I’m not exactly an insider here at The Rumpus. I’m not really an outsider either. I’m the Sunday editor. If I were a Ghostbuster, I’d be Winston. Or maybe even Rick Moranis’ character in Ghostbusters II.
From this role, where I have a bit of distance, it’s been hard not to notice that the success of the Rumpus has led to a bit of a Rumpus identity freak-out. So I asked Stephen Elliott if I could say a few words about it, and he said it’d be okay, so I’d like to do that and then open this up for your comments. I’d also like to ask that, in the comments, we not single out any specific people or articles or blog posts. Any comments like that won’t be approved.
Here’s a story: A few months after I started here, Stephen asked me to write up a book blog panel I happened to be at in LA. The panelists there had some good advice, but they also spoke again and again about the importance of “dust-ups.” To make it as a book blogger, a few of them said, it didn’t hurt to get your hands dirty. There’s nothing like a good old-fashioned Internet fight to drive traffic.
This isn’t what The Rumpus was about, and I knew it. So I attacked. I wrote a blistering blog post about how many of the people involved in this “dust up” panel were ugly (in fact, they were mind-numbingly attractive) and dumb (I was wrong there too) and must eat children in their spare time (there is no evidence I was wrong about that one.) It was supposed to be an over-the-top meta-commentary mocking them for calling for meaningless fights just to boost traffic.
But when I showed it to Steve, he said, “Can’t do it, Seth.”
This was the one and only time anyone had asked me not to print anything I’ve written here. It was also the only time I’d cleared anything with him beforehand.
He had a problem with it (and I guess I did too) because whether its editors consciously know it or not, the Rumpus isn’t really about “culture” as opposed to “pop culture.” It’s not, as some of our critics put it, about being nice all the time. And it’s not only about Stephen Elliott or Isaac Fitzgerald or that wonderful Sugar or Rick Moody or Elissa Bassist. These people are all important, but they’re aspects of something else: this site is about inspiring and creating a community for a huge group of writers in one of the bleakest times in the history of literature. And it’s about turning that bleakness into something beautiful.
What I’d done in my blog post was try to put down some writers for self-aggrandizement and to get The Rumpus some hits. It wasn’t cool because it would have hurt the writing community, because there were a hundred positive things I could’ve talked about and I chose something that would start a war, just because I could.
And that was really fucked up, considering what the site had done for me.
I joined The Rumpus after sending Steve an email asking him if I could help answer emails or lick envelopes. He met me at a coffee shop, loaned me his computer charger, and asked me to write up a couple blog posts. I did. At the time, I was at a partial residency program; I was happy with the program, but, like most MFA’s, it wasn’t going to get me anywhere on its own. I had one publication. A couple weeks later, Steve and Isaac asked me, with my incredibly tiny amount of experience, if I would be on the masthead as the Sunday editor.
At what other magazine or website would that be possible? So much of the literary world is so fixated on status that it seems impossible to break in. Most people, many of them extremely talented, give up on writing for that reason. Most sites or magazines would ask me what kind of readers I would bring in (very few), or where I went to school (a great school that doesn’t get enough credit), or who my agent was (ha!). The Rumpus saw me as a potential writer, as a potential blogger, as someone who would probably work hard for them. They saw me as someone who believed in and could be a part of a community. And I love them for that.
And because they had no money, they also saw me as someone who would work for free. I was happy to do this. I’m still happy to do this. For one, there’s lots of people at the site who deserve to get paid a lot more than me. Also, it gives me the freedom not to feel bad about messing up.
But it also leads to the question of the day, the thing Rumpus writers keep bringing up in whispers at parties and my parents keep asking me about and the editors are grumbling over. I’m in awe of how quickly and spontaneously the Rumpus has grown. The average number of daily hits has increased something like 800 percent since I started. The Book Club is doing wonderfully, with hundreds of subscribers. According to the last daily Rumpus, some people are actually donating money. As someone who runs another literary website, I can’t tell you how amazing that is, especially since The Rumpus isn’t a nonprofit.
This is still a literary site, so no one is rolling in hundred dollar bills. But something has changed, and I’m not sure what it means. Will money and audience corrupt us? In a community of hundreds of people, how do you make sure no one feels left out? Who do you pay and who don’t you? Do you continue to pay no one and invest all the money in expanding the website? Do you pay everyone $2.75? Do you allow advertising, like this, to try to bring in more funds so you can pay more people? Do you give Isaac a raise? Really, how do you keep the people who joined The Rumpus to join a community from feeling shitty? How do we make sure we’re still letting in people like me a few years ago, people who need this place more than anything? How does The Rumpus remain The Rumpus?
