death
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The Rumpus Interview with George Hodgman
Editor and author George Hodgman talks about his new memoir, Bettyville, what makes for a good memoir, and returning to his hometown of Paris, Missouri from New York to take care of his aging mother.
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Super Hot Prof-on-Student Word Sex: Liz Prato
Liz Prato talks about her debut story collection, Baby’s on Fire, why she enjoys the process of revision, and what the phrase “literary citizenship” means to her.
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Rapid Fire
Stanton re-gathered himself, still wearing a smile after being shot in the face, and went back to work.
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The Saturday Rumpus Review of It Follows
It Follows interrogates its patriarchal ancestry and forges a unique and clever film in the process.
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Rolling in Carrion
Colin Dickey writes about death and its metaphors. Our dog has an insatiable curiosity and a love of these dead things. The time he dove into the wreck of a carcass that I could not even identify was the most…
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The Saturday Rumpus Essay: Waiting for the Tape to Rewind
I started watching as if I were dropping by to say hello.
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Out on the Coast
When he was five, six, seven, and eight, Max spent most of the summer thinking about the whale, sitting in his room with the shades drawn remembering the first visit and looking forward to the second, just before the new…
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Sipping Dandelion Wine
Henry Stewart waxes nostalgic on Ray Bradbury for Electric Literature—he points at coming of age, the lessons we learn, and how the whole of life can be found in The Martian Chronicles.
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Coyotes and Roses
I was a man and when the time came for my shot, I pulled the trigger and painted the prairie with coyote blood. Glenn was right. Being eaten while alive was unacceptable; the coyotes had to die.
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The Rumpus Interview with Kenny Porpora
Kenny Porpora discusses his memoir The Autumn Balloon, addiction and alcoholism, writing truthfully about his mother, falling asleep at Burger King with his laptop while drafting, and how he finally found his personal writing style.
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The Saturday Rumpus Essay: Stars Hollow, Revisited
They always find their way back to one another again.
