Before joining the Texas Monthly staff, in 1989, executive editor Skip Hollandsworth worked as a reporter and columnist in Dallas and as a television producer and documentary filmmaker. During his tenure with the magazine, he has received several journalism awards, including a National Headliners Award, the national John Hancock Award for Excellence in Business and Financial Journalism, the City and Regional Magazine gold award for feature writing, and the Texas Institute of Letters O. Henry Award for magazine writing.
He has been a finalist four times for a National Magazine Award, the magazine industry’s equivalent of the Pulitzer Prize, and in 2010 he won the National Magazine Award in feature writing for “Still Life,” his story about a young man who, after suffering a crippling football injury in high school, spent the next 33 years in his bedroom, unable to move. The 2011 movie Bernie, which Hollandsworth co-wrote with Richard Linklater, is based on his January 1998 story, “Midnight in the Garden of East Texas.”
The car crash that killed four teenage girls in Tatum last
September is an East Texas version of a Greek tragedy,
one that has forced the tiny town’s residents to address
some of life’s most agonizing questions: When the worst
things happenwhen the most heartbreaking
events come into your life to staywhom do you
blame? Whom should you blame?
To his suburban Dallas neighbors, Todd Becker was a doting husband and devoted father. They had no clue that he led a secret, lucrative life as a safecracker.
The state’s public mental health system was woeful to begin with, and now legislative budget cuts have made it even worse. For thousands of mentally ill kids like Grant Williams, the only place to get treatment is a juvenile prison.
America’s notoriously needy readers certainly doand for the robust health of this publishing genre, they have Dallas in general and Phil McGraw’s agent in particular to thank.
History makes no mention of what was one of the most popular all-female country acts ever. Yet the story of the Goree Girls-inmates who banded together in the forties at Texas’ sole penitentiary for women—is worth a listen.
Good question, and everyone seems to have an answer: To be respected for her accomplishments as a U.S. senator. To help lead the GOP after its Election Day triumph. To be a mom, finally, in her late fifties. To come back home and run for governor—maybe. But, please, no psychobabble.
Why did Clara Harris run over her husband with her Mercedes, then do it again and again? Call it the tragic final chapter in an otherwise amusing storya demented version of Love, American Style starring four unhappy couples and one chatty private investigator.
How did a girl from Harlingen become Houston’s hostess with the mostest? Sweetie, Becca Cason Thrash has always been the life of the party.
Darlie Routier has been on death row for five years now, always insisting that she didn’t kill her sons Devon and Damon. And as her lawyers prepare to head into court yet again, new information about her case raises the possibility that she may have been telling the truth all along.
Pat Green’s fans—and they are legion—love his songs about the joys of Luckenbach and Lone Star beer. His critics—also legion—think his lyrics are trite. But no matter how you feel about him, there’s no denying that he’s the hottest country music act in Texas. And that he has made the state cool again.
The North Texas teenager went missing in the late eighties. For years, no one knew where she was, or even if she was still alive-no one, that is, except a mysterious young woman two thousand miles away.
Psst! Looking to have somebody murdered? You might want to call Gary Johnson, the number one hired killer in Houston. Then again you might not. You see he works for the cops.
Andrea Yates was a quiet, attentive mother with a generous smile who made her kids costumes from grocery sacks and gave them Valentine’s promising “free hugs.” We all know what happened next, but we may never know why.