Randall Tiedman’s contemporary wastelands are the stuff of epic poetry.
How Sheila Schwartz helped me find the truth in fiction.
A carnival atmosphere won't solve Cleveland's poverty problem
No one stumbles upon the Anisfield-Wolf Book Award collection at the Cleveland Public Library. The books are shelved in three locked cabinets of the Treasure Room, a drum-tight chamber in Special Collections.
Harvey Pekar — the grouch, the pessimist, the quitter — wrote about the Cleveland that really was — not the Cleveland we aspire to be.
The men came every day, arriving as the daytime manager slid back the bolt on the front door. They walked into a darkness so solid they’d tip their heads as if dodging a blow.
Our distinct region — friendly to artists and startups, with [...]
There’s only one Berry Gordy, but Rust Belt America in the 1960s and ‘70s was also home to at least a handful of African-American-run recording studios that thrived without bank loans ...
Ten years ago, I was living in Oberlin, a college town 30 miles from Cleveland. I was newly divorced, and ready to start dating, but not anyone in my small, company town. So I met Cleveland men.
Discovering music history, one garage sale at a time.