Media

Remembering Mr. Styron

As a former Island resident, and now part-time summer one, I found myself thinking, as of late with all that’s going on in the world, of my time with one of the Island’s own, William Styron, who sadly left us some time ago.

What Remains." Great publication

It was too soon to date again when I met my now-husband. I should have been ready, but I wasn’t and never thought I would be. Coming out of my first marriage’s twisted wreckage

YOUTHFUL CHASTITY

Through blurry eyes, I notice a bottle of water on the nightstand. I ferociously attack it fumbling with the cap. The liquid can’t get down my throat fast enough, and I spill half of it on my chest

A Pause

I hadn’t been to the mountains during the warmer months in quite some time and forgot how beautiful it is. My husband was driving slowly behind the group while my little wire-haired terrier Buddy was perched…

Do I Want To Be A Nurse?

I think many of us ask ourselves, “Should I be a nurse?” before making the decision to go to nursing school. I have some friends that said they knew that they wanted to be a nurse from very early on and speak of it as some type of “calling.”

Hospital at Home: What You Need to Know

In today’s’ climate of massive healthcare systems, giant hospitals and urgent cares sit on every corner. It seems that the days of smaller, more personalized medicine is a thing of the past- or is it?

The Maura Murray Experience

I hadn’t been to the mountains during the warmer months in quite some time and forgot how beautiful it is. My husband was driving slowly behind the group while my little wire-haired terrier Buddy was perched…

The Covid Perception Disparity

The familiar ding rings out from my phone. I pick it up. GRADUATION PARTY, it reads, with the date and time. I sip my morning coffee, curious. It’s been months since I received an invite..

Wu-Tang Forever

I perk my ears hearing the familiar beat, although I can’t pinpoint the song hearing the bass from my teenage son’s room. “Cash rules everything around me, C.R.E.A.M., get the money,”

Hands

My mother’s hands frail and worked. Her crepey paper fingers and running rivers of lines pass along the hilly blue mounds of veins. Many cultures stand proud of ages proof as it displays wisdom

Letter to the Editor

Her porcelain face and pink stained cheeks a fixture on my dresser—Betty. Her spidery dark lashes awning her blue glass eyes one stuck, half shut. Her new gown is lovely. Mom’s friend made it

Run

Shoving all my socks down deep inside the duffel. The pink one I borrowed from Sam.
Throwing open my dresser, where is my sweater? It may get cold there—somewhere.

A raw, gritty New Englander, Dianne C. Braley found love for the written word early on, reading and creating stories while trying to escape hers, growing up in the turbulent world of alcoholism. After putting her pencil down for a time, she became a registered nurse finding strength and calm in caring for those who couldn’t care for themselves. Still, she never lost her drive to write, and later she found her passion again on the island of Martha’s Vineyard with the help of a famous author who became her friend and motivator.

Currently, Dianne and her family, both human, furry, and feathered, are firmly planted in a small town north of Boston but not far enough away to lose her city edge. Still, she escapes to the Vineyard every summer, picking up her pencil, resetting herself, and writing in the place that again inspired it. The Silence in the Sound is her debut novel.

Media Inquiries:

Camylle Fleming (Mindbuck Media) Camylle@mindbuckmedia.com

Dianne C. Braley diannecbraley@gmail.com