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Guess Blogger: Friday Fictioneers

Published April 9, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Many have read my story of my Friday Fictioneers beginnings before. For those who haven’t, my thanks to Phyllis for inviting me to do a guest blog.

MythRider

Friday Fictioneer is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Field. She posts a photograph and the challenge is to write a 100 word short story.

I asked Rochelle if she’d like to give us the history of how she became involved and eventually the host of FF. Here is her story:

HERDING CATS

Six years ago, as a newly published author of a short story anthology, writing and rewriting my first novel, I didn’t have much of a direction for my blog. The few articles I posted were met with overwhelming disinterest.

One April day I noticed a Facebook post by someone named Madison Woods on the Ozarks Writers League page announcing the time had come for Friday Fictioneers. I found the title intriguing so I asked her about it.

She explained that every Wednesday she put up a photo and each participant was to insert it into…

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World Travelers: Friday Fictioneers

Published July 18, 2014 by rochellewisoff

Every week at least one hundred global writers shorten the distance by sharing  their flash fictions based on a single photo prompt. I have the honor and privilege of  hosting the Friday Fictioneers challenge created by Madison Woods three years ago. I’ll probably never meet each one face to face, although I’ve been able to meet up with a few.

This past week, Friday Fictioneers Bill and Janet Webb had lunch Sandra Crook and her husband Neville on their boat in France.

The Crooks and the Webbs

From left to right: Neville and Sandra Crook, Janet and Bill Webb (who resembles neither zombie nor zed).

Also among our world travelers is Dawn Landau who lives in Washington state met with fellow fictioneer Björn Rudberg for lunch in Stockholm.

Dawn and Björn

I love putting more than faces to names, don’t you?

When Friday Fictioneers Meet

Published November 21, 2013 by rochellewisoff

HEY YOU GUYS!

If you came here expecting a 100 word flash fiction, you might be disappointed. While I realize I’m breaking my own rule by linking something other than a short story I thought this post would be of interest to Friday Fictioneers. It may not be a short story, but as you can see there is a short facilitator. 

Friday, November 15, 2013 at Ye Olde English Inn in Branson, MO, the entertainment capitol of the Midwest eight of the, sometimes, over one hundred writers met face to face and person person. photo_1From left to right: Beth Carter, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Madison Woods, Janet Webb, Karen Nelson, Russell Gayer, Jan Morrill and Kent Bonham.

photo_3Some of you may remember K.D. McCrite who wrote for Friday Fictioneers until success as an author has whisked her from our midst. She was the speaker for our morning session. She left us without excuses. 😉

photo_3 (1)

LIGHTS! CAMERA! ACTION!

FRIDAY’S BUS

Published October 18, 2012 by rochellewisoff

It’s with mixed emotions I post my story inspired by Ron Pruitt’s photo prompt. This is Madison’s last week as Friday Fictioneers leader and my last week as one just of the gang. She will be one tough act to follow.  Click here for other FF stories. Enjoy! 

My offering this week is a tribute to Madison and our diverse global community that I hope continues to grow and flourish. 

*Note: I don’t think I can put the linkz tool on my blog without upgrading. So it looks like we’ll be back to posting our blog addresses here and in our comments. I’m open to any and all feedback or instruction on this. 

****

copyright-Ron Pruitt

Apprehensions whelmed the new driver. How could she steer this behemoth? Her feet barely reached the gas pedal.

A lithe maiden with pointed ears and iridescent wings floated past her.  Next was an imposing man whose black silk cape skimmed the floor. One by one, diverse passengers stowed their baggage and found their seats.

“Welcome,” said the last in line. “I’m Russell.”

Warmed by his congenial smile she tried not to stare at his plastic clown nose and grasped his offered hand.

Zzzzzzt! His joy buzzer sent shockwaves to her shoulder.  

He chortled. “Are we there yet?” 

14 December 2018

Published December 12, 2018 by rochellewisoff

 

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit. 

Copyright –Douglas M. MacIlroy

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The holiday season is upon us and I find myself to be busier than a one-armed paper hanger. Between the mandatory gifting, my husband’s birthday the 15th, book signings/art shows, and working on a new novel that’s taking up quite a bit of head-space, I’ve taken the liberty to craft this dreadful run-on sentence and also to post some reruns this month. The photo and story are from December 14, 2012 Some may remember it. For those of you who wrote a story for this prompt, feel free to post a rerun. The photographer of this prompt has been MIA for a while, but I assure you, our disc flinger is alive, well, and happy. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

UNHOLY BONDS

            Somewhere between “I do” and diapers Gavin’s winsome bride turned into a nattering, self-centered shrew. Everything he said or did she took as either an affront or lack of caring.

            If he brought her flowers she accused him of seeing another woman. If he made overtures she accused him of treating her like a sex object.

