The Saturday Rumpus Essay: Remembering Molly
Ten years later I still wondered about those aviator glasses and whether The Breakfast Club could restore us.
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The Saturday Rumpus Interview: Karrie Higgins
The more narratives that approach reality "differently" get treated as "insane" or "unreal," the less readers are exposed to them, and the more "unreal" or "insane" they seem. It's like a feedback loop.
The Saturday Rumpus Essay: Wanting To Dance
It just felt so comfortable to slide back into singing, “She Loves You,” and know for that moment, everything was the same.
The Sunday Rumpus Essay: There Will Be Blood
It is 1980, I am twelve years old, and there is so much blood.
Changing the Subject
Does the time come for everyone when holding it in just won’t do anymore? I kept the story of my abortion to myself until Michael broke up with me two years later.
He Doesn’t Wanna Be Here
It wasn’t until my mom came over after work and told me my brother had confessed to her that he'd been using heroin for two years and needed help that I knew I’d seen him with a needle in his arm.
Don’t Dream It’s Over
One of the surest indicators of change on the horizon (per the standard tropes of dream interpretation) is being pregnant in a dream.
Song of the Day: “These Days”
The aptly dubbed neo-blues duo The Black Keys have made a name for themselves by giving an old and hallowed genre a fresh sheen. Since forming in 2001, the hard-touring…
Third Drink Decisions
In the years before he showed up in Lubbock, he wandered the streets of downtown Dallas near Fair Park.
A Letter to Eric
What follows is a love letter to my twenty-six-year-old brother Eric, written shortly after he overdosed on heroin. He survived.
The Wild Thing With People Feet Was My Favorite
The one with people feet, I thought, had once been human, but had changed. He grew wild. Everyone grew wild at times...
