WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT – WAYWARD

Published May 2, 2021 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s Comment Section.

FUTURE AUTHOR

Mrs. Ervine’s glaring stare bores through me. “What is the capital of Texas?”

My nine-year-old heart crashes against my ribcage. “T?”

“Not funny.” The teacher leans into my face. “If you’d been paying attention, you’d know it’s Austin. How many times do I have to tell…?

I knew it would one day catch up with me. Daydreaming. Wayward thoughts cavorting in space, ever colliding…

“Miss Wisoff, what did I just say?”

“Could you repeat it, Mrs. Ervine?”

15 April 2021

Published April 14, 2021 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 © Anne Higa

CLICK ON THE FROG TO JOIN THE FUN

AGENT 3844

Heart pounding, Virginia Hall caught her breath and massaged her aching hip. “That was a close call. Cuthbert, you’re always causing trouble.”

“You’ve named your wooden leg?” Virginia’s fellow agent, Armand, found a table in a darkened tavern. “Here. Rest fast.”

She forced a smile. “I was sure the Gestapo recognized me from the poster.”

“The artist certainly captured your likeness. But your disguise is good.”

“Perhaps not good enough.”

The tavern keeper brought two glasses of wine.

“It is my honor to serve with you.” Armand raised his glass. “To the lady who limps. Most dangerous of Allied spies.”

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800px-Les_Marguerites_Fleuriront_ce_Soir_-_Flickr_-_The_Central_Intelligence_Agency

5 February 2021

Published February 3, 2021 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 © Trish Nankivell

Click Gollum to Join the fun. (He’s neither blue nor a frog 😉 )

ONE FURTHER WORD! PLEASE!!!

We’ll never forget 2020, the Pandammit and the hoarding of such items as cleaning supplies and toilet paper. Many are the stories written on the subject. So…I DARE YOU! I DOUBLE-DOG DARE YOU TO NOT write a story that has to do with lockdown, quarantine or the big C-19. You won’t be chastised or kicked to the kerb if you do, but…

Without further adieu, here’s my story.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

TYPECAST

Riccardo DiGuglielmo couldn’t see himself frittering away his life as a clerk. He decided to follow in his parents’ footsteps in show business.

Studying the fifteen-year-old, the Hamilton, Ontario radio director smiled. “You have a good voice for radio, son. Your name?”

“Um…” Riccardo hesitated. He didn’t want to be typecast as an Italian. “Dick Wilson.”

Years later, his character, Mr. Whipple, a store clerk who chastised anyone who dared to squeeze the Charmin, became an American household name.

The actor laughed, “I’ve done thirty-eight pictures and nobody remembers any of them, but they all remember me selling toilet paper.”

For those who never saw one of these 500 adverts, here’s one of the early ones that catapulted Dick Wilson to commercial success.

22 January 2021

Published January 20, 2021 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 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Tap the frog to join the fun!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

STEPPIN’ STONES

Janelle thumbed through Variety. “NBC’s airing a new program called ‘Circus Boy.’” She ruffled her ten-year-old son’s blond hair. “Would you like to audition?”

“Nah.” Micky wrinkled his nose. “I got a baseball game.”

“You know what Dad says. ‘You have to follow the fish; the fish won’t follow you.’”

Micky, who enjoyed watching his father act on television, thought for a moment. “Okay. I’ll go.”

Two years later, Micky “Braddock” aka Corky learned about fleeting fame when “Circus Boy” ended.

Opportunity knocked again via NBC when 20-year-old Micky Dolenz snagged the role of the “Pre-Fab-Four’s” drummer in “The Monkees.”

peter-tork-micky-dolenz-davy-jones-michael-nesmith

George and Janelle Dolenz with newborn Micky

George and Janelle Dolenz

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In case you never caught the 1956-58 show (I didn’t), meet Micky Braddock

And one of my favorite Monkees songs with Micky singing lead.

14 January 2021

Published January 13, 2021 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 © Dale Rogerson

CLICK THE FROG TO PLAY ALONG

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

LISTEN TO THE BAND

“I’ve had enough of this scene,” said Stephen Stills as he sat at a coffee house in Greenwich Village. “I’m off to LA.”

Peter picked out a tune on his guitar. “Ya think you’ll make more bread out there?”

“Dunno. But it’s warmer.”

_____

As the two basked in California sunshine, Stephen handed Peter a newspaper. “I’m auditioning. Why don’t you?”

Peter read the ad. “I’m a musician. Haven’t acted since the PTA play in grade school.”

“It says ‘Musicians-Singers.’”

