Nanette Varian

A history of family and the city. He was my fifth great-grandfather, my father’s father plus five. A man of mystery whose origin story many of us have tried to puzzle out over the centuries. Let’s call him Original Isaac, a butcher by trade whose first mention in the records, as far as anyone can tell, comes in 1720, when he was listed as having a stall in New York's Old Slip Market. A dozen years pass before we see him again, on the occasion of his wedding to Elizabeth Devea

On magazine endings, beginnings, and whatever fresh hell is Condé Nast. “The studios have closed down. There are very few pictures in production. Where there used to be 50, there are 18 now. When I read those words, written by the mother of a child star in 1948, when the movie business was imploding, I gasped. Because that 70-year-old sentiment sounded eerily familiar. So did this observation, from Lana Turner: “My last few years at Metro were like working amid the ruins. Fam

One thing I always looked for when assigning or writing a story for More was the holy shit factor. Not necessarily an over-the-top tabloid ride, though these can be fun, too. I mean the unexpected detail, even a nugget, that would make readers’ goosebumps sit up and take notice. Take Sheila Weller’s heart-stopping account of war-correspondent Clarissa Ward, indefatigable witness to the horrors unfolding in Syria, who risked death sneaking into the country with memory cards hi