WWPH WRITES ISSUE 102


WWPH Writes 102… spotlights MY FRIEND WANTS TO TALK ABOUT WAR, a poem by the versatile Laura Shovan, and the debut of a new author, Edwin Fenwick, Jr., a third-year MFA student at the University of Baltimore, with his moving creative nonfiction GHOST.

Our next big project, AMERICA’S FUTURE: poetry & prose in response to tomorrow, is coming soon! This is our most ambitious anthology ever–featuring 164 writers, including an opening from Congressman Jamie Raskin, a first poem by iconic master E. Ethelbert Miller in collaboration with Mihos Kinnas, and so many more thought-provoking literary responses to what’s next. While the official pub date is September 9th, we’re having a ‘sneak preview’ end-of-summer WWPH Literary Salon on Tuesday, August 26th from 5-8 pm at the DEN downstairs in Politics & Prose (Connecticut Avenue). WWPH Literary Salons are free, three-hour gatherings that feature creative writing, readings, and discussions. Join us as we write/speak/discuss some truth to power. Please RSVP. See below for link.

On Wednesday, September 10th, from 7-8:30 pm, we are celebrating the official publication of AMERICA’S FUTURE with a VIRTUAL (ZOOM) reading under the Writer’s Center banner. Please join us. Link below. And stay tuned! We have events planned throughout the DMV through the fall, including at the Enoch Pratt Library in Baltimore on September 27th (yes, see below for details!)!

Lastly, our 50th anniversary celebration is Sunday, September 14th from 3-6 pm at the Writer’s Center. This is a rare, ticketed event for your WWPH ($50 for 50 years or $40 for Writers’ Center members). As of this writing, we have only 24 more tickets available (tickets are limited to the number of seats in the Writer’s Center theater, where we are hosting a very special celebratory reading in the first hour with Grace Cavalieri, E. Ethelbert Miller, Kathleen Wheaton, Erika Raskin and poet/performance artist Jacob Budenz, before we break out the live jazz, literary libations, and light buffet!). Tickets are available via the Writer’s Center here.

Read on!

Caroline Bock & Jona Colson
co-presidents/editors



Laura Shovan is a Pushcart Prize-nominated poet with over 100 publications in journals and anthologies, both for children and adults. Books include Mountain, Log, Salt, and Stone (Harriss Poetry Prize), The Last Fifth Grade of Emerson Elementary, Takedown, and A Place at the Table (Sydney Taylor Notable), written with Saadia Faruqi. She teaches at Vermont College of Fine Arts.

Photo credit: Linda Joy Burke



GHOST

by Edwin Fenwick, Jr.

Ghost #1
When my aunt announced to the family that my grandmother was sick, the text came as a surprise. “Mommy isn’t doing well, I need the help of the family, I can’t do this alone.”
Not knowing how serious it was—or even what condition she had—I volunteered to help.
“I’ll be there after work, and I’ll spend the night,” I texted back.
When I entered the house, the smell of urine wafted through the air and smacked me. My grandmother, once the rock of our family, was in a sweaty nightgown that swallowed her tiny and frail body. Under her were pads to catch the piss the diaper didn’t. When she saw me, she forced a smile on her zombified face. When I looked into her eyes I saw a fragmented spirit, and knew she wanted to die. Suddenly, I felt a tightness in my chest. With watery eyes, I reached out, kissing her on the forehead. Telling her everything would be ok. When in fact, I knew it wouldn’t be.

Ghost #2
“What happened to your hair?” I asked
“I told your Uncle Scooby to cut it off. I kept waking up and finding it on my pillowcase,” she uttered weakly, avoiding eye contact. I struggled trying not to react to her sickly appearance. She was unrecognizable. My heart sank, and I swallowed what felt like a lump of coal. I watched as she struggled to lift herself up in bed while grimacing. “Do me a favor,” she asked, “help me up.” I stuck my arms under hers and, with one quick swoop of a motion, slid her up, resting her head on her pillows, and ignoring the odor permeating off her body. She screamed in agony as if I had stuck her with a thousand pins.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, afraid I hurt her.
“No, it’s ok, that was good. You must have been a nurse in your past life.”
We exchanged sorrowful smiles, then silence befell the room. Speechless, I grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels to find something to watch.
“What’s new with you?” she asked, breaking the silence and changing the subject on both our minds.
“I was accepted to a master’s program at the University of Baltimore for Creative Writing. I start this fall.”
“That’s good, you always liked school. I always knew you would go to college. You never shut up about it,” she said as she giggled, which turned into a cough.
“Yeah,” I replied sadly.
We settled on Aretha Franklin and watched in movie theater silence.


Ghost #3
Weeks later, another text came through. “Mommy is stopping the chemo treatments, she didn’t like the way they made her feel,” it read. It wasn’t long after that she became bedridden. It took the strength of my uncle and me to get her out of bed, and with the help of a walker, escort her to the bathroom. Her feeble legs shook. With every movement, she cried out in pain. Watching her die was unendurable, and thinking the unspoken was torture. I couldn’t bear to watch. Months passed before my next visit.


Ghost #4
The next time I saw her, she was in a hospital bed. Propped in front of the TV in my aunt’s living room.
“Hey, Vaughn, could you get me some orange juice?”
“Ella, I’m not Vaughn,” I said, taken aback. “It’s me, Eddie.”
“Oh, well, can you get me some juice anyway. And ask Traci if I can have another pain pill yet.”
I sat at her bedside, holding conversation about anything but her health, and watched as she struggled to lift her arm to drink. The visit was brief.
“I’ll be back to see you soon,” I promised.

Ghost #5
Weeks later, I received the final text, at approximately 9:23 a.m. “Ella passed away this morning,” it read. My knees buckled. My heart turned black as a universe void of stars. With whiskey breath, I watched as the rain danced across the window.

Edwin Fenwick, Jr. is a writer of fiction and memoir. He is a third-year MFA student at the University of Baltimore and works as a Behavior Technician for Maxim Healthcare Services in Maryland, working with children with disabilities. He considers it a calling he is blessed to answer.

WWPH LITERARY SALON: AMERICA’S FUTURE EDITION! Join us for a FREE 3-hour literary salon on Tuesday, August 26th from 5-8 pm in THE DEN at Politics & Prose. SPACE IS LIMITED. Please RSVP HERE.


COMING SOON. THE FUTURE. Join us at our Virtual Launch on Wednesday, September 10th from 7-8:30 pm, ET. Hosted by the Writer’s Center. Free and Open to All. RSVP for the link here


Looking ahead, we are planning a number of readings and events to mark the publication AMERICA’S FUTURE: poetry & prose in response to tomorrow including this event in Baltimore with our friends at the ENOCH PRATT Library on Saturday, September 27th at 3 pm. Please join us for what promises to be a bold literary look at America’s Future. FREE and open to all, but please RSVP. A reception with treats for all will follow the readings and discussion. Baltimore, and all, RSVP here.


News from our friends at Streetlight Magazine down in Charlottesville, VA … the 2025 Streetlight Flash Fiction is now open until September 11th. 1st Place Prize — $175.00, 2nd place prize $100. Entry fee $15.00. www.streetlightmag.com/submissions/


News from our friends at Takoma Park, Maryland ...the City of Takoma Park’s Arts and Humanities division is seeking applications for the next poet laureate! $2,000 honorarium. Applicants must be city residents. Applications due by August 24th. More details here Poet Laureate Program | Takoma Park, MD


We are so thrilled when our WWPH award-winning books receive more accolades! Now available in print/ebooks everywhere books are sold, including at our bookshop.org affiliate page here

Thank you for being part of the Washington Writers’ Publishing House’s community!