Trinity University Press

In the spirit of Eat, Pray, Love, Carol Wright Folbre’s story is of a young suburban Texas woman’s path to self-discovery in the early 1980s. Newly married, she embarked with her husband on a journey that morphed into an eighteen-month reassessment and discovery of her core skills, values, and presumptions.

Folbre’s travels across India, Nepal, China, and Russia were replete with challenge and adventure. Travel by foot, plane, passenger and industrial rail, bus rooftop, riverboat, bicycle, camelback, and donkey cart landed her in places she had never imagined and introduced her to centuries- and millennia-old cultures she had only read about in books. Staying in yurts, hostels, monasteries, and teahouses along the way, she met many people who captivated her. 

What started as a headstrong journey driven by a Western tourist’s curiosity became a progression of discovery as Folbre learned the value of getting lost and embracing surprises, listening deeply, and finding strength in the unknown. Throughout her travels, she journaled and illustrated her encounters. What emerged was a framework for her to rethink her worldview and adopt a journey-over-destination and process-over-outcome perspective, recognizing a way of living that holds as many questions as answers and can be genuinely beautiful.

One afternoon in fall 2015 Cristina Devereaux Ramírez’s mother called and, with a tone of urgency in her voice, asked her to come to the house and take a look at something she had discovered when she was sorting through boxes in the attic. When Ramírez arrived, she found her family sifting through papers in an old vegetable box, reading some of the more than 750 pages of Spanish language poems, short stories, fables, and dichos Ramírez’s maternal grandmother, Ramona González, had written. Some pieces were works in progress, complete with word and phrase strikethroughs and handwritten notes in the margins, while others were neatly typed prose or what might have been final drafts. None of González’s writings had seen the outside of that box for decades, at least since 1995 when the family matriarch passed away.

González—or Doña Ramona, as she was often called—was born in 1906 in the El Paso border barrio of Chihuahuita, sometimes referred to as the Ellis Island of the Southwest. Her writing celebrates the rich Mexican American culture of Chihuahuita, a neighborhood the National Trust for Historic Preservation identified in 2016 as one of America’s most endangered historic places. A mother, corner grocery store owner, published writer, and community activist, González was one of the few Tejanas profiled in Worthy Mothers of Texas, 1776–1976

A Story of Stories from a Texas Border Barrio, Ramírez chronicles the life of her abuela with the care of a granddaughter and, with the eye of a scholar, analyzes selections from González’s work and its significance to El Paso history, Chicano literature, border barrio folklore, and cross-border civic movements in the mid-twentieth century.

In Navigating Rocky Terrain, a nature memoir in essays, Laurie Roath Frazier explores the subterranean in search of footholds to move forward in an ever-changing landscape. The journey begins soon after her mother’s diagnosis of dementia. As Frazier hikes through Canyon Lake Gorge, an enormous scar left behind by a megaflood, questions emerge. What is life like in cracked and disturbed places? How do people and places—plants, animals, and the land—heal following a disturbance? How does life flourish in the shadow of an uncertain future? These questions continue to guide Frazier through the limestone terrain of the Texas Hill Country.

Each essay delves into the geology and ecology of a special place: a gorge, a cave, a sinkhole, a disappearing river—key features in the crumbling spaces, the holes and cracks, of karst terrain. Along the way Frazier meets scientists and citizen scientists, cavers, and master naturalists who lend their voices to her stories. Together they delve into such ecological issues as extreme weather events, habitat fragmentation, land use, population growth, water conservation, invasive species, and dark sky initiatives.

These hopeful, curiosity-driven essays examine how we begin to heal personally and ecologically. Frazier shares her experiences of illness, the pandemic, and the death of loved ones, including her parents, as she sets out on mini-expeditions close to home. As she searches for caves on a thirty-acre family property and makes plans to restore the land, she weaves stories of the karst she encounters above and below with her own. The journey ultimately uncovers the complex connections between the surface and the subterranean, and in the landscape of the human.

In a remote corner of the Arctic in 1941, a meteor shower flashed across the sky for an unusually long time. Taking this to be a sign, one of the local Inuit proclaimed himself Jesus Christ. Another proclaimed himself God. Anyone who didn’t believe in them was Satan. Violence ensued.

