Gary Cartwright received his B.A. in journalism from Texas Christian University. He has had a distinguished career as a newspaper reporter and as a freelance writer, contributing stories to such national publications as Harper’s, Life, and Esquire. He was a senior editor at Texas Monthly for 25 years until his retirement in 2010 at age 76. Cartwright was a finalist for a National Magazine Award in 1986 in the category of reporting excellence. He has been the recipient of a Dobie-Paisano fellowship and has won the Texas Institute of Letters Stanley Walker Award for Journalism and the Carr P. Collins Award for nonfiction. He won the 1989 Press Club of Dallas Katie Award for Best Magazine News Story. He also won the 2005 Headliner Club of Austin award for best magazine story. Cartwright has written several books, including Blood Will Tell, Confessions of a Washed-up Sportswriter, Dirty Dealing, and Galveston: A History of the Island, published in 1991. He has co-written three movie scripts, J. W. Coop (Columbia, 1972); A Pair of Aces (CBS-TV, 1990), which he also co-produced; and Pancho, Billy and Esmerelda, which he co-produced for his own production company in 1994. In addition, he co-produced Another Pair of Aces for CBS. Blood Will Tell was filmed by CBS-TV as a four-hour miniseries in 1994. In 1998 his book, HeartWiseGuy, was published.
For longtime TCU fans, the Rose Bowl was a reminder of being snubbed in the school’s heyday. With the victory over Wisconsin, the Horned Frogs have shaken off the ghosts of the past—and taken their rightful place on the national stage.
Checking in on the long, slow, quiet, thoughtful, weird, brilliant, often-interrupted, never-compromised career of John Graves.
If you’re a half shell fanatic like me, you’ll be just as alarmed as I was to hear that oystermen in Galveston Bay—the source of some of the country’s most delicious mollusks —are still struggling to make it after Hurricane Ike.
It took me half my life to figure out that most of what I thought I knew about J. Frank Dobie was wrong.
Bud Shrake’s letters to friends back in Texas during his years in New York show the late novelist in all his ribald, freewheeling glory. And never more alive.
The tragic case of Lloyd and Kim Yarbrough raises an old question: Why doesn’t the decision to die belong to the person who is dying?
The world’s first hamburger was served in Athens, Texas, no matter what Mr. Cutlets says.
Sure, sure, the newspaper business is dying, and this is bad for freedom, accountability, and democracy itself. But worst of all is what’s happened to sportswriting.
Happy Texas Independence Day! Read five stories about our state's history, including this piece about the battlegrounds of Texas, which tell an incredible story of struggle, sorrow, triumph, and terror.
The very spot where William Barrett Travis wrote his famous “victory or death” letter is a Ripley’s Haunted Adventures. And other ways gross commercialization has desecrated the Alamo’s sacred battleground site.
Die-hard fans of America’s Team are debating that very question as we speak—and also wondering if the kid from Wisconsin with the buxom distraction can take them to the Super Bowl any faster than, say, Gary Hogeboom did.
Forty years ago, Pete Dominguez and his Mexican restaurants were the toast of Dallas. Now he’s alone, broke, and nearly forgotten.
The Texas State Cemetery, home to the final resting places of the celebrated and the notorious, is a walk through time, revealing all that is great, courageous, tragic, pompous, and absurd about Texas.
Roger Clemens may be worthy of the Congressional testimony Hall of Shame, but should we really be so freaked out about his supposed steroid use?