Beth Kephart

For readers and writers of addiction memoirs, the question is this: What is the story after the trauma, twist, despair? Where is the grit in the good, the suspense in...

In Jesse Ball’s new, deeply engrossing novel, “Census,” a man is digging; he is contemplating blankness: “To be blank, to contain at your core, a blankness, it must be a...

Winter has set in for Karl Ove Knausgaard. The world is mostly still. His mind is not. It never is. This is the Knausgaard of the lauded six-volume, 3,600-page autobiographical...

In Samantha Silva’s debut novel, “Mr. Dickens and His Carol,” fame has not been kind to the “Inimitable Boz.” He’s being sued, pursued, assaulted and dismissed. Sales of his “Martin...

Jennifer Egan's sixth book of fiction, "Manhattan Beach," arrives. I flip to the back. I read, in the acknowledgments, notes about research that began in 2004, indications of an instinctive...

Throughout the poems and prose, the fractions and the repeated wholes of Sherman Alexie's memoir, "You Don't Have to Say You Love Me," the author offers a revolving carousel of...

"We forget that everything will become no longer ours," Kristen Radtke writes in "Imagine Wanting Only This," one of the most haunting graphic memoirs I've ever read. Radtke, at this...