Melissa Kirsch

1 week ago | nytimes.com | Melissa Kirsch

The first poem I memorized was "Pinkle Purr" by A.A. Milne. I was around seven years old when I encountered it and was immediately enchanted. It's a children's poem, four stanzas, all with the same hypnotic AA/BB/AA rhyme scheme. It's a poem about a kitten, Pinkle Purr, and his mother, Tattoo, and their changing relationship as Pinkle Purr grows up, a sort of "Cat's in the Cradle" for kids, but less sad.

1 month ago | nytimes.com | Melissa Kirsch

Last Friday afternoon, in the lobby of a Marriott in downtown Stamford, Conn., attendees of the 47th American Crossword Puzzle Tournament, the annual confab of word nerds hosted by The Times's puzzle editor, Will Shortz, joyously convened. Veteran puzzlers greeted old friends with the excitement of a homecoming. First-timers smiled nervously, eyeing others' name tags in hopes of catching a glimpse of a favorite crossword constructor.

1 month ago | nytimes.com | Melissa Kirsch

In a meeting at work last week, my colleague told the story of how she recently took her son, age 17, to his first concert, Kim Deal at the Brooklyn Paramount. She was so excited to blow his mind, to introduce him to the magic of live music that she'd discovered at 15 when she first went to a rock show herself.

1 month ago | flipboard.com | Melissa Kirsch

12 hours agoHave you ever wondered how some people get to be so successful? It may appear that their road was easy or they got a lucky break. However, if you take the time to understand all of the pitfalls and trials that many go through before reaching their goals, you will learn that it takes lots of work …

1 month ago | nytimes.com | Melissa Kirsch

One afternoon last week, I convinced a friend to accompany me to a restaurant in Brooklyn to learn how to play Hong Kong-style mahjong. I'd always been intrigued by mahjong's colorful bakelite tiles, the satisfying clacking sound they make as they're shuffled. My mother plays the American version twice a week with the same groups of friends, a clubby ritual that makes me a little jealous: Why don't I have a regular game of something going? We were a group of 15 or so students, all new to the game.