Journalist Donna Minkowitz realizes 25 years later she was victim to her own internalized homophobia and ignorance on trans issues when she broke the story of Brandon Teena, subject of Boys Don’t Cry.
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The Danger of Befriending Celebrities
Once upon a time, nightlife journalist Michael Musto didn’t set the strongest boundaries with the boldfaced names he covered.
‘That Girl is Going to Get Herself Killed’
Krista Diamond | Longreads | November 2022 | 16 minutes (4,342 words) In 2012, I was working at a hotel in Glacier National Park when a man I’d just met invited me for a day of tubing and drinking beer on the river. Little did I know, I would nearly drown in the rapids. But […]
Love Song to Costco
“In the great halls of Costco, two of our greatest fears are assuaged — that of not having enough, and that of not being enough.”
The Top 5 Longreads of the Week
This week, we’re sharing stories from Donna Minkowitz, Stephen Rodrick, Karla Cornejo Villavicencio, Nadia Berenstein, and Shanna Baker.
On Watching Boys Play Music
“With a drink in my hand and earplugs responsibly in place, I’m very aware that I’ve spent more than half my life essentially standing in the same spot: off to one side of the stage (close but not too close), eyes forward, shifting weight from foot to foot.”
‘I Was Trapped Forever In This Present Tense’: Carmen Maria Machado on Surviving Abuse
“She was always afraid of my voice. That was the defining factor of our relationship — fear of what I would say and write and do. She’s afraid of … the narrative that I possess.”
‘Anyone Can Walk in the Woods, But Who Truly Knows Them?’
Tristan McConnell writes about the forests of Mount Kenya, and the people there with a deep understanding of the land and the trees.
The Art of Acceptance Speech Giving
Michael Musto looks back at some of the best, worst, and weirdest instances of performers expressing gratitude as they received their shiny trophies.
Pages You Can Dance To: A Book List
Either Martin Mull or Frank Zappa or Elvis Costello once said writing about music is as pointless as dancing about architecture. Which doesn’t account for how I’ve danced to all these books.