At the End of the World isn’t just the remarkable story of a series of murders that occurred on the Belcher Islands, a group of wind-blasted rocks in Canada’s Hudson Bay. It’s also a starting place for a deeper cultural exploration. Against the backdrop of the murders, which highlight the fact that senseless violence in the name of religion is not a contemporary phenomenon and that a even people as seemingly peaceful as the Inuit can turn to chaos at the hands of one person’s delusion, Millman addresses the burgeoning dawn of the digital era, following the murders’ trail to show how our obsession with screens is not unlike a cult and offering a warning cry against the erosion of humanity and the destruction of the environment. The story becomes a confluence of the consequences of generational trauma, outside religious evangelism, systemic racism against indigenous people, the perilous passage from the natural to the digital world, and what it means to be human in a time of technological dominance and climate disasters.

At the End of the World, available for the first time in paperback, is not a straightforward tale of true crime but an examination of many of the issues that have become dominant in the global conversation. In snippets of reflection, Millman asks us to look north for answers to many of the questions we all hold, literally, in our hands.

The Last Speaker of Bear is the patchwork story of a life spent traveling in the north from Alaska to Siberia. Lawrence Millman first visited northern Canada as a child and has spent four decades since on some thirty-five expeditions in search of undeveloped landscapes and traditional cultures, not to mention untamed wildlife. While much of his experience is centered in Canada—including territories from Yukon to Quebec and Newfoundland/Labrador—he includes stories from villages in Greenland, Iceland, and Norway as well.

Early on, Millman developed a reverence for the wisdom of indigenous and native communities with histories spanning centuries: Inuit, Inuk, Innu, Alutiiq, Cree, and others. Whether dining on mushrooms, fungus, tobacco leaves, or unusual foods that would have made even Andrew Zimmern or Anthony Bourdain turn up their noses, or exploring northern tundras, rugged mountains, or remote islands, he paints a picture of people often living in tenuous conditions but rooted in a faith that their worlds will provide for them. Relationships with bears, caribou, reindeer, walruses, seals, whales, and abundant avian life serve spiritual, companionship, and sustenance purposes. Traditions grounded in family and community rituals thrive, as do lost languages, natural medicine, and time-honored ways to survive difficult circumstances.. 

In this collection of vignettes, Millman reminds us of the potency of endangered knowledge as well as the importance of paying close attention to the natural world. He opens our eyes to a life in remote places thousands of miles from the fast-paced, urban world so many of us inhabit.

In (Don’t) Stop Me If You’ve Heard This Before, Peter Turchi combines personal narrative and close reading of a wide range of stories and novels to reveal how writers create the fiction that matters to us. Building on his much-loved Maps of the Imagination: The Writer as Cartographer, Turchi leads readers and writers to an understanding of how the intricate mechanics of storytelling—including shifts in characters’ authority, the subtle manipulation of images, careful attention to point of view, the strategic release of information, and even digressing from the (apparent) story—can create powerful effects.

Using examples from Dickens, Chekhov, and Salinger, and Twain to more contemporary writers including Toni Morrison, Alice Munro, E. L. Doctorow, Jenny Erpenbeck, Adam Johnson, Mohsin Hamid, Jai Chakrabarti, Yoko Ogawa, Richard Powers, Deborah Eisenberg, Olga Tokarczuk, Rachel Cusk, and Colson Whitehead, Turchi offers illuminating insights into the inner workings of fiction as well as practical advice for writers looking to explore their craft from a fresh angle beyond the fundamentals of character and setting, plot, and scene.

While these essays draw from decades of teaching undergraduate and graduate students, they also speak to writers working on their own. In “Out of the Workshop, into the Laboratory,” Turchi discusses how anyone can make the most of discussions of stories or novels in progress, and in “Reading Like a Writer” he provides guidelines for learning from writing you admire. Perhaps best of all, these essays by a writer the Houston Chronicle has called “one of the country’s foremost thinkers on the art of writing” are as entertaining as they are edifying, always reminding us of the power and pleasure of storytelling.

One of the most pervasive yet least studied figures in Latin American culture is La Llorona, the weeping woman. Doomed to wander riverbanks searching for her children, she is both cursed and revered, especially in Mexico and the U.S. borderlands but also throughout Central and South America. The legend tells of a woman who, after being betrayed by her husband, drowns her children in a river in a fit of rage and despair. Overcome with guilt and grief, she spends the rest of her days wandering the riverbank, crying out for her lost children. 

La Llorona’s origins date to precolonial indigenous cultures. She is said to have been a celebrated goddess of fertility who was worshiped by the Aztecs. When the Spanish conquistadors arrived, however, they sought to suppress the native religions and turned La Llorona into a symbol of sin and punishment. Her legend has been passed down for generations and has taken on many variations over time, from a ghostly figure to a vengeful spirit preying on children who wander too close to the water’s edge. The figure appears in literature, film, music, and pop culture media. 

