On growing up with a self-destructive parent.

A non-erotic journey.

A nation’s uncertain future.

The liberation of the Williams sisters.

Listening to the Big Star songwriter, who left the group before dying in a solo car crash at 27.

His voice, on the recordings, is too sensitive. That's meant not as an aesthetic judgment. It wasn't too sensitive for the material, in other words. It was too sensitive for life. You listen to him sing, closely, and if you don't know another thing about what happened to him, you know that the guy with that voice is not going to last.

Life after a stint on The Real World.

An essay on heritage, history and literature.

When your house is the set of One Tree Hill:

On one shoot, I remember, I'd been confused about where they needed to set up (confession: hungover), and as a result neglected to clean the bedroom. Later, a crew guy—the same one who'd told me about Blue Velvet—said, "I'm not used to picking up other people's underwear." I felt like saying, Then don't go into their bedrooms at nine o'clock in the morning! Except… he was paying to be in my bedroom.

A journey to Disney World with kids and weed.

An essay about the weeks after the author’s brother nearly died.

On David Foster Wallace’s unfinished novel, The Pale King, and his legacy.

A trip to Kingston, Jamaica to track down Bunny Wailer, a reggae legend now living “in his own private Zion.”

Four years after a disastrous MTV performance had led him to avoid the public, Rose was back on stage.