Biographical Fiction

All posts in the Biographical Fiction category

7 October 2016

Published October 5, 2016 by rochellewisoff


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South KC Sky BannerThe 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. 



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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100


            “Greetings to all you boneheads in the Pacific, this is your number one enemy, your favorite playmate, Orphan Ann, with some good jive.”

            Trembling, Iva put down her script and set the needle on the record. What choice did she have? She had to eat.

            Stranded in Tokyo after a short trip to visit her aunt, she refused to renounce her US citizenship. Japanese customs repulsed her. She longed for hamburgers and Coca-Cola in her comfortable California home.  


            Thirty-two years, six of them in prison for treason, later, President Gerald Ford pardoned Iva Toguri D’aquino, also known as Tokyo Rose.






21 August 2015

Published August 19, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Another Hightway

Blue Ceiling FF

FF copyright banner finalThe next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. In a hundred words or less, what story does it tell?



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Genre Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100


            “Papa, tell me about your crazy friend Joseph Kyselak.”

            “Not crazy, eccentric, Ilsa.” I squeeze my daughter’s hand as we walk down the street. “You’ve heard this story a hundred times.”

            “Tell me a hundred and one.”            

            “Very well. Joseph bet me that within three years he would be famous all over Austria.”

            “He is, isn’t he?”  

            I miss his easy laugh, sense of humor, and adventurous spirit. Cholera took him last year, but not before he won the wager. If you visit Austria you’ll see his name everywhere.  

            Ilsa traces the letters Joseph engraved on a nearby wall. “Kyselak”





Father of Graffiti

17 July 2015

Published July 15, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Snorkeling in St. Thomas

Undersea St. Thomas 4 Meme

FF copyright banner finalThe next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. What do you see and where do you see it? Think Thoreau.

PHOTO PROMPT- © Sandra Crook

PHOTO PROMPT- © Sandra Crook

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100


            “Patrick, spit that paper out.”

            “But, I want to be a hero like you, Maman.”

            “Where do you get such ideas?” 

            “I heard Papa say you’re a hero because you ate paper. Is that true?”


            Nine years ago while riding her bicycle on the outskirts of Paris on a Resistance mission, Virginia d’Albert-Lake had been stopped and taken to a nearby police station.      

            “Where’s the list?” demanded the expressionless uniform.

            “What list?”

            “You ate it, didn’t you?”

            Her scalp tingled and her gorge rose as she fought to keep down a swallowed lump of paper.        


            “Yes, it’s true.”        


Women in the French Resistance

Women in the French Resistance


There’s more to the story:

An American Heroine

19 June 2015

Published June 17, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Flowers from the Hill Thoreau

Undersea St. Thomas 4 Meme

FF copyright banner final

 The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. Where does it take you? Tell me in a hundred words or less. 

It seems a small thing to ask, but when posting your story, even if you’re using more than one prompt, please post the prompt as well for that sense of connection. 

PHOTO PROMPT - © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 99


            Ornate chandeliers bathed Vienna’s Burgtheater stage with light. A young actor took a final bow and his father cheered, “Bravo!”

            Afterwards in his dressing room Johann pleaded, “Bitte, Papa, come with me to America.”

            “Soon, Johann.”  Papa tied a scarf around Johann’s neck. “Soon.”


            Had Papa perished in Mauthausen-Gusen, Buchenwald or Auschwitz?

            Johann fingered the remains of the threadbare scarf in his pocket. What would Papa make of him now; an orphaned Jew in a Wehrmacht uniform standing in front of television cameras repeating the catchphrase he had heard for twenty years of searching, “I see nothing! Nothing!”






10 October 2014

Published October 8, 2014 by rochellewisoff

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Below is the photo prompt for the week. What do you see? What do you hear? Tell me in one hundred words or less, then click the blue froggy fella and link your story. My story follows the linkz and prompt. I appreciate honest comments and constructive criticism. 

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100


            The boy stared out the window beside his bed and listened to his Alyn Ainsworth record. He tapped his fingers on the night stand in time to the music.

            Sentenced to the ‘greenhouse,’ a children’s sanitarium, he’d celebrated his fourteenth birthday with tea, boredom and Streptomycin. Yet, after a year of incarceration, the doctors still considered Ritchie too ill to go home.  

            “Join our band,” said a nurse. “Bring your new banjo.”

            “I’d rather play drums.”

            Ten years later Ritchie smiled over his drum set at a sea of screaming teenagers as Ed Sullivan cried, “Ladies and gentleman, the Beatles!”






26 September 2014

Published September 24, 2014 by rochellewisoff

Flowers from the Hill Thoreau

Ellehcor Banner FF

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The next photo you see is the PROMPT. Study it. What does it say to you? Tell me in a hundred words or less. 

 My story follows the prompt and the link. Click on little blue froggy fella and add your link. If reading and commenting on every story is daunting, try reading the five prior to yours and the five following. 😉

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 98


             Against the cold wooden floor, labor pains wracked Emily’s back. One after another they came, each harder than the last. She closed her eyes to shut out onlookers’ stares but couldn’t block out their voices.

            “Helluva place to have a kid.”

            “Pour me another, Fayette.”

           “Whaddya think, Gramps? Boy or girl?”

           “Quarter says ‘boy.’” 

            “Pay them no mind, Emily,” said Mama. “Push!”

             Over the din of cheers and clinking glasses William Griffith Wilson made his howling presence known.

            “Born behind Grandpa’s bar,” whispered Emily as she cuddled her newborn. “Don’t suppose it’s some kind of omen, do you?”


12 September 2014

Published September 10, 2014 by rochellewisoff

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Below is the PHOTO PROMPT. Take time to think and reflect. How does it make you feel? What do you see? 

Copyright - Janet Webb

Copyright – Janet Webb

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Genre: Smoke and Mirrors

Word count: 100


            “Things were supposed to be better in America,” said Rabbi Weiss. “’Too old fashioned’ the congregation I built says, and just like that, I’m a pauper with nine mouths to feed.”

            “It’s because you don’t speak English, Papa.” Ehrich looked up from his book.

            “What’s this you’re reading?”

            “The Book of the Sacred Magic.

            “Better you should study the Torah.”

            “That didn’t do you much good, did it?”

            “Impudence! To your room!”

            Half an hour later Ehrich strolled into the parlor smiling triumphantly.

            “How?” Rabbi Weiss gasped. “I locked you in.”  

            “My brain is the key that sets me free.”     




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