"Buy the Fanciful Ones: A Tale of New Shoes" Published!

Excellent news! A light-hearted CNF flash memoir piece I wrote a few months ago about new shoes was just published at The Bluebird Word.

Read the piece here: “Buy the Fanciful Ones: A Tale of New Shoes” [clickety-click].

This has been a wild and wonderful week so far: I got a rejection letter this morning for some poetry, then I got word this afternoon that my shoe piece was published, and I have another piece that was accepted a few weeks ago which will be published this week as well. Stay tuned, and thanks for all of your continued support!

Write on through all the lows and highs of this writing life—you just never know what’s next. 🎉

P.S. Here are the mentioned shoes. 😁

Reach 🤩

Reach

Sketch in colored pencils & black felt-tip pen.

I haven’t shared a doodle in a while, so I figured it was about time to break out my sketchbook and play a bit.  

I was thinking yesterday, too, about swing-arm lamps. The kind architects often have on their desks, but sometimes also students and offices. I didn’t know that they were referred to as “swing-arm” lamps until a quick search-engine search delivered that little golden nugget into my life, which I now share with you. 😉

Speaking of innovation and knowledge, I read a book two or three years ago about the Bauhaus, a German school of design, arts (including theater, sculpture, pottery, stained glass, wooden toys, and poster design), and architecture in 1919-the early 1930s. Fine arts and crafts and some very sharp-looking designs were created by young students and their professors which continue to inspire designers of furniture and architecture. They made innumerable creations in their carpentry and metal-working workshops, from chairs and swivel lamps and photography and arts posters for theater performances given at the school to coffee-and-tea sets and glassworks and weaving and you name it. If the design was geometric, spare, innovative, and functional during that time period, it was probably cooked up and refined at the Bauhaus.  

I’ve never owned a swing-arm lamp, nor a gooseneck lamp (which I think of as their fanciful second cousin), but I’ve often admired both. There’s something very appealing about the way they’re designed—form and function working hand-in-glove. They don’t just sit there stationary, but offer instant flexibility for the user. Wherever the light is needed, le voilà! Here we go; instant warm spotlight. Then, economically pushed back when not in use—until the next time.

Continued growth as a writer often requires a reaching process that combines a hearty blending of the initial sizzle of the imagination intermingled with the stability and support of consistent application, mixing the heat of creating with the cooler temperatures of refining and editing the vision into new forms for sharing.

This end-of-year time gets all of our gears turning with goals we’ve finished and those we haven’t and those we’d like to dream up for next year. Without putting pressure on ourselves (because nobody needs more of that!), it’s a good season for this kind of if-you-can-imagine-it-you-can-make-it-happen reflection.

It’s a good time for downshifting, daydreaming, and putting some plans into action for the coming months.  I have the kind of mind that needs no encouragement to cook up a project or ten and imagine the endless permutations and exciting possibilities. I also have the kind of mind (and enough experience as a writer and creative) to know it takes time, organization, trial-and-error patience, and planning to see a project to its conclusion so that it’s ready to share. I try to give my imagination free reign for a while, and then I begin to organize that wide expanse into a series of steps (accounting for setbacks and a learning curve along the way).

I’m cooking up some fun projects for 2024 that I can’t wait to share. At the moment, one project in particular is very new, wobbly, interesting ground for me, stretching what I already know with the many, many things I don’t. It includes a-million-and-one steps that I’m learning (and reading about and trial-and-erroring and trying-again-and-againing).  Stay tuned!

I am delighted to share that I have three online classes that I hope will inspire fellow creative writers and artists to invest in their own dreams and goals and talents as well as to try new creative goals that will inspire reaching into new territory as well.

