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From Stephen Elliott
The Rumpus Women, Vol. I contributors have been on tour. We’ve read in bookstores, bars, and family rooms in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Brooklyn, and Denver. The readings have been awe-inspiring: smart, funny, charming, sad, honest, brave.
In case you couldn’t make a reading or live in Iowa, Rumpus Women will be on Firedoglake Book Salon, an online news site that hosts author discussions every Saturday and Sunday.
...moreThis week in San Francisco, it’s Ladies Night at The Rumpus! Also, Dave Eggers plays ping pong, art for the blind, sitting and lying in protest of the Sit/Lie law, and crafty alternatives to traditional holiday shopping.
Monday 12/13: What do the Jackson Arms Shooting Range and The Rumpus have in common today? It’s Ladies Night! We’ve teamed up with Flavorpill for an evening of readings, comedy, and music by women to celebrate the release of Rumpus Women, Vol.
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East Coast! West Coast! Rumpus Women are reading everywhere! Come out!
San Francisco: Monday night, December 13, 7pm, the Makeout Room
Readings by Michelle Tea, Sarah Fran Wisby, Julie Greicius, Kathleen Alcott and Antonia Crane, with a presentation by Lisa Brown, comedy by Janine Brito and music by The Yellow Dress.
...moreThis week in San Francisco, Granta at City Lights, literature meets food at Feast of Words and to-the-death battle at Literary Death Match, and Believer Magazine hangs out at Electric Works.
Monday 12/6: Celebrate issue 113 of Granta magazine at City Lights with readings by Daniel Alarcón, Carlos Labbé, Andrés Felipe Solano, and Carlos Yushimito.
...moreIf you’ve been to The Rumpus Shop recently (in the last 24 hours) you might have noticed there is now a Rumpus Women Literary Calendar. You might wonder how we could be so sexist. Or at least, that’s the email I got earlier.
...moreCLICK HERE TO PURCHASE RUMPUS WOMEN, VOL. I!
We’re delighted to present the introduction to the first and most extraordinary book ever published by The Rumpus.
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Dear Sugar,
I write like a girl. I write about my lady life experiences, and that usually comes out as unfiltered emotion, unrequited love, and eventual discussion of my vagina as metaphor.
And that’s when I can write, which doesn’t happen to be true anymore.
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