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Rumpus Articles
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Poetic Lives Online: Links by Brian Spears
The Sycamore Review paid someone for a poem. It cost them a quarter and the poem was written on a bar napkin. Sounds like a worthwhile trade. Kent Johnson on The New British School Publishing an e-version of your book?…
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But Not for Long
Michelle Wildgen’s second novel traces the residents of a sustainable-food co-op through crises, adjustments, and reinventions.
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Science Saturday
The jokes write themselves sometimes–on the same day that the sitting President of the US wins the Nobel Peace Prize, we bombed the moon. To be fair, we had warned the moon repeatedly about pulling all that romantic shit. When…
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The Last Book I Loved: Dark Sky Question by Larissa Szporluk
So this book isn’t totally obscure, having won the 1997 Barnard New Women Poets Prize, but Dark Sky Question by Larissa Szporluk still deserves a dose of the spotlight. A blurb from Gregory Orr describes Szporluk as a kind of…
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Saturday Morning Links
It’s Saturday morning and you know what that means. It means I need a drink. Two gun puns in the title? Come on, y’all. I’m with Sadie here: what kind of couples do this to each other? Rush Limbaugh wants…
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Victoria Marini: The Last Book I Loved, The Testament of Gideon Mack
The books I love and have loved in the past I have chosen almost always by the recommendations of others.The last book I loved, I loved with an added fever and thrill of having discovered it on my own. The…
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FUNNY WOMEN #4: The Importance of Attitude
My husband enjoys scuba diving. Prior to meeting my present spouse, I had never entertained the notion of going diving, as it combines three things I generally try to avoid: doing equations, wearing a rubber bodysuit, and drowning.
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DFW Reacts to Infinite Jest Cuts
“p. 52 – This is one of my personal favorite Swiftian lines in the whole manuscript, which I will cut, you rotter. p. 82 – I cut this and have now come back an hour later and put it back.…
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Rumpus Flash Fiction: “Simoom,” by Anna North
When my father left and my mother went crazy and carved into every wooden surface of our house a name that wasn’t hers or his, I asked what she was doing. She made me get down the dictionary. “Simoom,” I…