Prudence Mackintosh is one of a circle of writers closely associated with Texas Monthly. A contributing editor from the magazine’s inception, in 1973, Prudence’s work has continued to appear in its pages for four decades. She gained a loyal following through the years with her observations on social rites of passage for Texas women and her essays on the rearing of three boys. In 1976 she received a Penney-Missouri Award for excellence in lifestyle journalism. Her work has appeared in several national magazines and is frequently anthologized in college writing texts. She is the author of four books: Thundering Sneakers, Retreads, Sneaking Out, and Just As We Were. She co-authored Great American Suburbs: The Homes of the Park Cities. Born in Texarkana, Prudence grew up in the newspaper office of the Texarkana Gazette & Daily News, where her father was the editor and her mother, a reporter, proofreader, and women’s editor. Her older brother became a television journalist. She attended Texarkana public schools and graduated from the University of Texas in 1966. Prudence continues to live in Dallas with her attorney husband. Their three grown sons now live in New York, Los Angeles, and Austin. Each spring semester she and her husband decamp to Austin, where she teaches a nonfiction writing class for Liberal Arts Honors students at UT. She continues to write for Texas Monthly sporadically as a writer-at-large.
Is it any surprise that a toddler who goes to sleep clutching a screwdriver instead of a teddy bear grows into a fourteen-year-old with a passion for motorcycles?
Maybe the mayhem generated by a trio of battling boys is just their idea of brotherly love.
Once kids did their own homework. Now ambitious parents do it for them.
When it comes to the women of my Highland Park reading club, our histories are an open book.
Don’t say this word aloud in polite company if you want to stay on the author’s good side.
What do the city of Lubbock, a defunct restaurant, and a submerged neighborhood have in common? They’re all places in somebody’s heart.
Now that my son is behind the wheel, I can’t decide whether it’s better to ride shotgun or steer clear of him completely.
Leave college application to the kids? Not when other parents hire SAT coaches and speech writers for theirs.
“She taught us, she fed us, she entertained us, and best of all, she wrote down the how-to of Corbitt hospitality in five cookbooks, giving us confidence that the civilizing pleasures of the table were within our reach.”
My father was a hard-hitting newspaperman, but he was also an old softy. That helps explain why until his death two years ago this month, he and I were members of a mutual admiration society.