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When I was a small child, we all went to the same synagogue. Passover seders and bar mitzvah receptions were epic events.
I remember how excited I was to be the flower girl at my cousin Marshall’s wedding. So nervous, walking down the aisle, I forgot to throw the petals.
We grew up, married and went our separate ways. My parents, aunts, uncles, and most of my cousins succumbed to the inevitable.
Time has scattered the rest of us to the wind. Fewer invitations, cards, or even texts are sent. Recently I learned of Marshall’s passing—in a Facebook post.
Mishpocha is Yiddish for family. L’chaim! To Life!
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.
Please, be a pal, and identify yourself in your comments. I kind of like to know to whom I’m replying to. Thank you. 😀
Genre: Hysterical Faction Word Count: 100
HONEYMOON PHASE
I gave my parents a tour of the apartment and said, “Only $85.00 a month.” Mom glared through tears at the black and red kitchen cabinets. “It’s a dump. You’re only eighteen. Please reconsider this.”
After our wedding, my husband and I moved into our first home—a four-room apartment in the attic of a turn-of-the-twentieth-century two-story brick house. The paper-thin walls allowed us to hear every word spoken by our pothead next door neighbors—usually uttered after midnight.
I could be a romantic and say that to us it seemed like a palace. Nah. It really was a dump.
This is the only picture we have that was taken inside the apartment. (December 1971) Sadly you can’t experience the end tables made of old barrels (speakers inside them) with cast-off marble tops. Between those was the green naugahide couch. Across from them was the portable black and white TV on rough board shelves propped up on cinder blocks.
Once satisfied that I wasn’t in a family way, our parents gave us six months….53 years ago. 😀
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.
Charles was a glassblower at the amusement park called Worlds of Fun where I spent a summer as a caricature artist. I loved to watch him create his glass menagerie.
Years later I visited his shop in a local mall.
“Such beautiful work,” I said. “You’ve only gotten better.”
“Are you still drawing?” he asked.
“Of course.” Then, I saw a figure on a shelf—a dancer. “I’ve sketched her many times! I must have her.”
Instead of selling me that one, he crafted another on the spot—just for me.
Her fluid choreography will forever grace my whatnot shelf.
I met Kathleen M. Rodgers at an Ozarks Writers League conference in November of 2015. (Wow, that was a fast nine years!) She was the speaker that weekend. We both felt the instant connection, not only in writing, but in the fact that both of us have survived ED, ie, eating disorder. And both of us are military wives. Her husband was a US Air Force Pilot and mine served twenty-eight years in the US Navy.
and HERE to check out her writing. You won’t be disappointed. 😉
At the time Kathleen and I met, LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE was a short story in my anthology THIS, THAT AND, SOMETIMES, THE OTHER.
I knew at some point I needed to expand that short story into something longer, like a novel. I started and stopped more than once. Revisiting the past can be painful. One agent who represented LDWA for a season said she could sell it if it were a memoir. This just wasn’t an option for me.
Meanwhile, Kathleen has been in my court, cheering me on. The agent released me from my contract after a year. I set the manuscript aside for a yet another year, still feeling that this story had a purpose. Then two years ago, Lia Wu, owner of Ozark Hollow Press offered me a contract. The timing was right.
Happily, with help from OHP’s brilliant editing team, LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE was released and launched in June.
Kathleen called the morning of the launch to wish me well and let me know how proud she is of me. 😀
Yesterday, she posted reviews in all those familiar places: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and GoodReads. And the place that makes me smile the most
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.
My father was a cook by trade and a baker by passion.
There was nothing he loved more than cooking for a crowd or creating delicious desserts. Pineapple cheese pecan pie was his signature dish. It’s my decided opinion that the Philadelphia cream cheese company owes him for the publicity. In fact, as I was giving birth to my third son, Dear Old Dad was outside the door feeding the nurses cherry-cream-cheese muffins.
At his funeral a year later, the young rabbi delivered a beautiful eulogy.
I couldn’t help but think, “If Dad were here, he’d bake her a pie.”
My dad is the reason I became a cake decorator. We took a class together. I surprised him with this cake on his 65th birthday. 😀
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.
