A Writing on Writing essay from the 100th issue. I keep a photograph on my desk that I printed from the internet. It is a candid snapshot, taken at the end of a gathering of black women. It must be… by Jamey Hatley | Mar, 2018

A Southern Journey from the Summer 2018 issue.  I’d often thought of going to Cuba, but in the summer of 2017 I was nearing the end of the first draft of the novel, and it became clear I needed to… by Lucas Loredo | Jun, 2018

An installment in Chris Offutt’s Omnivore column, Cooking with Chris.  Consumption of worms is widespread throughout the world among many disparate cultures, particularly in Canada. (The French confine themselves to eating snails.) This tradition extends to contemporary America, especially with children.… by Chris Offutt | Jun, 2018

A Points South story from the Summer 2018 issue One summer during an electrical storm, Mama Rubie turned off the power in her house and we huddled on the stairs until the weather calmed. One day this will be yours,… by Renee Simms | Jun, 2018

An Omnivore essay by James Dickey, previously unpublished, from the 100th issue. The point I would make here is that so much of the mind is just chucked away, discounted, overlooked, junked. The real use of the imagination begins precisely… by James Dickey | Mar, 2018

An Omnivore essay from the 100th issue.  In the coming skirmishes over the legitimacy of color photography, the image would take on a great symbolic significance. This minor, inexplicable moment—in which a photographer had pondered a light bulb in the… by Will Stephenson | Mar, 2018

A Points South essay from the 100th issue.  New Orleans loves to celebrate and romanticize its French and Spanish influences. But so much of the city’s culture—the food, the music, the dance, Mardi Gras itself—is indebted to the Caribbean. New… by Laine Kaplan-Levenson | Mar, 2018

 A Letter from the Editor, Summer 2018. Sometimes we go on journeys just for fun, and sometimes we go because we have to, even when it’s hard. In our third annual Southern Journeys summer feature, five writers travel far and… by Eliza Borné | Jun, 2018

A poem from the Spring 2018 issue. I know we are happy To hold them in our arms      Watching  Them squizzle by Nikki Giovanni | Mar, 2018

In performance, Edgar looks like the child of his stories. He cocks his head and raises his eyes slowly, like a boy caught delivering a Valentine. His hands he keeps close, sometimes turning his wrists outwards at the hips, sometimes tying his long, pale fingers together and pressing them to his huddled body.

During the colicky first weeks following the birth of our son, Beckett, my wife and I took turns rising in the night to get him back to sleep. Without recourse to breast milk or the pacifying whispers Emily floated into his burning little ears, I often resorted to dancing him around the living room of our termite-infested rental on Capitol Hill, all the while singing whatever lyrics I could call to mind.

For whatever reason, the one song that presented itself wholesale was “I’m No Stranger to the Rain,” the cantering Sonny Curtis number that Keith Whitley took to the top of the country music charts in 1989.
Like many of Foster’s compositions, “Oh! Susanna” was a black-face minstrel song. It was his breakthrough hit as a songwriter, a song that surely would have been a number one single if such a measurement had existed in the mid-nineteenth-century. The song quickly spread all over the country through its many publications and permutations on sheet music and as traveling minstrel troupes all over the country thrilled crowds with the tale of long-distance, lost, confused love, others began adapting Foster’s irresistible melody for their own purposes.
“Take it off now!” he said, and put the gun back against my neck. Now I had no control. Somehow, I felt as if I’d had a distinct advantage, some power, in being smarter than them. Even if I had been a hundred times smarter than both of them put together, once that gun was back at my neck, I realized I had no power whatsoever.

An installment of Big Chief Tablet.

The Bravest Man In The Universe, Bobby Womack’s first album of original material since 1994, is already being heralded as a late-career triumph, a classic comeback tale of aging soul singer being rejuvenated by a younger producer.
Whether it was with The Band or, in the last decade of his life, the Levon Helm Band, Helm was always happy out of the spotlight, off to the side and out of the way, grinning, laughing, dancing, and drumming away behind his kit. American Son shows off a different Levon: Levon as front man, star, singer.

An installment of Big Chief Tablet.

An imaginary autobiography—based on facts!—of the sublime Carroll Cloar, Arkansas artist. 

Road-trippin’ with a great American architectural photographer.