Weeping Women: La Llorona in Modern Latina and Chicana Lore is an illustrated mixed-genre anthology that brings together poets, researchers, artists, and storytellers from diverse backgrounds to examine the figure’s literal and metaphorical influence. La Llorona continues to be a popular legend in Latin America, but one in need of greater study in order to fully understand her cultural influence and importance.

An island is a world out of time and place, separated by literal and figurative oceans, where the confines of reality are tenuous and magic may be possible. Iceland—with its relative isolation, enchanting mythologies, creative people, and the otherworldly wild beauty of its glaciers, geysers, volcanos, and fjords—encompases this special magic in the minds of many, including writer Kurt Caswell.

Vividly illustrated by Julia Oldham, Iceland Summer recounts Caswell’s journey traversing the country by foot and bus accompanied by his lifelong friend Scott. The pair set out from Reykjavík and travel clockwise along the Ring Road, stopping along the way for backcountry walking trips. Caswell immerses himself in the natural beauty and charming eccentricities of the tiny island nation. With his drinking and hiking buddy by his side, and fueled by a steady diet of Brennivín (fermented grain mash) and pylsur (Icelandic hot dogs), he explores the Hornstrandir peninsula, walks to the famed Dettifoss waterfall, waits for a glimpse of the lake monster Lagarfljótsormurinn at Egilsstaðir, visits the world’s only penis museum, and pays homage to centuries of Icelandic literary tradition at the Árni Magnússon Institute.

Writing in the tradition of other pairs who have traveled in Iceland, like W. G. Collingwood and Jón Stefánsson, and W. H. Auden and Louis MacNeice, Caswell meditates on the value of wild places in the modern world, travel as both pastime and occupation, the nature of friendship, and walking, food, and literature. Scott is the Sancho Panza to Caswell’s Don Quixote, offering a ribald humor that grounds Caswell’s flights into the romantic. The two travel well together and together arrive at the understanding that what anchors them both is their lifelong friendship.

Brackenridge Park began its life as a heavily wooded, bucolic driving park at the turn of the twentieth century. Over the next 120 years it evolved into the sprawling, multifaceted jewel San Antonians enjoy today, home to the San Antonio Zoo, the state’s first public golf course, the Japanese Tea Garden, the Sunken Garden Theater, and the Witte Museum.

The land that Brackenridge Park occupies, near the San Antonio River headwaters, has been reinvented many times over. People have gathered there since prehistoric times. Following the city’s founding in 1718, the land was used to channel river water into town via a system of acequias; its limestone cliffs were quarried for building materials; and it was the site of a Civil War tannery, headquarters for two military camps, a plant nursery, and a racetrack.

The park continues to be a  site of national acclaim even while major sections have fallen into disrepair. The more than 400 acres that constitute San Antonio’s flagship urban park are made up of half a dozen parcels stitched together over time to create an uncommon varied landscape. Uniquely San Antonian, Brackenridge is full of romantic wooded walks and whimsical public spaces drawing tourists, locals, wildlife, and waterfowl.

Extensively researched and illustrated with some two hundred archival photographs and vintage postcards, Brackenridge: San Antonio’s Acclaimed Urban Park is the first comprehensive look at the fascinating story of this unique park and how its diverse layers evolved to create one of the city’s foremost gathering places.

The harrowing account of San Antonio’s great flood of 1921

Cary Clack has captured the hearts and minds of Texans since the mid-1990s, gaining a national reputation as an incisive and sensitive journalist and developing a significant following as a columnist. Originally from San Antonio, he worked with the Martin Luther King Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change in Atlanta (writing CNN commentaries for Coretta Scott King) to hone his communication skills and broaden his social sensibilities. Returning to his hometown, he quickly became known as a writer who profiled everyday heroes and captured stories unique to the Texas experience, adding a critical local perspective to national news. His columns are infused with a sense of humility and a keen examination of the humanness in others.

Following sixteen years as a journalist, Clack pursued interests in politics, social policy, and service, including work with the mayor of San Antonio, U.S. congressman Joaquin Castro, and others.

More Finish Lines to Cross is a collection of Clack’s best short- and long-form columns since his return to the San Antonio Express-News in 2019. It includes more than eighty pieces about the issues of the day, from Donald Trump, Joe Biden, and the war in Ukraine to the impact of COVID, the death of George Floyd, and the mass shooting of schoolchildren in Uvalde, Texas. Along the way we meet the people who influenced Clack, which in turn reminds us to reflect on how we become the people we are and what inspires us to be better members of our communities.