The Rumpus Interview with Wendy C. Ortiz
Wendy C. Ortiz discusses her new book Bruja, what a "dreamoire" is, the magic all around us, and why she loves indices—and cats.
Posts by tag
mothers
541 posts
The Rumpus Interview with Esmé Weijun Wang
Esmé Weijun Wang discusses her first novel, The Border of Paradise, about a multi-generational new American family, creative expression through writing and photography, and interracial relationships.
Hard to Kill
Now everything finally made sense. I had practically died and woken up, resurrected. That’s why everyone was looking at me funny. Like its cousin Death, Near-Death leaves a stench that makes people uncomfortable.
The Rumpus Interview with J.D. Vance
J.D. Vance talks about his memoir, Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis, the perils of upward mobility, and never forgetting where you come from.
Scrabbling Love
While I was in residential treatment, my Scrabble games with my mom slowed down. We both lingered over our turns, taking longer than usual to make the next move. Normally…
Missing Lorraine
I guess I was somewhat relieved that my aunt realized she wouldn’t survive another day in her apartment, and I cautiously believed that she did want to live, at least for the next ninety days.
The Murder That Shaped Our Family
When I ask her about her childhood, she draws a blank. There is only blackness to her past, her entire early life erased by the trauma of that night.
The Rumpus Interview with Brit Bennett
Brit Bennett discusses her debut novel The Mothers, investigating “what-if” moments, and navigating racism in white spaces.
The Sunday Rumpus Essay: I Know This Fireman
My father makes me cry when he starts crying and walks into the kitchen to call 911 because he doesn’t know how to fix this. He is the guy who could always fix everything.
White Noise
People never detail the confusion—the way days feel like years, and seconds like hours.
Voices on Addiction: Surrender
Somewhere along the way, the salty fresh sea breezes of the beach are replaced by the drier, more metallic air of my mother’s neighborhood. It might as well be a different continent.
Albums of Our Lives: Rosanne Cash’s Black Cadillac
In her voice, I am held, cradled even. I am equal parts longing and hope. I am home.