Fiction

If you saw Will on the street in his early 60s, you would think he looked like an aged James Cagney after nights of heavy drinking and little sleep. He was a small, wiry, angry man. Indeed, anger consumed him: a fire he could not extinguish. Offhand...

It’s 1961. Castro has taken over Cuba. My parents have a lot of discussions about the Communist Party. I hear what they’re saying, but the truth is I don’t think about it much. When they’re talking and talking, I think about...

When I was a child, the grass in our backyard was a vivid shade of green, and the sky a deep blue. Our family life was like living in a colorful water globe that changed hues with each passing year.  The modest brick ranch we lived in was our...

Jack Day half smiled at the sight of his father sipping coffee in the kitchen beside the bay window he helped him install upon his mother’s request weeks before she passed away almost a year ago.

Part Two While still in the home port of Odessa, Nathan sent a telegram to Benjamin informing him of the name and route of the ship, so he could track their passage. Their room was spare, gray, and made of steel, with one small bunk and a rack...

It was a late afternoon in March, just after the turn of the 20th century. The air sparkled.                   A spring wedding was taking place. There was clapping, singing, and joy in the small shtetl...

“I’ve got something interesting to show you,” said Jackson Pollock’s nephew Ronald Stein. “In fact, you’re one of the few people who’ve ever seen it.” For a brief moment I imagined Stein was going to...

On Sept. 1, 1975, the day I moved to East Hampton from suburban New Jersey, New York magazine published an article, “Out Here in the Hamptons: Snapshots of the Literary Life,” by Anthony Haden-Guest.

I first met my Uncle Dave when I was 5 years old and he returned to our home in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, after serving in World War II.  My mom and her sister, Leah, Dave’s two sisters, threw a big welcome home party and roasted chickens...