This is what writers do–we keep each other warm–during periods of solitude when we are writing.
Henri Cole eulogizes his friend James Lord in a piece in The New Yorker, and takes a look at the power of writing to imbue the mundane with new meaning.
…I could feel the dry soil of Paris, the same soil that Baudelaire was able to transform into rhapsodic poetry.
Input your search keywords and press Enter.
The Rumpus needs your help. We need to raise $25,000 to fill our funding gap for 2024.
Our home base is Asheville, NC and Hurricane Helene severely impacted our ability to host events, launch new initiatives, and caused other significant financial setbacks this fall.
Can you support us at any level by Dec. 31? Every dollar counts and is a sign that our readers collectively value creative labor and independent publishing.
Once a week, we'll send you a roundup of what's new on the magazine, invites to upcoming events, open calls for submissions, and more!
