the French today.
Tornado season is a distant concept for most people. For some, it’s a scary but known part of life. Then there’s what happens when one of the South’s deadliest storms in history destroys your house.
Hank Williams III blew the doors off country music last fall when he released three ambitious, experimental albums all on the same day. A conversation about tradition, hardcore, and punishment.
An unfinished autobiography and a 1980s biopic turned Frances Farmer, one of the great golden-era stars, into a lobotomized zombie. The main trouble: Frances Farmer wasn’t lobotomized. An investigation to set one of Hollywood’s most convoluted stories straight.
The pictures in Susan Lipper’s series may come from West Virginia, but they could be found off dozens of American byways.
Florida is America’s most-abused state, and Tallahassee its biggest target for bi-coastal writers who pick low-hanging fruit—rednecks, old people—and wouldn’t know an alligator from their elbow. The slander has gone far enough. On behalf of every Tallahussey and T-Town man, let the corrections begin.
New York is supposedly the home of the willful and headstrong, the forthright and brassy—but when a cousin from Nashville rolls into town, everyone else seems meek.
In South Carolina’s beach country, not having air conditioning, nevermind fans, is these days downright strange. A personal memoir of worried grandmothers and infant decapitation.
It’s easy for Yankees to see the South as a swamp, full of evangelist in-breds and Fox-fed yokels, when the media reinforces the stereotype.