Posts Tagged: Gina Frangello

Gina Frangello Talks A Life in Men

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Over at BuzzFeed, Rumpus contributor Julie Greicius interviews Rumpus Sunday Editor Gina Frangello about her new novel A Life in Men, the special bonds we form in adolescence, and why moms can still write about sex. Take a peek:

I’m not really sure how our culture has arrived at the mutually exclusive relationship between Motherhood and Sexuality, especially since in most cases, women become mothers by having sex.

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Lit-Link Round-Up

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This is my second-to-last round-up before I go on hiatus for my book tour, which is a sprawling, insane thing that’s lasting until the end of April, on and off. That’s nothing, of course, compared to the duration of some tours (the fabulous Adderall Diaries tour, for example, that gave birth to the Daily Rumpus), but I have three kids so I’m a little strung-out about it all.

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AWP Offsite Event: Rumpus by the Sound

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RumpusByTheSound_WEBFLYER2

The Rumpus proudly presents…

Rumpus by the Sound

Thursday, February 27, 2014
Doors at 8:30 p.m., show at 9:00 p.m.

Spitfire
2219 4th Avenue
Seattle, WA

Our offsite AWP event is sure to be one of the after-hours highlights of the conference.

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Reflecting on Penance

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Sunday Rumpus editor Gina Frangello has a beautiful essay over at The Manifest-Station (run by Rumpus Contributor Jennifer Pastiloff) that reflects back on her days dealing with anxiety, an eating disorder, and getting out.

“In an Afterschool Special, the crazy girl who is afraid of unopened packages of food would get help somehow, would have an epiphany and heal.  But in real life, we often have no idea what we’re healing from.  Kids I had grown up with had been brutally physically and sexually abused, had lived in apartments overrun with roaches where they were often left alone while their mothers hung out in bars and went home with men, had fended off the advances of their mothers’ parade of boyfriends, had—in a few cases—been murdered in gang violence or simply by crazy, enraged neighbors.  Although I had grown up in the middle of all that, none of it had ever happened to me.  My parents were nice people.  We were below the poverty line, but there were only three of us and we always had enough to eat.  My mother took me to the library every week and read books aloud to me.  I had gotten out and here I was at a Big Ten college, having studied abroad in London.  I had a sophisticated British boyfriend who sent me tapes of cool music and accommodated my vision of myself by packing condoms in front of me.  I had scads of friends, who didn’t judge me as harshly as I may judge my former self, as we were all only twenty-one and they had their issues too.  I had a massive case of Survivor Guilt.”

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Aw Shucks

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“Interestingly, I’ve found The Rumpus a lot more compelling lately than the New York Times. I oscillate between really worrying about old, venerable print pubs and feeling like I don’t want to be part of attacking them and making them seem less relevant–I don’t genuinely want them to be utterly obsolete–and then just being really disgusted at the snark and laziness like what you illustrate above re: the attack on Saunders .

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