Happy May, Everyone! It seems whatever issues WP has had with sign ins and commentors continues. I had a few comments from Annonymous last week. I noticed also that I’m not the only one. A few times I’ve had to sign back in to leave a comment. It is rather irritating. If you could leave your name it would be helpful. Thank you.
Genre: Coming of Age Word Count: 100
MUZAK TO MY EARS
In my teens I was a raving Beatles fan. Oh, the memories each of their songs evokes from different stages of my adolescence.
I still have my collection of vinyl 45 rpm records. Not familiar? Look them up. No time to elaborate in one hundred words.
One afternoon my mother came into my room as I was rocking to “I am the Walrus.” With a disgusted look she said, “You only tell yourself you like that dreck.”
Seriously I still love the crazy cacophony.
Imagine my surprise the other day when I heard it as background music in the supermarket.
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Last Dance With Annie, by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, will be available June 4th in paperback, hardcover, and ebook. Preorder on Amazon, Nook, Kobo, and more!
“Much flows through the pages of “Last Dance” and all of it is worth reading. In this well-written, poignant story, Wisoff-Fields offers the reader a front row seat into less-spoken-of and rarely seen realities of lives weighted by years of expectation, exploitation, secrecy, trauma, and turmoil; but also to the powers of love, truth, and creativity to offer healing and feed hope. As Elise and those around her lose, then seek to find their step, we weep with, cheer for, and dance with them. Hurrah, Rochelle, for a story well told!”
Na’ama Yehuda, MSC SLP (Author: Communicating Trauma, Emilia, Outlawed Hope, Apples in Applath)
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.
Who chose this prompt anyway? Oh, yeah. I have only myself to blame. Not only did I post this photo, I snapped it as well. It’s one of those cute little shops in the Cotton Exchange in Wilmington, North Carolina.
One would think, given the place’s rich history, I could find something to write about.
Lemme see. I could write about the Chinese Laundry that resided there in the early 1900s. Or what about the barber shop that was destroyed in a fire? Nope. Google’s leading me nowhere and my mind’s stuck in neutral.
Sorry, y’all. Nothing to read here.
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WE HAVE A BOOK!
LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE is still set for release June 4th. But this past weekend I received two hardback author copies of the book at our Ozarks Writers League conference. My publisher had a few advance copies for sale as well. 😀 The first autographed copy goes to my husband. 😉
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.
“It’s time to clean this cluttered basement.” Stacks of boxes from our last move wait on shelves to be gone through—later.
Opening a cardboard box, I sneeze at the musty odor. I pick up a tattered paperback and thumb through its yellowed pages.
Bunnicula.
How my now-grown son and I laughed at the antics of the family pets. I lose myself in the adventures of the dog, cat and, of course, the titular vegetable-sucking vampire rabbit.
“Look at the time.” I return the novel to the box. “I’ll get back to cleaning—later.”
Note: Bunnicula was a fun read. And my story is true. I really could use some organizational help here. 😉
And on the subject of books:
My book LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE is available for ebook preorder on the following sights: HERE, HERE and HERE! Release Date is June 4! If you’re not an ebook fan, paperback and hard back copies will be available on and after that date. 😀
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.
This week in the USA we celebrate the holiday known as Thanksgiving, which is usually characterized by watching parades, football and eating oneself into a coma. On that note, I want you all to know how thankful I am for you who participate in Friday Fictioneers. Some of you were part of the challenge before I joined. Some of you are newbies and others fall somewhere in between. A hearty THANK YOU, MUCHAS GRACIAS, DANKE SCHÖN, MERCI, MARAMING SALAMAT, TODAH RABBAH to all of you.
Genre: Anecdotal Fiction Word Count: 100
DAUGHTER OF VOICE
For two years I saved to travel to the Holy Land where I dreamt of walking in the footsteps of the great Bible prophets.
After five days of touring ancient ruins and being dragged into schlock shops, I’d had no transcendent revelations and didn’t feel any closer to heaven.
On the sixth day I encountered the violinist. No crowds gathered around her, yet she performed with captivating passion that would’ve humbled Paganini. I dropped several coins into her open case. And there…
…in Jerusalem’s Cardo, amid patrons and peddlers, I came face to face with the unpretentious countenance of God.
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple 