The Rumpus Interview with Leland Cheuk
Leland Cheuk discusses his novel The Misadventures of Sulliver Pong, dark humor, cancer, morally corrupt characters, and his mother.
Rumpus Originals
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Is Gender F***ing with Our Fantasies?
To lift the censorship, degradation, and foreclosure of girls’ fantasies, we may have to investigate the gendered limitations on how we think about early loves, impulses, celebrity crushes, and maybe, sexually stirring gentleman pirates.
Wanted/Needed/Loved: Thao Nguyen’s Release
The thing I want to talk about is something I’m not in possession of anymore, but of all the things I’ve lost it’s the thing I think about the most.
Love and Gymnastics
I didn’t want to be a ballerina. It didn’t even sound right. I wanted to be a gymnast. The word alone made me feel proud and stand a little straighter.
The Rumpus Interview with Paula Whyman
Paula Whyman discusses her debut collection You May See a Stranger, discovering truth in fiction, and how memory interferes with good storytelling.
FUNNY WOMEN #143: Feminism, the Quiz
How often do you dissemble power structures with equal-opportunity daredevildom?
David Biespiel’s Poetry Wire: 21 Poems That Shaped America (Pt. 1): “The Idea of Ancestry”
I know / their dark eyes, they know mine.
Bodies in Space: Teaching after Trauma
Turning onto my street and looking south I feel the ground drop beneath me every time—I turn the corner and the sidewalk falls. I feel invisible then, as if I’ve vaporized.
The Rumpus Interview with Stephanie Danler
Stephanie Danler discusses her debut novel, Sweetbitter, writing sensually, and the power of an authentic voice.
The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Trouble in Mind
I wasn’t blue always; my campus rape didn’t ruin my life. But at times I’ve found being a woman exhausting.
The Saturday Rumpus Essay: Twenty-Three Pieces of the Sunset Bowl
[A]ll over town, pits in the ground stayed pits in the ground. Those cavities were my consolation. For the moment, we were all in the hole.
Voices on Addiction: The Ghost Inside
But was I an alcoholic? The idea had never crossed my mind. The more I reflected on it, the less I understood.