Mac King

Mac King


Characters make a story memorable: jokesters, geniuses, gossips, children, octogenarians, your neighbor Maureen, your uncle Jerry, cobblers, clock-winders, professional foosball players, artisan mayonnaise-makers. In this job (and in life), I like to think I seek out characters. I'm a reader (fiction, non-fiction, books, magazines, the entire Internet). I'm a TV/movie-watcher. I'm a former camp counselor. I'm an intramural sports enthusiast. Every story of my little league career is at least mildly exaggerated. I grew up on Bainbridge Island, Wash., with two sisters, Newfoundland dogs and Siamese cats. My parents still live there with all of those pets and all of my favorite sports teams. I went to high school at Andover, where I spent more time playing stickball than studying for chemistry (Mr. Cardozo gave me a C). I then attended Bates College, where I wrote a sports column for the school paper filled with more drinking jokes than game stats (thankfully, the online archives seem to have vanished). I went to graduate school at Northwestern, where I once submitted a story about the most delicious cinnamon brioche in all of Chicago.

The latest from Mac King


Many fitness studios and gyms still waiting for green light

New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut have mostly made decisions and imposed restrictions in unison the last six months. One exception to that strategy pertains to the reopening of gyms, which reopened in parts of New York state on Monday but not in New York City.