35 responses
I think the zen-jiujitsu-ironic-whatever construction of “only when you think you have succeeded have you failed” applies. If someone comes to some real solid answers to these questions, The Rumpus is lost.
The Rumpus’s defining feature is that it avoids success when it means sacrificing being decent (as you point out). In world where the a-moral gameplaying of reality shows has infected everything from literary blogging to national politics, that’s more than a gimmick or even an organizational sense-of-self. That’s a safe haven for our humanity (digitally facilitated, thank you).
It’s kind of like that splashy little book from a few years back, ON BULLSHIT by Harry G Frankfurt: it’s not that people are evil or mean, it’s that they just don’t care about the truth, that they care more about portraying themselves a certain way than serving any standards at all.
The Rumpus can’t worry about its image or “brand” or how it comes off without slipping into that same sorry abyss that has swallowed so much of modern thought that it’s hard to believe anything you see or read.
But having said that, I would be in favor of giving Isaac a raise. San Francisco’s expensive.
The type of questioning you raise is probably enough. There’s no way to predict how a large community will shift and grow and you well know what an exercise in frustration it would be to try and direct that. Give Isaac a raise? Looks like he’s been to Burma and Thailand. Give Seth a raise instead. Or pay him every other Sunday.
Amy said it all. Not to discourage the many wonderful comments that are sure to follow, but is there anything more to add?
Amy, I think you’re right that we don’t want to come to real solid answers to this. In fact, I think if I ever heard the word “branding” here I’d lose all hope for humanity. But there could be (and I think is) a little bit of resentment brewing because we don’t know the answers to these questions, too, and we have to make sure that doesn’t grow. How do we do that? And how do we continue to include people who would have approached us a year ago but might think “why bother?” now?
I don’t know of any other online magazines as aggressive as the Rumpus about inviting new writers. There’s always been a regular and recurring “do you want to write for the Rumpus? why not?” on the front page, and the book clubs aren’t just successful in getting people involved in reading new books, they’ve got them writing reviews too. Who else does that? Nobody. And anyone otherwise intimidated by the Rumpus’s great big massive moby reputation would feel welcome slipping one in right there, right?
If I could “like” your comment, Amy, I would.
Also curious your thoughts on the money side of things.
I love the Rumpus and am in both the book club and the poetry club. However, I don’t have time to read the Rumpus every day, nor do I have time to follow the discussions on the books every month. I click through from facebook a lot. I financially support the Rumpus because…, speaking of which, I am missing a Write Like a Motherfucker T-shirt size XL that I need to follow up on…, many other things me tired and cynical. Also, I can afford to support the Rumpus, which is you know, an important factor. The Rumpus has an otherness to it that I can’t really define and yes, Seth, I too would kill myself if the word branding was ever used here, or if someone asked me to fill out a “customer” questionnaire with demographic information. I guess it is a feeling of community or similarity… I would use the word freaks but I don’t want to offend anyone normal who might read the Rumpus. And the content isn’t going to be covered on the 24-hour news channel anytime soon. Maybe the Rumpus is sort of The Daily Show or the Colbert Report of the literary world? I don’t know.
Telaina, please email me (Isaac AT TheRumpus.net) about your missing tee! Want you rocking your “Write Like a Motherfucker” as soon as possible. Thanks for the kind words about the site and the community.
Also: Fantastic thought piece Seth! Excited for the discussion.
You guys are doing just fine. The fact that you care enough about your community to ask us these kinds of questions says it all. Would HuffPo do that? I don’t know because I never read it, but I doubt it.
I always think of consuming media just like consuming food. Garbage in, garbage out. If you visit cynical pop-culture and politico websites all day long, your attitude, outlook, happiness, etc. will suffer (just like if you eat junk food all day). Most of the internet is junk food. I view the Rumpus as one of the only places around to get a wholesome meal.
And I say monetize this puppy as much as you can. The trick is getting money flowing through the website (unless you think advertising, book club, and donations will be sufficient). All the money doesn’t have to be coming straight to the Rumpus. Have you thought of some sort of marketplace where others can sell or publicize their work (for a fee)?
And book reviews– I am not a book club member, but what if I read a book review and I really want to buy the book? Why can’t I click on a link and buy it from the Rumpus (or from a Rumpus partner that will cut the Rumpus in on the action)? I’ll bet if you really thought about it, the majority of your articles could have some kind of potential purchase tie-in. Morning Coffee linking to Dia de Los Muertos papercuts? Why can’t I click a link to buy some from a Rumpus partner?
