24 November 2017

Published November 22, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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

Please be respectful of your fellow writer/readers and keep your story to 100 words. Thank you.

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Wrote a longer piece? Don’t think you can cut it back? The following excerpt from my second novel FROM SILT AND ASHES turned flash fiction was originally 308 words long. Obviously that would go way over the word limit. So, first I had to decide what I want to say in 100 words. Once I decided, I tweaked some of the sentences to fit and lost four other characters in the chapter. 😉 Naturally it’s my hope that this will whet your appetite to read the longer version, ie the book and, perhaps the trilogy. I thank you. Havah thanks you. 😀

Genre: Historical Fiction (circa 1905)

Word Count: 100

A GIRL’S BEST FRIEND

A pile of torn paper remained on the floor where Rachel had been playing. Havah’s anxiety mounted. She only turned her head for a moment.

What if her blind toddler meandered out into the path of an oncoming automobile?

Kreplakh cocked her head, barked and scampered around Havah’s feet.

“You fell down on the job, you stupid mutt. Rachel! Rachel!”

Kreplakh ran to the closet and scratched at the door.

“You want in there?” Havah yanked it open and sank to her weakened knees.

There in the laundry basket, amid petticoats and linens, thumb in mouth, slept little lost Rachel.

Rachel Esther Gitterman

Kreplakh, self appointed service dog

Mrs. Havah Gitterman

Book II of Havah’s Trilogy

A Lovely Interview

Published November 14, 2017 by rochellewisoff

I will make this blog short and, hopefully, sweet.

Last week I had the unexpected pleasure of interviewing with Dr. Paul Reeves on Impact USA out of Detroit. Click on his name under the photo to learn more.

I say unexpected because it all came about quickly and seemingly out of nowhere.

Dr. Paul Reeves

I was chatting in a Facebook private message with friend Caroline Giammanco , author of “The Boonie Hat Bandit” and “Guilty Hearts” who asked if I would be interested in doing an interview. If so she could get me in touch with Deborah Ratliff who gathers info for Dr. Paul. (Are you with me?) I emailed my particulars to Deborah and within hours I received an email from Dr. Paul. I’ll stop there since my head’s spinning just writing it.

Here I am with Caroline in Chicago May before last.

Without further adieu, here’s the interview if you have 30 minutes to spare. For those of you in Friday Fictioneers, you’ll note that the subject came up more than once. Perhaps we’ll see Dr. Paul in our midst as a Fictioneer in the not too distant future.

10 November 2017

Published November 8, 2017 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 © Marie Gail Stratford

Please be respectful to your readers and keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you.

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

FOR THE DEAD AND THE LIVING, WE MUST BEAR WITNESS *

I remember it like it was yesterday—November 9, 1963 in Chicago, my father took me downtown to celebrate my 10^th birthday.

His German accent sounded like music. “Vhere shall ve go, schatzi?”

“The Art Institute.”

I skipped along the sidewalk, holding his hand. He stopped and went to his knees in front of a synagogue. Slipping off his hat, he covered his face. The sun limned his blond waves.

“What’s wrong, Vati?”

“Meine Schande. Those magnificent windows—shattered! 25 years ago today. Schweinehund! Jewish businesses—destroyed! What did I do? Die Nill! I—I stood by and did nothing.”

*Quote from Elie Wiesel

79 years ago this week.

3 November 2017

Published November 1, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Ann Hall

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Please be considerate and keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you.

Once more another excerpt from my trilogy as I prepare the coffee table companion book, A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY. Designed for those who like art and very short stories. 😉 This is an excerpt from the third in the series, AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN. A little background for those unfamiliar. The menorah in the story is a ‘character’ of sorts. Crafted by Yussel’s father, it has survived the pogroms and the long journey to America.

Genre: Historical Fiction circa 1907

Word Count: 100

FAMILY HEIRLOOM

Arel scowled. “Lev, where’ve you been?”

“The library, I—”

“You missed supper.”

Havah grasped Arel’s arm and whispered, “Please let him explain.”

“My house. My rules.” Arel slapped Lev, knocking Yussel’s menorah off the table.

The ground listed beneath Havah’s feet.

Lev gasped.

Yussel cried out, dropped to his knees and searched with trembling hands until he found the broken pieces. He hugged them to his chest. Tears quivered in his sightless eyes.

“It’s only one branch, Papa.” Havah knelt beside him. “Surely it can be fixed.”

