Rumpus Original
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Readers Report: Too Much, Too Soon
A collection of short pieces written by Rumpus readers pertaining to the subject of “Too Much, Too Soon.”
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The Rumpus Interview with Yaa Gyasi
Yaa Gyasi discusses her debut novel Homegoing, growing up in Alabama, the multiplicity of black experiences, the legacy of slavery, and her writing process.
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The Rumpus Review of Ghostbusters
An agenda can only exist when there is a contingent opposing it. We only push for representation when so many hours and characters of wrath are poured into keeping us out.
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My Life with Annie Lennox: A Christmas Cornucopia
Perhaps part of what prompted me to get clean and sober was the fact I kept making myself uncomfortable.
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The Rumpus Book Club Chat with Saša Stanišić
The Rumpus Book Club chats with Saša Stanišić about his novel Before the Feast, the challenge of writing a plural narrator, working with a translator, and book tours in Germany.
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Sound & Vision: John Holmstrom, Roberta Bayley, and Chris Stein
John Holmstrom, Roberta Bayley, and Chris Stein discuss punk music, legendary rock venue CBGB, the philosophy of punk, and Johnny Power Ranger toys.
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The Rumpus Review of Multiple Choice by Alejandro Zambra
But the problem of making fiction is just one of the many problems a reborn country must figure out.
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Boy of My Youth
In my desperate attempts to keep my secret I learned to shut everyone out, to become as closed as a fist.
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The Rumpus Interview with Andi Zeisler
Andi Zeisler, co-founder of Bitch and author of the new book We Were Feminists Once: From Riot Grrl to CoverGirl, discusses capitalism, breast implants, pop culture, and feminism.
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Milwaukee. Rust. A Baby.
By the light of early morning, I am writhing in pain again, the drugs are done. But there is a tiny creature—mammal, female—attached to my breast. That is supposed to make it more bearable.
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The Saturday Rumpus Interview: Leslie Pietrzyk
Think about the stories you have inside that scare you. That’s what you should be writing.
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Monkey Men
Still lying on the bed in the Wausau hotel room, I started counting ceiling tiles. From above the covers. Not under. Never under. I always feel constricted, under.