It would be wonderful to pay contributors. How about those journals that do pay, how do they do it? An open forum with editors of other journals would be a really cool thing. Though everyone’s agendas are different, we are all members of the literary community and are trying to give space to writers. Let’s all get together and share.
Also, I’m with Diane. $2.75 every other Sunday. Team Seth!
The Rumpus is doing something right. Not because it’s becoming more popular, but because people love it. But I worry that if it thinks too hard about it, it’ll ruin it. So I guess I agree with Amy (who said it much better). Thanks for this thoughtful piece, Seth.
You can all see Seth tomorrow night (11/3) at the Booksmith on Haight Street where he’ll be among the readers for the Quiet Lightning reading series.
Seth, Thank you for this thought-provoking piece. When I was told that The Rumpus existed, I wanted to get involved. I would’ve licked envelopes alongside you. I’d hoped that the Rumpus would provide culturally interesting writing from a diverse group and it does. I was happy to learn you were the Sunday editor and love your blogs. I didn’t think of Rumpus as a hipster site but a current, relevant literary reprieve from the branding addicted trend on line. From the moment I submitted something that the editors liked enough to publish, my respect and admiration has only grown, making it by far my healthiest relationship yet. I’m glad you didn’t run the dust storm piece to manipulate traffic on Rumpus. We don’t need it. The editors here have integrity and great taste.
Here’s what you do when success is knocking at your foggy bedroom window at night. You start embezzeling for “travel expenses,” use it to buy some blow, accidently kill a hooker and irreparably destory The Rumpus backup servers. Then we’ll collectively mourn The Rumpus glory-days with a biased Wikipedia article.
Observing other people who have “kept it real” over the decades: (1) even when they become aware of some hype about themselves, (2) they don’t believe it or buy into it or spend too much time on it, (3) they just keep working, doing what they feel called to do [or however YOU prefer to say that] and trying to get better.
I’m talking here as if The Rumpus is a “person”. That’s how I feel about it. And one important thing to preserve is that Stephen as a person (and his invention of a new genre, the “Stephen Elliott style overly personal email”) and The Rumpus as a many-headed person can and DO have different personalities and that’s something to preserve and cherish, in order to give both of “them” more freedom.
Public self questioning is sexy, up to a point, as long as the questions are true. Thank you, Seth! (And Elissa, who’s also done such great work in this area.) But let’s not overthink this. Fans and observers can tell when a person or magazine “sells out”: it immediately becomes evident IN THE WORK.
Love,
Julianne
Take tips from The Daily Beast and Huffpo for what NOT to do. Take a good long look at this fabulous site called The Rumpus for what TO do. Keep inviting new voices. Keep it mellow. Keep it the place to be for writers. Maybe funnel the money into a small publishing enterprise or teaching writing in public schools. You should all be paid, but if dividing it up creates a crummy atmosphere, putting it toward more writers’ voices being heard would be in the true spirit of the Rumpus.
I’d say give Isaac a raise, and not worry about pleasing everyone – that’s what politicians do, and why they’re so full of shit. The Rumpus is not full of shit! I like that about it.
Insightful piece Seth. And yes I have to say that it was The Rumpus that gave me my first opportunity to be a published author, and showed me what it really means to share your thoughts and insights in front of hundreds of readers. As a community of writers, readers and volunteers The Rumpus strikes me as exemplary and quite hard to beat. The diversity of its content, I feel, makes it catalyzing for all groups of people who otherwise wouldn’t read an online magazine. I’d love to get paid, sure, but it’s just as gratifying, in this particular milieu of people and ideas, to share my enthusiasms with folks who might benefit from them. If Isaac does get a raise, however, he has to follow up on that whole let me buy you some beers at Zeitgeist thing before the year is up. . .
I think the people who already appreciate what goes on here will support anything that keeps the writers writing, the readers reading, and the Rumpus romping. Do whatever it takes to keep doing what you’re doing and to do everything that you haven’t done yet that you want to do; we’ve got your back.
I’m in agreement with pretty much everybody here. The Rumpus has become an important and inspiring part of my daily life. As a new San Franciscan, I especially appreciate the way its tentacles extend into a real flesh-and-beer community with the Monthly Rumpus and the book club (which I’ll be joining as soon as that advance check comes in–for now I’m still living off my trough of quarters).
