You’d think a movie critic might relish passing thumbs-up, thumbs-down judgments on all the latest flicks, but for Fort Worth–based writer-at-large Christopher Kelly, that’s the least interesting part of his job. “Movies and TV and celebrities are more than entertainment,” says the Staten Island native. “I like to figure out how they relate to life and the place they take within culture.” The former film critic for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, Kelly’s work has also appeared in the New York Times, Salon, the Chicago Tribune, Slate, Film Comment, and many other publications. His debut novel, A Push and a Shove, was published by Alyson Books and won the 2008 Lambda Literary Foundation award for Best Debut Novel. His favorite movies, in no particular order, are A Hard Day’s Night, All That Jazz, The Silence of the Lambs, and Nashville.
In his new book, James Magnuson, the head of the Michener Center for Writers at the University of Texas at Austin, skewers (lovingly) the people who attend programs like the one he directs.
It’s supposed to be a bad time for print. Yet new literary journals and small presses keep cropping up in the state’s capital.
Our guide to some idiosyncratic books with local connections for every personality on your gift list.
Matthew McConaughey plays a bigoted man dying of AIDS in Dallas Buyers Club—and proves once again that he should be taken seriously.
The twenty-year-old festival makes the writers the real stars of television and movies.
On “Smart Girls at the Party,” an Austin-based Web series hosted by Amy Poehler, the guests are decidedly nonfamous teenagers talking about their lives.
“Ain’t Them Bodies Saints” is a Texas film in many ways—the setting, the story, the director, and two producers—yet there wasn’t enough incentive to get the filmmakers to shoot the film in their home state.
How should we deal with exotic wild animals in captive settings? Be understanding companions, says Louis Dorfman.
Longview’s Forest Whitaker is having the sort of year that should put him in the Hollywood elite once and for all.
This summer brings another crop of Texas mystery novels, filled with industrious sheriffs, viperish housewives, and the occasional kidnapped orphan.
Six thousand Texas librarians convened in Fort Worth this spring to talk books and to strategize survival amid reduced funding to the state’s libraries.
David Berg’s new memoir, “Run, Brother, Run,” revisits the killing of his older brother, Alan, who was slain outside of Houston in 1968.