Tish Hinojosa
It wasn’t until I moved away that I saw that a lot of art, a lot of what Texas is about, didn’t come only from San Antonio.
It wasn’t until I moved away that I saw that a lot of art, a lot of what Texas is about, didn’t come only from San Antonio.
Larry McMurtry writes about how if you’re forced to leave Texas before you’re ready, before the state lets you go, you always dream of it.
One evening Ike and Tina came over for dinner to my mom and dad’s house. Tina kissed me on the forehead before I went to bed.
Whenever I go to Fort Worth, I try to take a look at the little house where we lived. It’s amazing to think about what we went through.
The case for my Texanness.
My short, happy life as a Catholic schoolgirl.
Tom DeLay versus Ronnie Earle.
The most powerful Texas congressman you’ve never heard of. And a partisan hack. And a bipartisan pragmatist.
The famously crotchety writer’s hate-love relationship with Texas.
Three Austin boys + the hatred and intolerance of their Boys State experience = a lesson in today’s democracy.
That jerkwad talking on his phone in the movie theater.
When people hear I’m a landlady, they tell me I should have my head examined. Yep.
Frozen embryos are destroyed every day in the name of in vitro fertilization. Tell me again what’s so wrong with stem cell research?
The case for flying anywhere I want.
Man, do I hate book clubs.
What happened—and didn’t—when we “fixed” school finance the last time.
My father’s not-so-brief, happy career on horseback.
Why buying a beach house in Galveston may not be the best long-term investment.
The GOP leadership blows it. Again.
My family unplugs (for a few days).
Cormac McCarthy’s latest is bloody good.
The state agency that’s supposed to protect you is a captive of the industry you need protection from.
I’m in love with you, cherry lime.
Rick Perry wins a few rounds.
What high school is really like.
It can be achieved—if you have a surprise wedding.
For starters, even though its self- image is big and brash, it’s the most politically wimpy city in Texas.
The Ben Franklin of McGregor.
Cancer used to be something you died from. Now, thanks to clinical trials, it’s increasingly something you live with.
You’d love my collection of vintage Texas cookbooks. Just don’t ask me to cook from them.
But not without some difficulty—even though I’m a third-generation Mexican American.
Dewhurst versus Craddick: This time, it’s personal.
When did I stop being cool?
No one thinks the Democrats have a chance of winning the 2006 governor’s race. Which is exactly why you shouldn’t write them off.
The awful truth about The Liars’ Club.
Once upon a time I thought it was cool to question God’s existence. Not anymore.
The future is hers to see.
My short, unhappy life as a romance novelist.
Is the Texan who oversaw Abu Ghraib a hero, a villain, or both?
Why Texas could lose the biotech revolution—and end up, once again, an economic also-ran.
The House botches school finance.
The Republicans have made real inroads into winning over Hispanic voters. If that doesn’t freak out the Democrats, I don’t know what will.
Professional suicide times two.
I still remember the moment I discovered that a world existed outside Brownsville. I’ve been trying to explore it ever since.
How I learned to stop worrying and love “blood sport”—or at least understand its appeal.
Why old media hacks like me matter.
Who thinks tuition deregulation stinks? Middle-class kids—and me.
One riot, one Ranger, one much-maligned historian: rereading Walter Prescott Webb.
Even stray cats and dogs need a Gandhi-like figure.
Blondness—natural or otherwise— is even more Texan than Big Hair.