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The Rumpus Interview With Caroline Paul And Wendy MacNaughton, where they talk about their new book, Lost Cat.
MacNaughton: We did get someone on Goodreads who gave us a lot of stars, but said, Be warned: they are lesbians and atheists.
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“There are peregrine falcons around now. We have them here in San Francisco, in large part due to the persistence of some very brave ornithologists wearing the copulation hat for more than a decade.” — The Rumpus Interview with Jon Mooallem, who has a new book: Wild Ones: A Sometimes Dismaying, Weirdly Reassuring Story About Looking at People Looking at Animals in America. -
“We went to Viracocha on Valencia Street and the store felt like it could be a cabin in the woods, especially the lending library. The man who worked in the lending library, sat there, reading comfortably in what looked like a reading nook. I imagined we were not in a store in the city but in a cabin in the woods. This man was reading in his cabin and when we left, he would open the door and go on a hike where the air smelled like pine.” — From Zoë Ruiz’s Links I Like. -
It is 1976. In the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood of San Francisco, a group walks into a park. Some are carrying a coffin, and others dance around the wooden box. Flowers droop from their hair, from their fingers, from the coffin. The hippies chant, they sing, they light the coffin in a burning moment of drug-induced symbolism.
Within the crowd is a bald-headed, bearded man. He carries a sketchpad that, if he were sitting cross-legged, would be big enough to cover his knees. He is not a reporter. “The funeral is over, but the corpse is still grooving,” he writes. The man is Shel Silverstein.
Heidi Sistare’s Attention, Attention discusses the “freewheeling, shaggy, peripatetic, roving, bawdy, hirsute, and saucy” genius of Shel Silverstein.
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“The times I most loved San Francisco were those times in which I couldn’t talk about it – rushing around corners on my bicycle so that sights and noises turned algae-colored and silent, the moments in the morning before opening the tiny café, walking through the thickly dark park at night as the incoming fogbank pulled over the moon. Or when my tonsils had just been cut out of my throat.” —The Last City I Loved: San Francisco, by The Rumblr’s own Lucy Schiller!
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We’re teaming up with KQED Pop and Do415 to present Spring Fever: A Night of Literature, Live Radio, Comedy and Music!
Join us at for a feverous night at San Francisco’s Verdi Club on Friday, April 19th, 7pm. Free with RSVP!
Featuring comedian Sean Keane, literary super-team Wendy MacNaughton and Caroline Paul, KQED Science reporter Lauren Sommer, Amy Standen of KQED’s Quest and New York Times contributor Chris Colin.
Music provided by Indie electro pop outfit James & Evander and a very special surprise musical headliner!
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Spotlight: In San Francisco, There Is a Street —Liam Golden’s lovely and long comic illustrating a French children’s song of yesteryear. A song found by Paul Eluard, and then Georges Perec, and then the Rumpus, and then you. Head over to read the rest!
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Our newest Rumblr editor, Lucy Schiller, who joined Claire and my illustrious ranks this past week, has a lovely piece in Thought Catalog about trying to make things work in new homes and old ones. (She is Rumbling today, say hello!)
When it falls, the snow doesn’t seem like the kind of snow that fell in high school, it’s fatter and slower. My room is now a weird lavender color and full of my mother’s academic treatises on the history of dirty jokes. I’m not sure how or when to leave. There are no hills to bicycle down, just red brick streets stretching like dingy tongues out into farmland.
