loss
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The Saturday Rumpus Essay: Veronica Dies in Jamaica
Understand that she is both the gold city in my imagination and its queen, and that her death signifies the end of that dream.
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The Saturday Rumpus Essay: A House, a Girl
The day you follow me to that mound of oyster shells on the beach is the day I realize muscle and bone have been at war for a long, long time.
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The Rumpus Book Club Chat with Paul Lisicky
The Rumpus Book Club talks with Paul Lisicky about his new book The Narrow Door>/em>, how much of your story you own, and the importance of reading your own work aloud.
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The Rumpus Interview with Mira Ptacin
Author Mira Ptacin discusses her memoir Poor Your Soul, what inspires her to write, motherhood, and why she considers her beat “the uterus and the American Dream.”
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Glass Cases
What more do we remember of a story, of a life, really, than a gesture, a face, an expression frozen on the page?
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Grow
I look like springtime, everyone agrees. Soon I’ve added a pair of gloves, brand new, but stomped in the dirt for authenticity’s sake.
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Catalina
Think back to crossing Santa Monica Bay with your husband, unaware that you are pregnant. You’ll suspect it later, when one night all you want for dinner is pie, the next only sparkling water and toast.
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The Sunday Rumpus Interview: Jonathan Travelstead
I try to…consider the writing process as seriously as I do entering a house with black smoke puffing from its eaves.
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: The Sound of Galton’s Whistle
Those acres of wild were not about to cough up what I was missing no matter how much I clapped and whistled.
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What Demands Retelling
I think what demands telling and retelling and re-retelling is this: any story in which complicated grief and desperate sadness is the main character . . . Loss is really the one thing we all share, rich and poor and…
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Who Do You Cry For?
Who do we remember and why do we mourn? Teju Cole writes about unmournable bodies for the New Yorker.
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States of Mystery
The solution is that there is no good answer. There are no rules. A family member is lost. Friends disappear.