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Rumpus Articles
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Rumpus Original Fiction: The Dollmaker
Sakshi can lay me over her workbench, unstitch my skin, stuff me with fur, and then sew me. She can weave her magic into me. Make me not be myself anymore.
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They’re Both and They’re Neither: A Conversation with Robert Lunday
My stepfather would always tell me, “Don’t think, act. Follow orders.” For me, I want to stop to consider the different angles.
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What to Read When Your Spirit Needs a Refresh
A reading list from India Adams, author of FOX WOMAN GET OUT!
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Sketch Book Reviews: Piping Hot Bees and Boisterous Buzz-runners
Seeley uses historical studies, new findings, charts/graphs, and his absolute love of bees to teach readers.
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To Mother, To Remember, To Survive: A Review of Sun Yung Shin’s The Wet Hex
To be a mother is to have strength, resilience, and ferocity in the face of oppression. It is also to contain the magic and power of creating a new life, of bringing up children, of making a home and a…
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Main Character as Witness: A Conversation with Rodrigo Restrepo Montoya
To some extent, I think I was also exploring how witnessing, absorbing, and listening are related to writing, and questioning whether this is a valuable way of approaching a life. I think it can be.
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Of Streets and Saints: Pier Paolo Pasolini’s Boys Alive and Theorem
Considered together, these novels trace the triumph of consumerism over rebellion, the bourgeoisie over the underclass, capital over life.
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Escape Velocity
But neither of us has said what does matter, or what we want, only what we do not want, and there in his defensive stammering, I can play my final card: You don’t know anything about me.
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Storytellers
The first thing I learn is that storytelling is a strange art. Listening to stories all my life has not, in any way, prepared me to tell my own.
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I See Something I Can’t Shake: A Conversation with Myronn Hardy
As a poet, I’m constantly trying to make connections and see between and among things.
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ENOUGH: Words as the Way: Rediscovering my Sister and Myself Forty Years After Her Assault
No one talked about what had happened to her. No one, at least in my hearing, asked her what she needed. What she wanted. Including me.