I think Isaac definitely deserves a raise, and maybe a subscription model would help with that? I think that might be better for preserving the integrity of the Rumpus than ads. Why not see if the community is willing and able to sustain itself before going outside to monetize? I know there’ve been a few donation requests tacked on to the Daily R, but maybe something more fetching on the front page of the site?
NaNaWriMo seems to get fairly well-funded from donations, and I think their approach is a good one. They show a graph of how much they need to achieve certain things, like an office, or server maintenance. I think that helps to put the need into perspective and allows donors to feel like they’re contributing to something specific.
Maybe also a Rumpus app like the one that This American Life has? That app provides the same content as the free podcast but just makes it more mobile-friendly, easier to share with friends.
Just a few thoughts. Please stick around. This solo scribble monkey needs you!
Maybe try to expand the “flesh-and-beer community” aspect to other cities. Selfishly, I wish there were some book club events in LA, although I understand the pluses of having it centered in SF. Just jealous, is all.
Each day, after I’ve read Stephen’s email post, I cry and gasp and laugh. I email the lines I like best to my boyfriend, another writer. There is nothing else I look forward to in quite the same way, and I love The Rumpus for it. For everything. Consider signing up to make a small monthly donation — I did, and I don’t know why it took me so long. Keep The Rumpus shining for all.
Why can’t I click on a link and buy it from the Rumpus (or from a Rumpus partner that will cut the Rumpus in on the action)?
In some cases–not all, but when possible–we link the titles of books to Powells online, with whom we have a partner agreement. We don’t get much for each book, but we get a little something. We could probably be a little more aggressive about that sort of thing, though. It’s worth at least clicking on the links in the book reviews to see where they lead.
Paying $2.75 is like throwing down the 1980 price for a piece of pizza.
@heather — I’m right there with you on “The Rumpus has become an important and inspiring part of my daily life.” I love this place.
Everything will take its natural, positive course as long as the writing on The Rumpus keeps its quality and freshness. That’s all that matters. The writing, as Julian says, will suffer if you sell-out. So don’t worry about money. For now, put any money The Rumpus earns back into the site to ensure that the quality and freshness we’ve come to expect keeps on a comin’. Don’t go for a knock-out. Don’t start editing out the “fucks”. You may get countered unexpectedly. Just keep winning the rounds. The Rumpus is only in round two. Don’t worry about endorsement deals. Make it through twelve rounds. Get the title. Then you can decide what to do with your winnings. You can even move up a weight-class and win another title.
@Brian Spears– I did not know that about the book review links. Very good to know, as my first impulse when I see a book I am interested in is to look it up on Amazon. I’ll make sure to go through the link next time.
You guys are more on top of things than I gave you credit for. Still, I think there are creative ways to monetize if you think outside the ads-donations-subscription models. Selling an app might be a good idea. I realize it’s one thing to toss these idea out there, and another thing to actually implement them, so I hope I don’t sound flip or condescending. I’m just trying to brainstorm.
I love to read The Rumpus every day. I think if there were ads, it would take away from it. I don’t mind giving a donation. Skipped giving to NPR
this year in order to give to The Rumpus. It does make me wish I lived in
San Francisco, but the East Coast isn’t really so bad. The Rumpus will continue to grow, but I think its style will continue to attract a certain
type of person and will keep it from becoming a “brand.” Rumpus readers and
writers are too individualistic for that, Thank goodness!!!
We really want to build a Rumpus iPhone/iPad app.
First off, Team Isaac: give him a raise. He’s just so sweet, and he’s willing to shoot pennyguns for our amusement.
Seriously, I love the Rumpus for what it’s not: a judgmental bunch of talking heads that tell me what to think/feel/do. It’s not mainstream, which is refreshing. There are moments when I am a bit shocked (Did he really just say what I think he said?) but I feel comfortable here. There seems to be serious respect on the Rumpus that you can’t find anywhere else-there’s no battles or hysteria over other people’s choices. (You want to see nastiness? Go to any parenting board and mention disposable diapers…that’s when the crazies come out). Instead, the Rumpus is just mellow, accepting, and forward thinking.
Please don’t change that! Ads is you must, or remind us to donate more. Just don’t shift the content to gain the masses (even if they have money to burn!)
I’m not going to put this as artfully as I ought, but The Rumpus has come to be so important to me in all sorts of messy, mind-boggling, undefinable ways. It’s important to me as a writer, sure, but maybe more important to me as just a thinking, feeling, curious human being. There’s a heart beating at The Rumpus that is unique to both the world of writing and the internet. I don’t just want The Rumpus to survive; I want it to flourish. And I want it to be such a pay-off (in every sense) to those of you who craft it that you refuse to ever hand off the reigns to anyone with less passion or integrity.
