Kids these days. With their facebook, twitter, and texts. They’re always wasting time on the internet, bouncing from one thing to the next, hardly able to focus long enough to…
A handful of literary agencies deepen their commitment to publicity. The Dayton Literary Peace Prizes, which recognize “the power of literature to promote peace and nonviolence,” have been announced. An…
“It’s a common misperception that for some reason we should be telling stories about other people instead of ourselves.” An interview with Rumpus editor Stephen Elliott over at Memoirville. Also,…
The other week, The New Yorker published an excellent article by Caleb Crain about the peculiar economics and politics of life aboard a pirate ship in the 17th and 18th…
Author and ex-soldier for the publishing world, former Executive Editor-in-Chief of Random House and fiction editor of The New Yorker Daniel Menaker attempts to break down the industry’s struggle into…
The Art of Disappearing has been compared to The Time Traveler’s Wife, but Ivy Pochoda’s prose is lusher, her characters more melancholy, her style more mysterious.
I tried to put a lot of humor in Knockemstiff because the things that happen in my stories—if there wasn’t any humor, by the time you finished reading the book you’d probably want to kill yourself."
The Queue by Vladimir Sorokin is a great piece of Soviet satire, a sub-genre of which there’s plenty to love. Like the host of Russian satirists that preceded him–Gogol, Zoshchenko,…
Lit Drift has another Free Book Friday contest coming up. This week they’re giving away a copy of Rumpus contributor Joshua Mohr‘s Some Things That Meant the World to Me.…
Fiction writer Michelle Wittle got so tired of going over her short story that she just sent the damn thing out, assuming it had no typos. Oops. Of course, this…
We’re catching up with Shya Scanlon halfway through the serialization of his novel, Forecast, across 42 web journals and blogs. The Rumpus: How is the serialization going? How are people…
My father knew he had a jealous daughter, and I knew he was impervious: the books—and the inner life he cultivated with tremendous discipline—would always win.