My family’s shack on an island in the world’s largest hypersaline lagoon has brought us closer to the fishing—and to one another.
I’ve lived in Uvalde for thirteen years. Our community is more complex and nuanced than media portrayals suggest.
I used to feel ashamed that I didn't speak Spanish. Now I understand why my parents didn't teach me.
A decade after losing one of their own, the former residents of an Austin housing project reckon with their upbringing and the tragedy that changed them.
For fifteen years, my 2005 GMC Sierra has, through good times and bad weather, taken me to every corner of Texas. It might be time to say goodbye, but it won’t be easy.
A writer learns the hard way—the hardest way—that in Texas the answer is: not much.
When a grown-up son visits for the holiday, a mom takes what she can get.
I’ve been the target of censorship and vicious harassment, but my greatest worry is what this trend means for young people who rely on school libraries.
After nearly two years of pandemic life, I didn’t even realize just how much I was craving this release.
Passing through a desolate stretch of North Texas, I set an anchor in the sea of time.
The Fort Davis historian and raconteur knew and loved Texas and its people like no one else.
My divorce made me what I am today.
A final farewell to the Hill Country spread that for more than thirty years meant everything to me and my family.
All across Texas, vandals are searching for ancient treasures by looting Indian campgrounds—including the one on my family’s ranch.
Through sickness and health. Texas humorist John Henry Faulk was my mentor, my idol, my friend.
All I wanted to do was photograph the running of the bulls. I never intended to risk my life.
My father had to have an answer for everything—adultery, spiritual crises, the pigeons defecating in the church gutter. No wonder I didn’t become a preacher. The miracle is that my sister did.
Life is tough all over, but especially for Juniors.
Kids, house, husband—these are the natural enemies of a well-ordered day.
Or, my life as a Texas gardener.
God created Texas, and then He created people who would love it.
For a man and his daughter out for a pleasant day’s fishing, the first sign of danger was a man’s hat floating silently down the stream.
When black militant Lee Otis Johnson got out of prison his old friends welcomed him with open arms. Later, some of them wished they hadn’t.
Here’s how to achieve inner peace, perfect serenity, spiritual calm, and a nice, neat lawn.
You learn one clear and not so very grim lesson by looking death in the face.
“In the League, you’ll run into a little tradition, some noblesse oblige, and a lot of talk about diets, dyslexia, designer dresses, and divorce.”
You can always spot a smoker. He fiddles with matches, his shirt pocket bulges in a tiny rectangle, and fumes emerge from his mouth and nose. But what should we do about him?
How a doctor got hooked on drugs, and how he got off.
Abilene, Abilene, strangest town I’ve ever seen.