2016 quite a year, and the future is looking… interesting. But the Rumpus Book Clubs fight on, choosing books that challenge and delight and inspire month after month. We choose books that haven’t been released yet, which means our members get them before anyone else, and then we get to talk about each book with its author....more
Leah Kaminsky’s debut novel, The Waiting Room, depicts one fateful day in the life of an Australian doctor and mother, Dina, living in Haifa, Israel. Dina is trying to maintain normalcy as she goes about her work as a family doctor, cares for her son, and fights to preserve her faltering relationship with her husband, with whom she’s expecting a daughter....more
Amiri Baraka was a provocateur, a radical, an activist, and an amazing poet who remains relevant for all the wrong reasons and some of the right ones. “Dope” is an explosion, a satire, an investigation, an accusation, a poem that kills....more
Social Skills Training
Studies suggest How may I help you officer? is the single most disarming thing to say and not What’s the problem? Studies suggest it’s best the help reply My pleasure and not No problem. Studies suggest it’s best not to mention problem in front of power even to say there is none....more
Sunday: I work through the voting guide, propositions, and candidates, making my decisions. My partner, Argyle C, Klopnick (ACK!), is sure, now, that Hillary’s victory is certain. I ‘m not yet a believer. I think Trump is electable.
Monday: I’m catching the excitement....more
A self-described “actor’s director,” James Steven Sadwith has been writing, directing, and producing television movies, miniseries, and dramas for nearly three decades—and is perhaps best known for his work on the lives of Frank Sinatra and Elvis. But for Coming through the Rye, his first feature film for the big screen, Sadwith comes closer to home, chronicling in fictional form the journey he himself embarked upon as a youth....more
I’ll Be Here
There is a lake of clear water.
There are forms of things despite us.
Pope said, “A little learning,”
and, and, and, and—the same.
Why don’t you go home and sleep
and come back and talk some more.
Not in your echoing womb,
to scream at you across your fields to wake up,
not part of your denial that Earth is burning,
dehydrated, suffocating on itself—
I stood in a blue state
while you bled the red of its people—(Our people: recall how they grew up
across Holt Street, Maple Street from us, yes?)—
delusional that you were the world’s own,