Melissa Kirsch

We’re all temporary citizens of makeshift communities created by happenstance.

It’s fall. Which means a deluge of films ahead of awards season. When you leave the theater, notice the change in the light outside.

The constant flow of digital updates doesn’t allow for true connection.

Fall weekends bring an imperative to get things done, but we need not over-engineer our days to get the most out of them.

Fall officially begins on Tuesday, but evidence of the season seeps in more gradually.

The season’s new releases give us a cultural road map, but the most rewarding reading, listening and watching comes from the detours.

How do we balance our desire for modern conveniences with our nostalgia for the uncomplicated felicity of our pre-internet past?

What makes a movie a summer movie? Is it the time of its release, or the way that it depicts the season itself? Or something else entirely?

There are good reasons to abandon books we’re not enjoying, but our attenuated attention might lead us to tap out too early.

Errands get us out of our homes and into the world, on missions providing both serendipity and satisfaction.

The answer is something specific, personal, instantly familiar.