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 2, 2015

I had left you at the gate to buy a newspaper and on my way back stopped at a bank of monitors to check the status of our flight to London. That was when you noticed a middle-aged man in a brown jacket and the green short-brimmed cap I’d bought for the trip. It wasn’t... Read more »

The Writer’s Almanac for April 1, 2015

From Endymion Book I A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases, it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind... Read more »

The Writer’s Almanac for March 31, 2015

                The cat                               licks its paw and         lies down in                             the bookshelf nook                                                                  She                                     can lie in a                                               sphinx position         without moving for so                                          many hours and then turn her head                                 to me and                                           rise and stretch        and turn                        her back to me and               lick her paw again as if                                     no real time had passed                      It... Read more »

The Writer’s Almanac for March 30, 2015

Once some people were visiting Chekhov. While they made remarks about his genius the Master fidgeted. Finally he said, “Do you like chocolates?” They were astonished, and silent. He repeated the question, whereupon one lady plucked up her courage and murmured shyly, “Yes.” “Tell me,” he said, leaning forward, light glinting from his spectacles, “what... Read more »

The Writer’s Almanac for March 29, 2015

So what do you want? he growled inside the chopper, strapping me roughly to the stretcher as if I were already dead. “Jesus,” I swore, delirious with pain, touching the hot mush of my legs. “To see my wife. Go home, play with my kids, help them grow up. You know.” His camouflaged face was... Read more »

The Writer’s Almanac for March 28, 2015

As I drive into town the driver in front of me runs a stop sign. A pedestrian pulls down his cap. A man comes out of his house to sweep the steps. Ordinariness bright as raspberries. I turn on the radio. Somebody tells me the day is sunny and warm. A woman laughs and my... Read more »