My Short Story Published at Grande Dame Literary & Art Journal 🥳

Thrilled to announce that my short story, “Mama’s Favorite,” was published at Grande Dame Literary & Art Journal. ✍️

Here’s an opening excerpt:

"She wanted you to have it,” Randall says. He holds it out, between us.

What can you say to that?

I move my hip from blocking the doorway. “Come in,” I say.

I let him scooch around me. He looks really good—he’s lost a few pounds and just had a haircut. And he smells even better: woodsy, warm, and clean. I can’t take a chance he’ll “accidentally” touch his hand against mine in the hand-over.

The cutting board is made of walnut. I already have two: one I got for my first apartment before we met, one I got when I cleaned out Nan’s house, but I don’t tell Randall that. I flash back to the first Thanksgiving we went over to Mama Lainie’s. She put me to work paring and dicing the celery, which was a relief because that’s about all I knew how to do. Mama Lainie was always great that way—she could size you up without making you feel weird about it and place you exactly where you’d do your best work.

Randall sits it on the counter next to the juicer.

“You got new Formica,” he says. Never content to just let it be. “When’d you get that?”

Clickety-click to read it all (and check out the other amazing stories they publish): here

Photo courtesy of Debbie Widjaja on Unsplash free-stock

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.

50 Give or Take, #2 Published and Ready for Readers! 📚🥳

It’s here! Check out this fabulous collection of micro stories to inspire your pen: clicky.

Such a treat to have work in this volume along with talented authors from across the globe. It’s the perfect addition to your bookshelf, classroom, syllabus, holiday gift list, and more!

Shout-out and many thanks to Jessica Bell and Elaina Battista-Parsons for this amazing, page-turning volume of stories.