            Eventually he gave up trying to fix their relationship and escaped to his garage sanctuary. 

            One afternoon Lois stood over him, packed suitcase and their three-year-old son in tow. “I’m leaving.”

            “Pick up a quart of milk.”

            “For good.”

            He smiled. Peace at last!    

7 December 2018

Published December 5, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit. 

As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn M. Miller

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

JOURNEY TO THE FRONT OF THE ROOM

“Tell me ‘bout when you was a boy, Daddy.”

            Henry hugged little Hattie, the baby of his thirteen children.  “Last time I got sold I mighta been nine, maybe ten.”

            “Play your banjo, Daddy.”  Her huge eyes shone. “Please.”

            “Only if’n you sings along.”

***

            After performing in carnivals and minstrel shows, Hattie McDaniel set her sights on Hollywood.

            In the 1940’s and 50’s the NAACP criticized the Oscar winning actress for her servile screen roles.  She defied her accusers saying, “Until you offer a better alternative, I’d rather portray a maid for $700 a week than be one for seven.”

 

30 November 2018

Published November 28, 2018 by rochellewisoff


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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Nick Allen

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

HEARTLESS

Buddy woke up one morning, struggling to breathe. He sat up, but the intense pain in his stomach doubled him over. “Must be something I ate.”

            After two weeks in the hospital, he shook the doctor’s hand. “Thanks, Doc. For a while I feared I was going to that yellow brick road in the sky.”

            The doctor handed him a prescription. “Take it easy—no more aluminum makeup.”

            “No problem—lost my job.”

            Later Buddy Ebsen called Ray Bolger. “Hey, you old scarecrow. I should never have traded roles with you. Tell Mr. Haley to keep his oil can handy.”

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For a little more info CLICK

23 November 2018

Published November 21, 2018 by rochellewisoff

 

Fun times with Russell Gayer at Ozarks Writers League Conference. November 17, 2018 (Not the prompt 😉 )

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit. 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson (Many thanks for the gracious loan of your photo. 😉

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Genre: Historical Fiction based on an actual survivor’s account.

Word Count: 100

PERSPECTIVES

Holding her granddaughter’s hand, Marta shut her eyes. “Doesn’t the water make a beautiful sound?”

            Barely six, Segol fidgeted beside her. “It’s just water, Savta.”

            “No. It sings the song of eternity.” Opening her eyes, Marta pointed to Segol’s new dress. “Your ema tells me you couldn’t decide between this blue one or the green one. She said you cried and cried.”

            Segol hung her head and muttered. “Yes.”

            “Such a choice. When I was six, I had to make a choice, too. Should I go with my mother to Auschwitz or flee to the convent? I cried and cried.”

***

Happy Thanksgiving this week to my American friends. I thought of reposting this story I shared 3 years ago. It’s a different perspective re Thanksgiving. The story is called “Keshagesh” which is a Cree word for “Greedy Guts.” Since many of you read and commented on it then, I’m just posting the link for the curious. https://rochellewisoff.com/2015/11/25/27-november-2015/

 

 

 

16 November 2018

Published November 14, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit. 

As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Historical Fiction circa 1955

Word Count: 100

DEATH OF A NATION

Catherine Sunrise and her friend Douglas gathered stones called Apache tears to honor Old Mrs. Coonie’s passing.

            Catherine waded into the stream to search. The ripples sparkled in the afternoon light. “Grandfather says she spoke fluent English, but I never heard her utter a word, did you?”            

            “Nope.” Douglas picked up a shiny stone. “She fought alongside Geronimo but ratted him out to the Cavalry. They rewarded her with 27 years in prison.’”

            “Maybe that’s why she clung to Apache ways when she came home.” Catherine raised her hands. “Farewell, Dahteste, Grandmother Warrior. Soar on the spirit of the wind.”   

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9 November 2018

Published November 7, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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Please be considerate of 70 or more participants and keep your story to 100 words. Thank you. 

The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit. 

PHOTO PROMPT © J.S. Brand

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Genre: Hysterical Faction

Word Count: 100

ILLEGITIMI NON CARBORUNDUM*

At the beginning of my writing career, one of my mentors warned me. “The greatest thing an author can develop, besides a good story, is a thick skin.”

            The reviews of my novels on Amazon have been mostly favorable—until yesterday.  

            “Amateurish,” the reviewer spewed. “Clunky. No story arc. The characters are caricatures.”

            Paralyzed by the scathing words, I doubted everything I ever wrote.

            “Pffft,” said my friend. “Every author’s received bad reviews and haters are gonna hate. You can’t take it personally.”

            This morning I found two 5-Star reviews. Did my writing change? Guess I won’t quit just yet.

 

*Don’t let the bastards grind you down. 

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