The Great Film Festival Swindle
"Never pay an entry fee. If they won’t give you a waiver they aren’t interested in the film."—Programmer for a major film festival
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Stephen Elliott
34 posts
Stephen Elliott is the author of eight books, including The Adderall Diaries.
Dear McSweeney’s: Two Letters from Stephen Elliott
I’ve been traveling for two weeks and people prone to the kind of thoughts I’m prone to should never be alone out in the world.
An Oral History of Myself #15: Neil Elliott
This is probably one of those interviews where I should keep my mouth shut but you're my son.
Bombing the Bookclub
We had a number of people quit The Rumpus Book Club today because I wrote in a Daily Rumpus email that Israel should stop bombing Gaza.
The Saddest Story I’ve Ever Read
"She began to nod. She was holding onto a carton of milk. It would spill. Like diarrhea-in-the-bed all over again. Another mess. The daughter tried to take the carton of milk away. She… held on defiantly." - From I Want To Live by Thom Jones
The Rumpus Interview with Audrey Petty
In the gripping first-person accounts of High Rise Stories, former residents of Chicago’s iconic public housing projects describe life in the now-demolished high rises.
The Rumpus Interview With Michelle Orange
We sat on my bed, our backs against the wall, talking about her essay collection, This Is Running For Your Life.
The Rumpus Interview with Dave Eggers
Dave Eggers's new novel, A Hologram For The King, (due out from McSweeney's June 28) is set in Saudi Arabia.
My Little Brother Ruined My Life
"Are you a masochist?" It's the first thing Bosco asks me. He's fourteen years old now, almost my height, 5' 8", creamy white skin, and a small, German nose from my stepmother's side of the family.
The Rumpus Interview with Marie Calloway
In late November Marie Calloway, a twenty-one year old college student, published on her blog a long essay about sleeping with a writer twice her age.
An Oral History of Myself #13: Mato
I went to a Catholic school. I was a shy kid and got beat up by girls. I would express myself through drawings; that's how I made friends. So when I transferred to the public school in fifth grade I had this chip on my shoulder.