“Okay. What’ve I got to lose?”

Years later, Peter Tork told an interviewer. “I’ll always have the Monkees on my back.”

Stephen Stills and Peter Tork

***

RIP Peter

February 13,1942- February 21, 2019

8 January 2021

Published January 6, 2021 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 @ Jan Wayne Fields

JUST FOR FUN CLICK THE FROG

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

HEY! HEY! MERCY, WOMAN!

“I got a boy to raise. I can’t afford to lose this job.” Bette ripped the document from the IBM electric. The bank called it progress, she called it futile. “Doggone unerasable ink. Someone should invent…hmm.”

_____

“Is that paint in the blender?” asked 12-year-old Michael.

Bette took a bottle of the white stuff to work with a small paintbrush. Before she knew it, her coworkers clamored for a bottle. She called her lucrative invention “Mistake-Out.”

______

“My mom was a dynamo. She built the Liquid Paper Corporation from nothing.” Monkee Michael Nesmith drawled. “All I did was sing and write songs.”

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(Photo by Silver Screen Collection/Getty Images)

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and just for fun…one of the songs Mike Nesmith wrote

25 December 2020

Published December 23, 2020 by rochellewisoff

Whatever holiday you celebrate or don’t at this time of year I wish you a season of peace and joy.

Shalom, Rochelle

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 © Trish Nankivell

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

A DAY FOR LOVING

“Gonna to be the best Christmas ever.” Mildred wrapped the last of the children’s presents. “I was beginning to fear hope was gone.”

She would never forget that night nine years ago. Beside Richard, she woke to a blinding flashlight and a gruff voice. “Whatcha think you’re doin’?”

She pointed to the District of Columbia marriage license on the wall. “I’m his wife.”

“Not here you ain’t.” The Caroline County sheriff snarled. “Here it’s illegal for white to marry colored.”

“Thanks to the U.S. Supreme Court,” Richard Loving circled his arms around Mildred and kissed her, “I can love my wife.”

*

13 November 2020

Published November 11, 2020 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.

CLICK FOR FUN!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BY DESIGN

“The final Yuletide of the 19^th century is upon us. What will the 20^th hold? Perhaps we women will be allowed to vote.” Maud settled back against her pillows. “We’ll make it happen.” Light snow fell past her window. Nearby carolers sang, “Silent Night.”

Her latest illustration sat unfinished on her easel.

“Salutations, my little masterpiece.” She studied the infant in her arms. “I daresay those dark blue eyes shall turn brown. What a dear subject you’ll make, my Humphrey baby.”

“Humphrey baby indeed. Come to Papa, my son.” Maud’s husband Belmont lifted the child. “Merry Christmas, Humphrey Deforest Bogart!

Click to know more about Maud

Maud Humphrey

Maud and Baby Humphrey

Humphrey Bogart.

16 October 2020

Published October 14, 2020 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.

Click the pink froggie to join the fun.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count:100

PINK DREAMS ON EAGLE’S WINGS

Back aching, Mary boxed up a vacuum sweeper. After a lucrative evening she was weary and ready to go home.

She coaxed a smile. “You’re a lovely hostess, Mrs. Spoonemore.”

“Thank you for demonstrating Stanley products, Mrs. Rogers.” Ova handed her a jar with a penciled label. “A token of my appreciation.”

Mary opened it and sniffed. “What’s this?”

“My daddy’s hide-tanning formula. Keeps skin smooth and young-looking.”

Years later, tired of being passed over for promotions, Mary Kay bought the formula from Ova’s family for $500 and struck out on her own. The rest is pink history.

***

18 September 2020

Published September 16, 2020 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.

Click to Join!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BIG RASCALS

“I was a baby when Mr. Roach hired me,” says George McFarland. “They still call me Spanky.”

Ernie grins. “I was one of the first back in the days before talkies. Sunshine Sammy, that was me.”

“I was Butch. The bully in the gang.” Tommy Bond adds with a twinkle in his eye, “Guess I had the scowl for it.”

Matthew Beard strokes his bald head, looking very much like little Stymie. “We was just kids. We went to school and played together. Black or white didn’t matter. Hal Roach loved kids.”

“Great times,” says Ernie. “I’d do it again.”

***

Tommy “Butch” Bond

Matthew “Stymie” Beard

Hal Roach

Ernest “Sunshine Sammy” Morrison

*Some may remember the “Our Gang Comedy” or, as it later became known in syndication “The Little Rascals.” Some may not. For a bit of a lengthy history CLICK HERE.