Last night’s Gary Benchley party for recently, author-ially outed Paul Ford was a complete success. Thank you to everyone who was able to make it. And thank you also to Spike Hill in Williamsburg for accommodating us and reminding everyone in attendance why we didn’t hold the
We are so excited about Gary Benchley, Rock Star—the fabulous new book that builds on (and completes!) Paul Ford’s much-loved series on TMN—that, starting today, and through October, we will be giving away one free copy of the book each weekday (thank you, Plume) to the
For a long time readers have asked for a TMN newsletter to keep them apprised of our publishing schedule. They say, “I love TMN, but sometimes I forget to check in! Couldn’t you alert me once a week as to what’s been published? And couldn’t you promise
We’re very pleased to announce the addition of two new contributing writers: Jessica Francis Kane, whose gardening column here at TMN, Notes from the Lawn, is a constant source of distress for those of us who have been branded as plant murderers. You know who we are—you can
I am surrounded by so many to-do lists that it seems like I always have a lot more to do than I’d prefer to believe. In fact, as soon as I cross something off—or, in my case, because I keep my lists in text files on my
On the right side of my computer desktop I have a number of folders, each of which contains files that I have something to do with right now. Previously, these files would stay in my email inbox, which acted as my to-do list. But now the computer desktop folders
Entering day two of working at home, I recognize there are a lot of things that magically happen, without your recognizing it, when you’re regularly going into an office. One of which is coffee: There’s always a pot ready. It may not be fresh (it isn’t), it
It’s almost springtime. Annually it seems like I wait a long time for spring to appear, pining for sunshine, and when it finally arrives it’s over a week later—this being a normal New York spring—and then I spend the summer complaining about the heat. Not 2005,
A frazzled woman struggles to keep her three children from running wild through the magazine shop, and finally screams, “Tyler! Jackson! Monroe! Front and center, now!” A man, presumably her husband, looks on sheepishly, mismatched carry-on bags jumbled at his feet. He looks like a very confused Government teacher.
Dear Eludina and Joel, Thank you for sending your Santa notes to our P.O. Box. We have forwarded them on to Mr. and Mrs. Claus and have also republished them below, in case the elves are reading this right now and can get your wishes to the big man
