Martha Bayne
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Weekend Rumpus Roundup
First, in the Saturday Interview, Helga Schimkat talks to author Eden Robinson about silencing the inner voice of criticism. Robinson, whose award-winning novel Monkey Beach is set in British Columbia, emphasizes the sensory and emotional role of home in her work, saying, “Writing…
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Weekend Rumpus Roundup
First, Michael Wasson’s imagistic prose poetry fills the Saturday Essay. Wasson’s dreamlike narrative describes a first day of school from his childhood. Wasson recalls the teacher taking attendance, calling out, “who’s missing?” The question launches a lyrical investigation of the author’s memory and identity. Then,…
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Tiny Bubbles
A bubble is a sphere of privilege, but it also provides the safety to mix up more soapy water and to blow new bubbles to protect what we hold dear.
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Weekend Rumpus Roundup
First, the irreverent Eaton Hamilton recounts her history with pulmonary illness in gripping detail in the Saturday Essay. Hamilton, an aspiring animal researcher, discards her educational goals when the reality of her condition is revealed. Paralleling her story to the macabre qualities…
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Fathers, and Stories, and Father’s Day Stories from the Sunday Rumpus
This time last year I sat for days with my father in his room at Virginia Mason Hospital in Seattle, recording his voice as he narrated the story of his life. “She’s helping me write my memoirs,” he quipped to…
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Next Letter in the Mail: Martha Bayne
We’re getting ready to send out our next Letter in the Mail, and it’s from our own Sunday Editor Martha Bayne! Martha writes us a moving and wide-ranging letter about Greece, Lake Michigan, San Juan, Detroit, California, and her father’s failing…
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Help Keep Up Belt
Belt Magazine (whose Editor-in-Chief happens to be the Rumpus’s own Martha Bayne) is the only magazine that publishes independent journalism about the Rust Belt—and it pays all of its contributors a fair wage. In order to keep paying its writers…
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Words Fail
Martha Bayne runs away with the circus and finds unexpected meaning in the effort required to achieve its gaudy display. “Can it really be escapism,” she asks, “if you’re working so hard?”
