In his new memoir, Acid for the Children, the Red Hot Chili Peppers bassist exhibits virtuosic vulnerability.
She Said, Catch and Kill, and other new books tell stories of monsters brought to account. But their defining mood is not exultation—it’s terror.
In Home Work, the legendary actor comes to terms with an acting career she couldn’t always control.
The Blondie singer’s memoir, Face It, wryly recounts making the most of being ogled.
Chanel Miller’s memoir, like the show Unbelievable, is a reminder of the painful alchemy that turns trauma into art.
By revisiting their teen years, the rock duo’s new memoir, High School, and album, Hey, I’m Just Like You, dismantle cultural clichés about adolescence.
My love and respect for the craft of writing fuel my commitment to teaching it. But it was a long time before I could envision academia including someone like me.
What Do We Need Men For? is overwhelming. It is exhausting. That is the point.
When his 2-year-old daughter died, Jayson Greene turned to writing to survive his grief, and to Dante’s Inferno for words to describe it.
In her new book, Women’s Work, the journalist Megan Stack grapples with how she’s been able to advance in her career at the expense of other women’s labor.
In the late ’70s, Carolyn Forché traveled to El Salvador on the eve of its civil war, knowing little about the country. Crucially, she understood how little she knew.
In Rock Needs River, Vanessa McGrady tells of how she invited her daughter's biological parents into her own home, and everyone had to live with the consequences.
The senator’s new book shows the difficulty of translating short-form virality into a substantive text.
From Lauryn Hill to Cameron Post to Tara Westover, 2018 repeatedly asked the question, What does it mean to teach a person to surrender?
In a new memoir and solo album, the Wilco bandleader supplants the “tortured artist” trope with the universality of suffering.
For years, deadly terrorist strikes in France were widely treated as isolated incidents. That changed forever in 2015.
The former first lady’s new memoir is notable for the revealing glimpses it offers into private moments of fear and frustration.
In her graphic memoir, Drawn to Berlin, Ali Fitzgerald uses art to illuminate the human dimensions of a situation often sketched in statistics.
Having lived a hard life, the late author refused to erase her female characters—or the brutality that deranges them.
A graphic adaptation of the teenage Holocaust victim’s diary calls into question which avenues are best for retelling painful, complicated histories.