The back-to-back scheduling made for a brutal schlep, but it was worth it: During my first week in New York, I saw, among ...

Think of a seashell. Don’t think of a conch. In fact, forget, for now, about univalve mollusks entirely. Think of Shell, the ...

There were dance studios and barre studios and running clubs and cryotherapy spas and local YMCA chapters and kickboxing ...

It’s the tail end of January, the month of resolutions made and broken, gym memberships purchased and fitness classes left ...

If we read Ditlevsen’s poems through the lens of Lessing, you could say that Ditlevsen’s so-called sentimentality is a poetic anachronism that functions as a subversive tool, an anachronism on a par ...

“Once things leave my files,” Etel Adnan wrote to me, “I never know where they are, and don’t think about them anymore, otherwise you lose your mind.” Her method is sound: now ninety-three, she has ...

Each month, we comb through dozens of soon-to-be-published books, for ideas and good writing for the Review’s site. Often we’re struck by particular paragraphs or sentences from the galleys that stack ...

Before the sweat, before the bench press, before the sauna, before the shower, before placing my hand around a man, inside a man, around his throat so desperate for my hand, I take off my ring. While ...

My running diary is a stack of 8 ½ x 11” papers printed with a calendar grid. The small boxes demand brevity. Cryptic penciled notes represent dates, times, distances, elevations, routes, and ...

It’s the tail end of January, the month of resolutions made and broken, gym memberships purchased and fitness classes left unattended. This week, we’re publishing a series of dispatches from the gym.