If you have a friend you haven’t purchased a gift for yet or would like to invest in your own artistic process, I’d love to work with you and a friend! Mark your calendars. All three courses accepting sign-ups now 😊:

*In Tune: Writing about Music in Fiction (starting Friday, February 2, 2024; 4-week class; NEW!):

https://wow-womenonwriting.com/classroom/MelanieFaith_Music.php

*An Inside Look at Launching as a Freelance Editor (one-afternoon webinar; 1-2 pm ET; Friday, April 12, 2024)

https://wow-womenonwriting.com/classroom/MelanieFaith_FreelanceEditorWebinar.php

*Art Making for Authors (starting Friday, August 2, 2024; 4-week class; NEW!)

https://wow-womenonwriting.com/classroom/MelanieFaith_ArtMaking.php

I also have craft books aplenty that make excellent gifts, such as: From Promising to Published:

Here’s to reaching into our imaginations and cooking up the projects that will interest and sustain our creative growth both now and throughout 2024!

Write on!

 

“Interior/Exterior: Reflections on Drawing a Scene” 🖼️

Happy March! I had so much fun writing a fresh flash essay about my doodle last month that I decided to create another one to share. 🤗

“Interior/Exterior: Reflections on Drawing a Scene”

I almost wrote this reflection yesterday afternoon, but I was hungry and promised myself that after eating I’d get right to it.  And then, I just needed to pay a bill quickly and I’d sit right down and write. And then, I remembered a time-sensitive email, and then…well, you know the rest.

Yesterday’s writing didn’t happen.  

Alas, I had the “perfect” hook pop into my head yesterday, but tonight is no longer yesterday. So, scrap that. My tone today is different, and my hook has evaporated like a cartoon bubble. So be it. This reflection won’t be about whatever that would have been, and that’s okay, too.

Earlier this week, I also promised myself some time to doodle during a break, and I did follow through on that intention. I decided to try to draw a scene—a whole interior SCENE!—which I haven’t attempted since…probably middle school. Yeah, it’s been a hot minute.

I usually doodle one thing at a time, or parts of a scene, or words/phrases paired with a mini doodle or two, but to fill a whole sheet with myriad elements kept my brain and my hand hopping.

I put on some music, broke out a coffee-table book filled with gorgeous photos, picked the one that called to me most as a reference photo that I then adjusted as I went.

I started my scene on a scrap piece of newsprint paper I bought online this summer in a jumbo, 500-sheet package.

There’s something about knowing that I’m not going to save the first drawing because it’s on the kind of paper that tears when an eraser hits it that frees up my creativity. Nobody will ever see this first sketch so, who cares? Onward!

Without contemplation first, hand motions of pencil on paper are often quite soothing.

I try to get that way about more things: that not skipping ahead to envision outcome. Sometimes, my creative process lands, and I don’t stop to examine or even to think about forming whatever I’m creating until I have a draft or five. Those are the best days.

More often, though, my mind loves nothing more than just to keep skipping ahead. Ahead, ahead, ahead!

I’m certainly not the only creative to find my process varies like this. Depending on my day, my mood, how tired I am, how hungry I am, fill-in-the-factor-here, the challenge of crafting something is either easier than imagined, or more frustrating than imagined, or (most frequently for me) somewhere in-between, but it’s rarely the same type of journey more than once.

Each piece needs something different of us, like every friend, like every life circumstance.

My original sketchbook scan in all of its uncropped glory, spirals and all.🤗

So, my interior scene (which I also drew in pencil first, free-hand, on the sketchpad page and then traced with felt-tipped marker and pops of color from watercolor pencils) has some walls that are certainly not architecturally sound, a baseboard that shouldn’t look like it’s cutting through one of the plant’s fronds, some picture frames that are crooked despite practicing perspective, and a chair that I’m pretty sure doesn’t even resemble a chair.

On the other hand, I got the happiest kick while drawing the arched doorway between the rooms that reminded me of more than one friend’s home, and drawing the little locks on the big bay window, and then having a light-bulb moment about adding in a pop of life-giving green on the plants, and attempting some splash of light across the floors, and making the one rug a sisal rug with squiggle motions, and then drawing lines for wooden floors, my favorite flooring—all, nothing but joy and in the flow. 

The floors!

The wooden floors. That’s right—I was going to write something about those yesterday.

