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.”
A real-life G.I. Joe, Master Sergeant James Coons hardly seemed like a candidate for post-traumatic stress disorder. But when his demons got the best of him, there was nothing anyone could do—not that anyone really tried.
On screen and off, his affect is that of someone who should not be disturbed: a crotchety, contentious, impatient, and thoroughly genuine West Texan. That’s what makes his characters—including his latest, the lead in The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada— so believable.
Homecoming in the town of Spur means football, the crowning of a queen, parades, pep rallies, barbecue, a bonfire, and so much more.
The feds knew him as a prolific bank robber. But the bearded man who eluded them for so long was not who they imagined him to be. And absolutely no one expected the story to end the way it did.
She shares that curious fact with you for posterior’s— er, posterity’s sake. What you really need to know about the shopgirl turned shoplifter is that her rehabilitation is continuing apace atop Dallas’ social heap. And thanks to a new reality show about her life, there’s no end in sight.
The L.A. life of a girl from Burleson (or, You can take Kelly Clarkson out of Texas …).
The Panhandle DA known statewide for his zeal in busting drug dealers and abusers turns out to have been an addict. Prosecutor, heal thyself.
Have you heard the one about the Mormon polygamists who descended on a tiny West Texas town? It would be funny if it wasn’t so serious. (Okay, it’s pretty funny too.)
How a woman who sold sex toys in Burleson became public enemy number one and survived the bad buzz.
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.