pets
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Cream
My lungs felt stretched thin, like a balloon that could pop, or make my whole chest rise. So, I inhaled. This is the man I married.
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The Rumpus Interview with Bronwen Dickey
Bronwen Dickey discusses Pit Bull: The Battle over an American Icon, her examination of one of the most feared dog breeds, how the media changes perceptions, and what Eliza Doolittle might have to say about this.
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Woman’s Best Friend
At The Establishment, Laura Bogart writes a heartwarming ode to her the special type of love that exists only between human and canine—the kind of love she says she’s always been searching for: Together, we built a life from endless…
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The Rumpus Interview with Nina Stibbe
Author Nina Stibbe discusses her new novel Paradise Lodge, our obsession with character likeability, and how she more than flirts with feminism.
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This Is Not a Story About a Ghost
This is a story about memory. About neurons misfiring, about the strange space between dream and awake, that feeling, when I’m falling asleep, of falling backwards, swinging my arms up to catch myself.
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Wanted/Needed/Loved: Mark and Frances Quinlan’s Favorite Things
What I want/need/love most is to be with my family.
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The Rumpus Interview with Dean Koontz
Dean Koontz talks about his newest novel, Ashley Bell, overcoming self-doubt, and “what this incredibly beautiful language of ours allows you to do.”
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Rumpus Original Fiction: People and Oranges and People
Something must remain of me, of course. Someone has to lock the door behind us when we go out.
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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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Sunday Links
This week’s Sunday Rumpus essay by Jean Kim got me thinking about the kind of retrospective realizations that make us wish we could go back in time and do something differently, or at least apologize for our inability to do…
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Dog Lab
One day, I saw on the schedule Canine Cardiophysiology Lab. By then I had already carved up human carcasses in anatomy class . . . . Memories of mellifluous verses about springtime and the stark insights of Shakespearian tragedies had…