So if baby needs new shoes, for god’s sake sell some ads! Will it ruin The Rumpus? If you sell ads to assholes, and/or make the ads more present than the work, then sure. But if you pay the same kind of attention to the people/products you advertise, and how you integrate them, as you to to the work you publish, then what’s the problem?
Seems to me that the surest way to kill The Rumpus is if it becomes such a drag on those of you who make it happen that it becomes unsustainable, that you no longer have the time or will to be as selective and discerning about content and tone and purpose.
I don’t see how growth or popularity can color The Rumpus ugly unless you inexplicably begin to bow to a populist kind of sameness…and I just don’t see how that scenario would ever manifest.
One of the many beauties of The Rumpus is that you’ve made room for respectful, intelligent discord, but somehow kept a lid on the nightmarish ranting that goes on in virtually every other online presence open to comments.
I live in The City of Books: Portland Oregon, and The Rumpus has become my new road map to my own town.
Over to the donation page now to do my small bit to keep the heart beating.
In general, nothing ruins your success like success. That is to say that it seems to be human nature to achieve something, wonder how on earth you did it, and then make your approach more about fending off failure than simply being what you are. As a rule, I think the way to perpetuate success is by putting your head down, ignoring praise, and staying focused. You’re doing it Rumpus. Just keep on doing it.
It says something about The Rumpus that, as a contributor, it never really crosses my mind that I want to be paid for what I do (the writing itself and the conversations that often grow up around it are plenty), and, as a reader, I continue to read despite its being so San Francisco-centric. Not only do I dislike San Francisco, but it’s frustrating to read about so many things I can’t do and attend. Will there ever be a Rumpus East? Seems unlikely, but I keep reading and writing anyway, because The Rumpus really is different.
I’m just a curious onlooker, but I was mesmerized by the prospect of reading The Instructions early, so I signed up for the book club in October. Anyhow, there was some mail-based malfunction, and after a few weeks of waiting, I thought I’d shoot an e-mail to someone about my sad state of booklessness. Having had a bad “customer experience” with several sites I used to admire, I expected the worst (defensiveness, snarky meta-commentary about my complaint and the burdens of a startup, what have you). But Isaac replied in the most gracious way, and I was instantly won over. And yes, it took another few weeks for the book to actually land on my desk, but it was handled with such grace that in the end, it didn’t matter at all. If you have good, responsive people representing your brand, so to speak, you’re on the right path.
Maybe this is simplistic, but still: don’t start ‘innovating’… don’t gimmick up and try new tricks unless there’s a solid reason (good idea: Book Club. Bad idea: monetization). Don’t abandon your (mild, but present nonetheless) regionality– for West Coast writers, at least speaking for myself, it’s nice to find a center that ain’t New York. Keep creating and promoting community in that unsolemn way The Rumpus has, which seems somehow to recognize that here is a solitary activity practiced by lonely and isolated fools who largely lack social skills and are big on despair and self-pity and the sort of arrogance necessary to sustaining the solipsism of creation and who still, inevitably, acutely, need now and again to feel there are a few other ink-stained wretches out there who still care about literature.
I am a frequent reader and an infrequent contributor, but this seemed like a good time to weigh in, plus work is slow today. I stumbled here accidentally through a cross link from some blog or another, loved the writing, and I’ve been reading it daily every since. I don’t have much free time to contribute, but I read Stephen’s emails daily, and the site most every day. Even from that distance, I still feel connected to a community that is extremely comforting. For that, I don’t care if you do advertising, and I’m happy to kick a few bucks your way whenever I’m able.
Every one here has already said it. Keep seeking truth, and keep doing what your doing and I’ll hang around a long while.
P.S. How can I get Issac’s agent? He’s got a nice group of advocators in this thread, either that or a penchant for signing up under multiple user names.
The Rumpus could possibly look towards other sites that have maintained both viability and atmosphere despite linear growth and visibility. One of the sites that comes immediately to mind is Metafilter, which has done an amazing job of keeping its “Mefi-ness” despite almost exponential growth and a constantly evolving membership. While it has devolved slightly (to be expected with the law of entropy) it is still mostly the same website it was ten years ago. Despite Metafilter being a different kind of site, perhaps investigating the ways in which Matt Haughey and the other moderators approach it would be useful, especially considering The Rumpus is also community oriented.
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