The Writer's Almanac

Each day, Garrison Keillor reads a poem and relates stories of significant events touching literary history.

Recent Episodes

The Writer’s Almanac for April 15, 2015

I was feeling pretty religious standing on the bridge in my winter coat looking down at the gray water: the sharp little waves dusted with snow, fish in their tin armor. That’s what I like about disappointment: the way it slows you down, when the querulous insistent chatter of desire goes dead calm and the... Read more »

The Writer’s Almanac for April 14, 2015

Doing without           is an interesting custom, involving such in-           visible items as the food that’s not on the table, the clothes           that are not on the back the radio whose only music           is silence. Doing without is a great protector of reputations           since all places one cannot go are fabulous, and only the rare and... Read more »

The Writer’s Almanac for April 13, 2015

Fair is my love that feeds among the lilies,     The lilies growing in the pleasant garden, Where Cupid’s mount, that well-beloved hill is,     And where that little god himself is warden. See where my love sits in the beds of spices,     Beset all round with camphor, myrrh and roses, And interlac’d with curious devices,     Which... Read more »

The Writer’s Almanac for April 12, 2015

Our upstate April         is cold and gray.                  Nevertheless yesterday I found         up in our old                  woods on the littered ground dogtooth violets         standing around                  and blooming wisely. And by the edge         of the Bo’s road at the far                  side of the meadow where the limestone ledge         crops out our wild                  cherry trees were making a... Read more »

The Writer’s Almanac for April 11, 2015

I wanted to go on an immense journey, to travel night and day into the unknown until, forgetting my old self, I came into possession of a new self, one that I might have missed on my previous travels. But the first step was beyond me. I lay in bed, unable to move, pondering, as... Read more »

The Writer’s Almanac for April 10, 2015

Some nights I think of it, moving to Malibu, just as I stretch, like a cat stretches, to my full length, as though I am easing into cool waters. I imagine the blue of the sea; the bright green leaves of the geranium on the patio, the bright pink blooms, the yellow sun and white... Read more »