Rumpus Original Fiction: “Bobcat” by Rebecca Lee
The Rumpus welcomes Madras Press and proudly offers an excerpt from "Bobcat," by Rebecca Lee.
Blogs
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Ted Wilson Reviews the World #9
THE BIBLE ★★★★★ (1 out of 5) Hello, and welcome to my week-by-week review of everything in the world. Today I am reviewing the Bible.
The Last Book I Loved: The Romantic Dogs
I always blanch when someone tells me—and always so assuredly, it seems—“ I just don’t really like poetry.” It’s more people, more otherwise avid readers than I would like to think.
FUNNY WOMEN #6: Finally! A Job That Requires My Skill Set
Please only apply if you are a proven insomniac who would not think of getting into an office before noon.
The Blurb #12: On Disturbance
The deciders of the Publishers Weekly Best 10 list “ignored gender and genre and who had the buzz.” Which is kind of brilliant in a way. Because everyone knows if you ignore things, you can maybe make those things go away.
DEAR SUGAR, The Rumpus Advice Column #25
Them’s your options. It really depends on your priorities.
Ted Wilson Reviews the World #8
A HAT MY NEPHEW FOUND ON THE BUS ★★★★★ (1 out of 5) Hello, and welcome to my week-by-week review of everything in the world. Today I am reviewing a…
A FAN’S NOTES, The Rumpus Sports Column #17: The Spider, the Simpleton and the Nonchalant Catch
Imagine a World Series primer narrated by Kenny Powers, the mullet-headed hero of the HBO comedy series “Eastbound and Down.”
The Last Book I Loved: The Feverhead
I’m a promiscuous lover of books. I treat each one as if it’s the only—there will never be another after, there were none before. This is the last book I read and the last book I loved.
The Blurb #11: A Fresh Eye
Why do so many of us, as readers or maybe as a society, assume that originality springs forth out of nothing, although at the same time we understand that every idea, every story, has a precedent?
FUNNY WOMEN #5: What We Were Really Saying
Me I verb you. Him I similarly feel for you in this way, but I’ll never say the word verb. I have feelings only only when I feel like it.
The Last Poem I Loved: “Made Flesh” by Craig Arnold
I met the poet Craig Arnold only once. It was late February or early March of this year.