Larry McMurtry returns to the mythic West and spins a thoughtful and touching tale.
A new assault on Texas’ most cherished myth proves that the Battle of the Alamo is far from over.
Twenty years after the first Earth Day celebration, environmentalists are once again trying to get Texans interested in saving the planet. There are good reasons why they may once again fail.
Five beautifully produced books explore the Americas, from anonymous folk art to the great muralists, from revolutionary heroes to a Texas ranching patriarch.
Larry McMurtry explores the far side of forty in his new novel.
Dallas novelist C. W. Smith takes a long, hard look at a subject with a painful history.
Dave Hickey’s fine short stories are enhanced by the scarcity; Texas expatriate William Humphrey takes on the Cherokees’ Trail of Tears.
New fiction takes the reader on forays into Louisiana swamps, excursions into smoke-filled Austin honky-tonks, and down life’s highway with a lady trucker
Dan Jenkins’ latest takes a tough-cookie journalist out of a thirties movie and puts her into a chase through Depression-era Fort Worth; Sarah Glasscock populates her fictional Alpine with a cast of real characters.
In Anything for Billy, Larry McMurtry trounces the Western myth; Frederick Barthelme, in Two Against One, casts a cold eye on a self-desdtructing marriage.
It’s this simple: people’s teeth should not chatter in the summer.
Turn off the AC, stop pretending you’re a reptile, welcome the whooping cranes back. It’s fall!
Tastes in livestock are as whimsical as tastes in fashion. This year petite is in.
After extensive taste tests, our reporter concludes that the best lamb is to be found in our own back yard.
Okay, so photos of cute kids in fields of bluebonnets aren’t great art. That’s not the point at all.
Working alone at his home in East Texas, Fox Harris is divinely inspired to create towering, fanciful sculptures out of junk.
The cattle are dying, the grass is gone, the ranchers are selling their land. The center of Texas is in a drought that may be the worst in a hundred years.
A meditation on the radioactive peril in Juarez.
You don’t have to go to the country or the zoo to see wild animals; there are lizards in downtown buildings, gators in the creeks, and deer in the parking lots.
In five hours on icy roads the author covered 35 miles and discovered the perils of driving in a state that is unprepared for real winter.
Damming the Rio Grande; cruising the streets of Houston; building the nation's biggest organ; remembering the Alamo.
Texas highways show their age; Houston punks show their colors; foster parents show they care; A&M shows its macaws; cattle ranchers show their breeding.
Meet the ocelot, not as pet, not as fur coat, but in its best role—an elusive remnant of Texas’ wild past.
Meet some of Texas' secular latter-day saints: volunteers.
It looks fragile with its lacy leaves and fragrant flowers. Looks can be deceptive.
Some people look at the Piney Woods and see paper plates and two-by-fours; others see the last great stands of forest in Texas.
They’re ugly little things, but you’ve got to respect them.
What’s behind this year’s rampant display of wild flowers? The birds and the bees, of course.
How you can—and why you should—go camping in the middle of the week.
Houston’s Museum of Fine Art resurrects the genius of Mark Rothko. James Surls tries to answer the tricky question: what is Texas art? Amarillo hosts five pioneers of American photography.