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Yes, that John Muir. His observations on nature's interconnected systems deeply influenced award-winning chef Dan Barber's new book, The Third Plate.
The collection broadcasts snark, exuberance, lonely earnestness, and minute-by-minute autobiography to a wide, vague audience—much like today's Twitter and Facebook feeds.
Wesleyan's president thinks students question their readings too much. Which raises a few questions ...
If privileged writers keep "writing what they know," marginalized people groups will continue to feel—and be—marginalized.
Matt Freedman scrawled the pages of Relatively Indolent but Relentless as he underwent radiation therapy, with engrossing, surprisingly funny results.
The biggest holding of concrete poetry in the world sits in a Miami duplex, gathered by a couple who initially didn't know what "concrete poetry" was.
A horror in Bruce Wayne's childhood created the Dark Knight. Did a real-life childhood horror create Bruce Wayne?
The largely forgotten first works by Thompson, who will be inducted into the Kentucky Journalism Hall of Fame today, display his descriptive flair—but no fear or loathing.
As much as the genre imagines the future, it also remixes the past—often by envisioning Western-style imperialism visited on the Western world.
Author Linn Ulmann makes the case for the importance of here in "Something happened here."
In his day, performers received little respect for grueling work. Yet the playwright strode the stage for more than 15 years—and then changed the acting profession forever.
The incarcerated may be the Bard's ideal modern audience.
"Surrealism runs through the streets," the Colombian author, who died today at age 87, told The Atlantic in 1973. "Surrealism comes from the reality of Latin America."
A quarter century ago, a young writer broke free of comic-book cliches by using sheer, brave goofiness. If only he, and the rest of the industry, had kept that spirit alive.
Marcus Burke, author of Team Seven and a former college athlete, learned from Carter G. Woodson that teaching yourself is just as important as being taught in the classroom.
Why do so many readers still look down on the genre of Orwell and Atwood?
One truth underlies the sprawling, sometimes contentious, freebie-filled Association of Writers and Writing Programs annual conference: Making a life in literature isn't easy.
Writers overwhelmingly use Orwell's novel to describe the surveillance state—which makes it easy to forget who's really oppressed today.
Maggie Shipstead, author of Astonish Me, looks to Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse as an example of how to speed up and slow down fiction narratives effectively.