You know, this story is a bit different, right? We always do the Bird-Magic thing where we combine the narratives of Larry Bird and Magic Johnson. And really, what I wanted to do with this book was just tilt the camera a little bit differently, change that perspective and zoom in on that origin story in rural Indiana in the 1970s.
"I haven't heard him sing yet," Flannery confesses, in answer to the burning question, when we sit down after a rehearsal in Nuns Island theatre in Galway.
Tracy Kidder's gifts for storytelling and tireless reporting are an enduring reflection of the empathy, integrity, and endless curiosity he brought to everything he did.
The 24/7 grind of a politician is not for the faint-hearted as the likes of Simon Coveney and Catherine Martin will tell you. Former TDs who stood down or lost their Dáil seat at the last general election say why they haven't looked back.
The Irish government will give 2,000 artists unrestricted weekly stipends in a program officials described as a "recognition, at government level, of the important role of the arts in Irish society." After a successful three-year pilot, the Irish government made its basic income program for artists permanent. Similar pilots have been launched here in the United States, but they're supported primarily by the nonprofit sector.
From the outset, in the novel's prologue, Anna tells us she is determined to account for herself and her life. But we are to expect no ordinary narrative, concerned only with actual events, evidence-based or relying on historical data. No, Anna is interested in the climate of the psyche and the vibrations of the soul. Can it be that the very things we cannot quantify or rationalise are what make life meaningful?
When you reach a certain age, one of the things you notice at the turn of the year is the "stuff" you have accumulated. Old newspapers, documents and books jostle with the detritus of life, from pieces of dead coral from Barbados to an old label that never made it onto a bottle of Guinness. I have spent the last decade preaching to my adult children, telling them to stop buying things.
Finnegan's Wake: An Immersive Ghost Story, presented by 13th Floor Theater, plunges audience members into the beautiful, dysfunctional Finnegan-Plurabelle family. Scenic designer Treigh Buchet, lighting designer Meghan Schultz, and ephemera designer Michelle Josette Crashette transfigure the San Francisco Mint into an Irish family home on the banks of a mystical river. Audience members are free to explore the spaces before the show begins with libation in hand. When the dinner bell rings, the show commences.
Buckley's tribute to her Hamnet co-star at the Critics' Choice awards was better than the preaching we often hear The identity of Jessie Buckley's husband is wrapped in more mystery than the whereabouts of the Ark of the Covenant, or why anyone watches Mrs Brown's Boys. It is known that his name is Freddie, that he is British (which is not his fault) and he works in mental health. His surname and age have never been revealed.
Skip to main content Illustration by The New Yorker; Source photograph Michael Lionstar Listen and subscribe: Apple | Spotify | Google | Wherever You Listen Sign up to receive our weekly Books & Fiction newsletter. Joseph O'Neill reads his story Light Secrets, from the January 26, 2026, issue of the magazine. O'Neill is the author of a story collection and five novels, including Netherland, which won the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction in 2009, The Dog, and Godwin, which was published in 2024.
A writer is a kind of magician. Their job is to create living, three-dimensional people out of the ordinary stuff of ink and paper. This is no easy task, because readers can't literally hear, touch, or observe a character. Everything that defines a human being in real life-the physical space they occupy, or how they smell, feel, and sound-is stripped away, replaced by description. But authors have one major, mystical advantage: They can show you what's happening inside of someone's brain.
The ghost of a previous lover is always a challenge, particularly if you (mistakenly) believe that she's actually dead. This is the unenviable situation for Lily, the protagonist of O'Farrell's second novel, who is swept off her feet by dashing architect Marcus and in short order moves in with him. Lily takes his assurances that her predecessor Sinead is no longer with us to mark a more permanent absence;
The extended footage of Welsh in conversation is certainly engaging, as he discusses his writing and the movies it created, and his own youth in Edinburgh. Some of the rest of the interviewees aren't quite so gripping, however, and the film is padded out with a fair bit of redundant anecdotage from people on the subject of getting hilariously wasted in Irvine's company or at least his approximate vicinity.