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At first glance, belonging to a calligraphy guild or attending a quilting circle may seem like the very definition of apolitical activity. A handful of people gathering in a library conference room…

One of the most formative moments in my adventures in rock ‘n roll occurred when I was around fourteen. I went to a brick and mortar record store at the mall and read the liner notes to Good Charlo…

Feature image: Edward Hopper, Nighthawks, 1942. Oil on canvas, 33 1/8 × 60 in. (84.1 x 152.4 cm). The Art Institute of Chicago, Illinois. Purchased using Friends of American Art fund, 1942.51. Phot…

This first appeared in Lit Hub’s Literary History newsletter—sign up here. In the summer of 1944, news of an exciting new invention made its way to American newspapers. A Hungarian-Argentinian jour…

I discovered magical realism when I was sixteen, the same summer I began a correspondence with my Colombian father. Up to that point, I had lived entirely removed from my birthplace in Colombia. It…

I’m angry at MAGA leaders every day for the lies and manipulation and wreckage they’ve wrought on the very people who voted for them—not to mention the rest of us. I’m angry when I see faith manipu…

London society buzzed with one name that spring: Miss Edgeworth. The year was 1813. The Regency era was in full swing, and the upper class had assembled for the season in a pastel whirl of lace and…

My father didn’t want to know what, if anything, the FBI had on him. Or at least that’s what my mother claimed. But after he died, as I sifted through his United Nations personnel documents and war…

The Center For Fiction welcomed Brandon Taylor, Booker Prize finalist and bestselling author of Real Life and Filthy Animals, back to our stage to celebrate the release of his highly anticipated no…