Angélique Jamail
Angélique Jamail is a Lebanese-American author whose poetry, short fiction, and essays have appeared in over two dozen anthologies and journals, including New Reader Magazine, Waxwing, Pluck Magazine, The Milk of Female Kindness––An Anthology of Honest Motherhood, Femmeliterate, Bayou City Magazine, The Enchantment of the Ordinary, and Literary Mama, and her poetry has been featured on the radio. Her work has been nominated for Best Small Fictions and has been a finalist for the New Letters Prize in Poetry. Her novelette Finis. (Odeon Press), first published in 2014, has been praised by fiction writer Ari Marmell as having “some of the most real people I’ve encountered via text in a long time,” and by poet Marie Marshall as “a witty tale of conformity, prejudice, and transformation, in a world that is disturbing as much for its familiarity as for its strangeness.” Her poetry collection The Sharp Edges of Water came out in 2018, and Homecoming, a standalone follow-up to Finis, in 2020, both from Odeon Press. She is the Director of Creative Writing at The Kinkaid School in Houston and began serving on the Board of Directors for Mutabilis Press in December 2019. She’s also the creator of the popular zine Sonic Chihuahua. Find her online at her blog Sappho’s Torque and on social media.
website: www.AngeliqueJamail.com
blog: www.SapphosTorque.com
IG: angeliquejamail
Facebook: Angélique Jamail, Author
Twitter: @AngeliqueJamail
website: www.AngeliqueJamail.com
blog: www.SapphosTorque.com
IG: angeliquejamail
Facebook: Angélique Jamail, Author
Twitter: @AngeliqueJamail
Excerpt from Angélique's novelette Finis.:
Elsa’s parents and sister have become meaner than usual, and her cat, Jonas, resents her. She has a nagging concern he wants to eat her.
“He bit me again this morning⎯I woke up to find half the toes on my left foot in his mouth! I kicked him away but he just came back, all fangs and hissing, till I locked him in the coat closet.”
But that’s only the beginning, Elsa tries to explain to her cousin Gerard. She has to speak in short bursts: he’s conducting his water exercises, his head bobbing in and out of the water in orderly arcs. She knew she’d be interrupting his routine, but this morning’s episode has brought things to a head. On her way to work, anxiety commandeered her every thought and movement. Before she could catch her breath, she found herself tearing through Gerard’s garden gate and rushing to his salt-water pool.
“Oh, Elsa,” he says, his feet spiraling around a large stalk of kelp just below the water’s surface. He runs a watery hand across his spiky brown hair, and brine curls down his back. “What are you going to do?”
“What’s even worse, my landlord left another threat-of-eviction notice today.” She sets her briefcase down near a baby potted corpse flower and ventures closer to the pool. “I’ve done nothing wrong. My rent is always on time. I’m a quiet, orderly tenant. I thought getting a cat would mollify the building association, but unless I become a cat, I don’t think it’ll help.”
Gerard dunks, flips neatly into a ball, and spins back up; he swims to where she stands at the edge of the pool and rises. “Have you had any hints of your self?” He looks at her carefully, scrutinizing, and she wants to shrink into the empty void of mediocrity. Still, his voice is tender. “Anything at all?”
“No,” she murmurs, mesmerized by the ripples his body makes, the way the water slaps against the side of the pool and then laps backward over itself, folding the brine under to dissolve in a never-ending cycle of thrash and renewal.
Elsa’s parents and sister have become meaner than usual, and her cat, Jonas, resents her. She has a nagging concern he wants to eat her.
“He bit me again this morning⎯I woke up to find half the toes on my left foot in his mouth! I kicked him away but he just came back, all fangs and hissing, till I locked him in the coat closet.”
But that’s only the beginning, Elsa tries to explain to her cousin Gerard. She has to speak in short bursts: he’s conducting his water exercises, his head bobbing in and out of the water in orderly arcs. She knew she’d be interrupting his routine, but this morning’s episode has brought things to a head. On her way to work, anxiety commandeered her every thought and movement. Before she could catch her breath, she found herself tearing through Gerard’s garden gate and rushing to his salt-water pool.
“Oh, Elsa,” he says, his feet spiraling around a large stalk of kelp just below the water’s surface. He runs a watery hand across his spiky brown hair, and brine curls down his back. “What are you going to do?”
“What’s even worse, my landlord left another threat-of-eviction notice today.” She sets her briefcase down near a baby potted corpse flower and ventures closer to the pool. “I’ve done nothing wrong. My rent is always on time. I’m a quiet, orderly tenant. I thought getting a cat would mollify the building association, but unless I become a cat, I don’t think it’ll help.”
Gerard dunks, flips neatly into a ball, and spins back up; he swims to where she stands at the edge of the pool and rises. “Have you had any hints of your self?” He looks at her carefully, scrutinizing, and she wants to shrink into the empty void of mediocrity. Still, his voice is tender. “Anything at all?”
“No,” she murmurs, mesmerized by the ripples his body makes, the way the water slaps against the side of the pool and then laps backward over itself, folding the brine under to dissolve in a never-ending cycle of thrash and renewal.
Student Testimonials
"Ms. Jamail uses the power of model texts and her own experience in the literary world to inspire her students to channel their creativity. Gentle and thoughtful with her critiques and in discussion, she encourages her students to deepen their love and writing and discover themselves through it."
"Ms. Jamail makes the classroom atmosphere so welcoming and nurtures not only relationships between her and each of her students but encourages friendships between students as well which helps all of us write and share more easily during workshop. With time and patience my writing has improved over the years thanks to Ms. Jamail’s polished yet kind teaching and feedback."
"Ms. Jamail's classroom is an interactive and safe environment that celebrates knowledge, fosters interesting discussion, and encourages students to find their unique voice. Throughout my time in her English and Creative Writing courses, I have had opportunities to not only learn a multitude of lessons regarding the craft of writing, but also discover and refine my own style. I am truly grateful for her assignments and feedback, as they have shaped who I am as a student."
"Ms. Jamail uses the power of model texts and her own experience in the literary world to inspire her students to channel their creativity. Gentle and thoughtful with her critiques and in discussion, she encourages her students to deepen their love and writing and discover themselves through it."
"Ms. Jamail makes the classroom atmosphere so welcoming and nurtures not only relationships between her and each of her students but encourages friendships between students as well which helps all of us write and share more easily during workshop. With time and patience my writing has improved over the years thanks to Ms. Jamail’s polished yet kind teaching and feedback."
"Ms. Jamail's classroom is an interactive and safe environment that celebrates knowledge, fosters interesting discussion, and encourages students to find their unique voice. Throughout my time in her English and Creative Writing courses, I have had opportunities to not only learn a multitude of lessons regarding the craft of writing, but also discover and refine my own style. I am truly grateful for her assignments and feedback, as they have shaped who I am as a student."