My Dramatic Monologue Published! 🎉

Excellent news! A poem of mine with a new character in a historical poetry series I’ve been working on was just published today at Songs of Eretz!

Check out the poem, and then head over to the issue to read my complete notes about the poem, to see a historical photograph of an iron lung, and to read the work of the talented fellow poets in the issue, which is dedicated to dramatic monologues. 🎉

Flora in the Iron Lung and the Mirror

Melanie Faith

I don’t want to be a complainer. It’s good,

it’s exceedingly good that you’re here. You

came all this way. You look well. You look

so handsome, but then, you always did. I wish

I could reach out of this machine and touch you

after all this time. I wish… well,

let me dwell on something

easier. Let me tell you something nice

Sister Mary Joseph, the afternoon nurse, did.

She’s the young one who wrote to you. Yes,

her penmanship is impeccable. Well,

she sat reading to me. One day,

out of nowhere, she stopped

mid-sentence, and she looked over

and something like sunlight broke over

her face: You know, I see no reason why

we couldn’t jimmy-rig a mirror

right up here. She put the book

upside-down on her seat. That’s how

my machine grew this mirror. She left the room,

came right back.

Sister Mary Joseph’s the tall one—

you haven’t met her—

it didn’t take much for her to reach up and

add it to my machine. You could call it

a fancy modification for my entertainment,

my instant twin and constant company.

I make faces at myself now

into the long hours when there’s nobody

and nothing else.

You’d be surprised on

an endless stretch of days, how many faces

you can pull—butterfly-pinned as I am

inside this darned machine—with just a nose,

two lips, a tongue, and two eyes that

never stop seeing.

Poet’s Notes: This poem is a part of a recent collection I’m working on writing about (among other things): an iron lung, a librarian, and a love triangle. This poem explores polio patient Flora, whose childhood flame, Harry, visits her sickbed. This visit sets off the conflict between Harry and his current love, Helen (the protagonist librarian).   

Read the rest at Songs of Eretz, Winter issue.

My Poem Published in Dulcet! 🦄

Thrilled to announce that my poem. “Legacy,” was published today in Dulcet! My poem is on page 44. The theme is “Moonglades: A Reflective Issue.”

It’s also a great joy to be publication twins with my talented friend, Terri McCord; check out her amazing poem, “the world turns pointillist,” on page 21!

Dulcet is open for submissions. Check out their theme calls and submission guidelines at: clickety-click.

Photo courtesy of Camille Brodard at Unsplash.com.

My Flash Fiction Published at Bright Flash Literary Review! 🎉

I’m excited to announce that my flash fiction, “It was just supposed to be,” was published this week at Bright Flash Literary Review! 📚

Check out my story below as well as the awesome stories by fellow authors at their current issue. If you write flash, consider submitting, too.

“It was just supposed to be”

a quick zip through aisle seven and back.

Somebody said she’d moved outside Rawston somewhere after, so it never occurred to him that Tuesday before New Year that he’d turn the corner with the laundry detergent in his right hand and there was Maisy.

“Hey,” was all he thought to say.

“My sister needed a few things,” she half-smiled.

Photo courtesy of Eduardo Soares on Unsplash.com, free stock

There was a baby strapped onto her in one of those carrier things he didn’t know the name of. She was someone’s mom now. That was weird, and new. Fifteen years together. They never. He never thought she’d wanted one. He didn’t. Doesn’t.

The baby bopped legs and arms in herky-jerky movements. The baby had Maisy’s curls. 

“Just getting this,” and he held up the neon plastic jug like he was proving something, as if until he’d pointed it out it’d been invisible.

Should he have said something, asked about the baby—Maisy’s baby—a name maybe? An age? He hadn’t seen any teeth when the baby had grinned at Maisy, but how old are kids when they get front teeth? Do back ones come in first?

Maisy had bounced a bit on the balls of her feet near the stacked boxes of soda crackers; the baby laughed in reply. They made a tableau together like he’s seen mothers and kids do on TV.

“Yep, everyone needs clean clothes,” she said.

She looked tired in her eyes, but happier than she ever was their last few years. Calmer somehow.

“Good…good point. Hey, great seeing you,” he said, because he could think of nothing else to say but random inanities. The baby’s hair the exact raven black of Maisy’s the night they’d met as freshmen. He’s got some grays now.

The baby had some other guy’s eyes. Weird. He’d turned away.

“You, too, Darvin,” she said, using her sympathy voice.

The baby kicked into cracker boxes, and the front one wobbled but didn’t fall.

“Look what you’ve done, little cutie. Yes, you, my little cutie,” Maisy cooed and laughed.

He ducked into aisle four; he dropped the detergent onto a random shelf. No longer any energy left for waiting in line, for another possible sighting. He couldn’t. He was outta there.

He lightninged through electronic double doors, out of breath but not running.

He’ll grab another detergent at the QuickShop after work tomorrow and stew about Maisy tonight.  He leans back in the tan recliner; they’d picked it for their first apartment after college. He’d liked the red one, but Maisy said tan would go with more things. She’d been right about that. About more than that, he guessed. 

He should take his mother up on her offer to reupholster it.

“Give it a new look,” Mom had said. “Or else donate it to charity, get something new.”

Yeah, but the chair’s the last thing left from their years together.

He keeps the living room lights off tonight; his laptop casts a pale green light that wobbles against the opposite white wall, the same color it was when he moved in.

Is Maisy still at her sister’s on Root Lane? Seven miles is nothing; how easily he could jump in his truck, drive out that way. Just to see.

He presses back into the tan upholstery, but there’s nowhere further to go. It was far easier when he could think of Maisy as alone, like him, near Rawston at night.

He feels it in his gut: Maisy’s gone home to the man whose eyes the baby shares. Their baby.

Biography:  Melanie Faith is a night-owl writer and editor who likes to wear many hats, including as a poet, photographer, professor, and tutor. Three of her craft books about writing were published by Vine Leaves Press in 2022, including her latest, From Promising to Published. She enjoys ASMR videos, reading, teaching online writing classes, and tiny houses. Learn more at https://melaniedfaith.com/ .

My Silhouette Portrait Published in Suspended Magazine & Giveaway Reminder 📸🥳

Very pleased to have one of my photos, “Open Space Silhouette Portrait,” published in the current issue of Suspended Magazine. Check out the issue, and consider submitting poems, art, or short fiction to this amazing literary magazine: details here.

More insights from the magazine about my photo: “I’m interested in the numerous exciting permutations portraiture and self-portraiture can take. From precise likenesses to figures that could be a stand-in for almost any character or human form, the possibilities when documenting the self and others are encouraging for photographers who wish to explore. I took this self-portrait using a Nikon 35 mm DSLR, creating a window reflection and then playing with filters that introduced light leaks that offered a compelling interplay between buoyant, yellow warmth and movement against deep, calm shadows of introspection and stillness. I’m intrigued by how the finished photo suggests both anchoring and spaciousness.”

***

Also, just a reminder that Women on Writing’s Thankful for Books Giveaway runs up to November 20th! 🍂📚

Copies of my book, From Promising to Published , will be part of the prize packages for three lucky winners.

Read more and enter the contest at: Thankful for Books Giveaway!

Poetry Publication in Songs of Eretz! ✍️

I’m so pleased to announce that a poem I wrote about roller skating was published today in Songs of Eretz Poetry Review’s Spring 2023 issue! The theme is “Growth.” It’s also a great joy to appear in the same issue as my dear friend, Charles. Follow the linky-link to check out the issue, filled with poetry and photography by many talented artists.

A splendid way to start National Poetry Month! To all of the poems we’ll read, write, and celebrate this April!