#jesse-katz

#jesse-katz

"The bottom line is trust - vouching that an article is credible and worthy of a reader's time. It all comes down to that."

Catherine Lacey reads her story 'Rate Your Happiness,' from the April 13, 2026, issue of the magazine, highlighting her narrative style and thematic depth.

On this site birthed in 1963 lays lain layed lies the location original whereabouts around here of the Berkeley Copywriter's Guild, A place where word geeks were often found with their smug understanding of grammar and their tiny worn-down blue pencils marking up all the fun words for boring ones.

Louise Pearl's one-woman show Pass the Nails and Shame The Devil recounts the experience of her family's ordeal building their own house amid Oakland's 1980s crack epidemic as her strong-willed, Louisiana-born mother and gather a motley crew of men to make this dream home into a reality.

It's kind of a little local community hang spot as much as it is a retail store. You could buy analog cameras or photo books at the shop. If you're like me, you could browse in order to motivate yourself to dig your old film camera out of the closet. Or you could just hang out, talk art, and make friends.

Like us, you may feel paralyzed in the face of the relentless images of violence we see every day. Suffering children, military occupations, the devastated neighborhoods, the cries of parents mourning their dead-these scenes haunt us. Whether it is happening in Palestine or Minneapolis, we are witnesses to suffering, and that witnessing takes a heavy toll. Clearly, the devastating situations in the West Bank and Gaza and in Minneapolis differ

"Race Against Time: A Reporter Reopens the Unsolved Murder Cases of the Civil Rights Era" quickly became one of my favorite nonfiction books written by a journalist. I appreciated how he showed the grueling, day-to-day work local journalism requires, and how many layers of people fought him in revealing the despicable work of the Ku Klux Klan.

In 1968, a "good girl" is squeaky clean. She studies hard, follows the rules, gets into college and doesn't embarrass her parents. She doesn't lie or drink or do drugs. She doesn't participate in the Summer of Love or experiment with any of its alternative ways of living. She definitely doesn't have premarital sex, get pregnant and upend everyone's meticulously laid plans for her future.

One is " Omniocracy," a sweeping work of political philosophy decades in the making, proposing a new ethical foundation for society that rejects moral absolutes and instead grounds moral consideration for all beings in science and policy. In Laws' view, traditional political systems are inherently prejudiced: they work for humans only, excluding the vast majority of sentient beings. An omniocracy, she argues, would account for all living beings as constituents whose interests must be weighed in the decisions that affect them.

Elie, I take your point that you think it's both sides, but let me just say the data, respectfully, disagrees with you. According to government and independent analysis, since 2001, 85% of political deaths have been from right-wing extremists. There was a study posted on the DOJ about right-wing extremism being one of the biggest issues in America. Of course, it quietly disappeared when Donald Trump came into office, submitted Cross.

It was a bonnie morning 410 million years ago in what are now the Rhynie chert fossil beds in Scotland. The mists had begun to lift and swirl over the landscape, where hot springs burbled, lichen papered over rocks, and worms slithered as only worms can. Here, almost all life stayed close to the ground. The second-tallest organism at the time, a plant called , grew to a few centimeters at most.

"My general view here," the CBS News editor-in-chief wrote in a memo before shelving the now-infamous 60 Minutes report on El Salvador's CECOT concentration camp, "is that we do our viewers the best service by presenting them with the full context they need to assess the story. In other words, I believe we need to do more reporting here." Expediency, personal prerogative, servility to power, all smuggled under the cover of journalistic scruple:

This devastating début novel takes the form of an oral history about a tragedy that shatters a family. At its heart is a couple who arrived in the U.S. in the late nineteen-nineties as refugees from Afghanistan. They prospered, and brought up four children in an affluent suburb in Virginia. Rotating testimonies from people they know-family friends, a cousin, lawyers-offer theories about what led to the novel's central catastrophe.

Going back to Renee Good, the idea that there was an ICE agent that was filming while involved in this life-or-death-you know, supposedly for him-situation, right? You're claiming that, but at the same time you're using your phone to document this.

In addition to writing fiction, you're a staff writer for the and a screenwriter. How do you think of your career? I think of myself as a storyteller. I'm nosy, so once I'm telling a story, I want to know what happens. I do find, with fiction, I can't toggle in and out of it. It's like acting, where you have to stay with that character, in that world.

It was once commonly understood that fiction was in the wisdom business, that it offered not only aesthetic pleasure but also moral improvement. This function of literature was not tough to spot. One of the first English novels was Samuel Richardson's 1740 work, Pamela: Or, Virtue Rewarded-a title not meant ironically. Through the 19th century, many authors turned directly to the reader with philosophical and social (if sometimes ironic) commentary: "It is a truth universally acknowledged"; "It was the best of times"; "All happy families are alike." For readers not up to the challenge of full George Eliot novels, her enterprising publisher compiled a volume of Eliot's many Wise, Witty, and Tender Sayings, in order to more broadly distribute "a morality as pure as it is impassioned."

Yes, because I grew up under Mao's rule and fear was ingrained in our hearts. Today I try to overcome it, not feel it and move on with my life, but it's still there.

Whatever you might think you're going to get from the familiar setup of Jennette McCurdy's Half His Age (a lonely high-school girl in Anchorage begins an extremely questionable sexual relationship with her teacher), any presumptions are dispelled from the very first page. When Waldo, the teenage narrator of the novel, observes her boyfriend's "slimy tongue that loop-de-loops over and over like a carnival ride, mechanical and passionless," she's setting a tone: irreverent, graphic, bilious.