There was also originally going to be something about the lemonade I tried recently and loved. But today’s reflection needed to be the way it turned out here—about the challenges (for me, anyway) of drawing whole scenes in scale and with perspective but doing it anyway, and something about the comfort of putting elements together that make an interior that becomes exterior, which is also, pretty much, what we do when we create, whether it’s a conversation, a painting, a poem, a dance, or a birthday party. So be it.

On the balance, not bad for a cozy interior. Not great or professional, but not shabby, either.  Onward!

 

To 2023! 🎉

I bought this fanciful party horn at a greeting-card store and have lost track of when.

Doodle by yours truly. Mechanical pencil, Paper Mate Flair Medium and Arteza Bold 1.0 mm pens, and sketchbook paper. Digital filter used in larger version seen below.

It doesn’t have a year on it and the store is now out of business. It has golden paper that shimmers and a fluffy frill of ebony feathers that I think gets prettier with time.

It’s a little crooked (in real life and in my drawing) but holds a lot of hope and cheer.

Each time this calendar year we get to start over, to reset, to look ahead in art and in life, and that feels fitting and good. Thanks for all of your camaraderie and support.

Here we go, 2023! To all that we’ll create and experience in the year ahead!

New Month, New Word-Art Drawings ✒️

I have a penchant for doodling everyday things. Things people kind of hurry past. Things that are utilitarian but that are integral and, well, handy.

I bought these scissors before Christmas a few years ago at a discount store; they were around $3. I stood before the display for way too long, comparing and contrasting the red-and-white chevron pairs to the green-and-white chevron pairs. In the end, green won out by a slim margin. Like my ‘90s film cameras, they have a nice heft to them and are neither too clunky nor too crowded in my grip. I most often use them for cutting the little shipping label before sending away my film to be developed. Now and again, I pull them from the drawer and find a little something that just has to be trimmed for the satisfaction of using them.

I picked this daisy dress online during the first months of Covid, during quarantine. I noticed it because I wanted the happiest possible design I could find. It’s a Kelly green with white daisies with yellow centers. The last time I had a dress with daisies on it, I was 22 and getting ready to walk across a graduation platform. That dress was black-and-white checked and mostly covered with my graduation gown. This dress I put on during days when it’s gray as a crayon and raining. Or days when I want a spring in my step. Or just days where the green pops out at me as I stand before my closet. Green has always felt a color of calm strength, renewal, and hope to me. There needs to be very little reason for a daisy pattern. This is the first time I’ve drawn a hanger or the drape of this dress. I got the proportions of the sleeves a little too long, but the daisy chain on my joy’s -y was a spark of last-minute inspiration and great fun.

For more versions of these drawings, check out my Instagram page: https://www.instagram.com/writepath99/ .

It's Book Birthday Time! 🤩

Welcome to the world, From Promising to Published! Super excited for this book birthday, so I’m burning the midnight oil to ring in publication day. 🎇📔

Get your copy at Vine Leaves Press, Amazon, or my Etsy shop for signed copies.

Fabulous cover by Jessica Bell at Jessica Bell Design.

Upcoming Writing Class: Flash Writing! 📝

Super excited to offer my Flash Writing class this summer! Mark your calendars now, and I’d love to have you and a friend join me for this online workshop, starting Friday, July 1, 2022.

Sign-ups are now open.

More info: Featured Online Flash Writing Workshop: In a Flash!

I’ll be using the book I wrote on this topic, which is also available and handy-dandy for all writers, whether you’re in the market for a class or for a prompt-filled read to get those words flowing.

In a Flash book

In a Flash e-book

Signed Copies

✨ "3 Suggestions on a Saturday Night" ✨

I have the pleasure of guest blogging today at Nicole Pyles’ wonderful blog, World of my Imagination.

Check out my “3 Suggestions on a Saturday Night” for some literary, movie, and audio amusements.

Book Ad Fourth Page Color 5-20 Photography For Writers 3.125 x 4.625 1_4 page ad - color.jpg