“Once a limb is severed can the tree be made whole again?”

Arel Gitterman

Coming soon!

Mrs. Havah Gitterman

October’s End

Published October 31, 2017 by rochellewisoff

The weekend, beginning with Thursday, the 26th was busy one. It began with an interview with Jim Christina and Russ Avison on The Writers Block. Some will remember that I had the joy of going out to California to interview in the studio with them last November. The opportunity just didn’t present itself this year so we muddle through via telephone. Nonetheless, I had a great time.

Here is the link with Jim’s generous intro: 😀

Russ and I had a great conversation with author and artist Rochelle Wisoff Fields last evening. An informed writer and unique historian of early 1900’s Russia and the US. Giver her books a read! Here is the podcast address: http://latalkradio.com/content/writer-102617%20#audio_play

It’s an hour long and 40 minutes of it is Yours Truly. I hope you’ll take the time to listen.

Russ Avison

Jim Christina

Finding Cure Through Literacy

Friday morning we hit the road at 5:00 AM to make the long drive to Texarkana for the 8th Annual Gathering of Authors, a charity event and book signing. The festivities were kicked off with benefit banquet. All proceeds were to go to St. Jude’s Hospital.

I made some new friends and valuable connections. Not to mention it was nice to just get away for a couple of days with my hubby.

Afterward went to spend the rest of the weekend with gracious hosts Tom and Frances Mosby in Dover AR. Since Jan hadn’t heard my interview and we had a long drive we listened to it. Now he knows that “big men walk in fear of me.” (Thanks, Russ.)

Frances and I have known each other since kindergarten so we can always find things to talk about. Yes, we still chatter like a couple of school girls. I’m glad that the guys get along so well, too.

Below are a few photos from the weekend for your viewing pleasure. 😉

Meeting other authors for lunch on Friday

Judy Lowe, fellow author and new friend.

Alpacas on the Mosby ranch.

Chatting with Ann Redelfs, MD and new friend.

Young award winning authors

Tammy Holder Thompson, The woman who started it all.

Frances and Tom Mosby. We forgot to take pics together so here they are at their sons recent wedding.

Meeting of the artists. With Debra Jo Johnson

As we meandered down our street toward home, our neighbor Bud who we’d asked to take in our mail, stopped us to tell us there was a serious problem. With my heart in my mouth, I followed Bud and Jan into their house. Bud’s wife, Cindi met us at the door with wine and said, “You won’t want to be our friends anymore. I washed your mail.”

Have you ever seen a stack of mail that has been trough wash, rinse and spin? Most of it was recognizable. Just mush around the edges. Once we ascertained that there was nothing of any consequence, we toasted our friendship with laughter and wine.

Thank you, Bud and Cindi Turner for being such good friends!

27 October 2017

Published October 25, 2017 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 © Roger Bultot

Please be considerate and keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you.

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

FINAL CURTAIN CALL

“Sunrise, Sunset…” Will sang as he combed his thinning white hair, grinning at his reflection. “One season following…”

A sudden wave of exhaustion and chest pain whelmed him. Breathless, he sank into a chair, closing his eyes.

“Willie, you’ll be late for Hebrew school.”

“Let me rest a moment, Mama.” He opened his eyes and glanced at his watch. “Oy! I will be late for the show.” He kissed her faded photograph. “See you soon.”

Later costar Carol Spinney, wearing his Big Bird feet, wrapped his arm around Will. “I love you, Mr. Looper.”

Will returned the hug. “Hooper! Hooper!”

Carol “Big Bird” Spinney and Will Lee

MORE INFO ON WILL LEE

RIGHTEOUS AMONG NATIONS

Published October 21, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman ventures to the Balkans to spend some time in Bulgaria. Feel free to use the prompt to inspire you in any way you see fit, be it historical fiction, poetry, a personal narrative, fantasy or whatever you like. The only requirement is to keep your post to 150 words or less as a gesture of respect for your readers.

Today, thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson, I’ve learned another bit of WWII Jewish history I didn’t know.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

RIGHTEOUS AMONG NATIONS

My grandmother and I strolled beside the spring, arm in arm. We’d had a picnic, just the two of us, to celebrate her 80^th birthday and my 13^th.

“I wish my Papa could’ve been here to enjoy your Bar Mitzvah. He was a rabbi, you know.”

“I know, Nana.”

“So I’ve told you.”

With her intense dark eyes she could take you captive until she decided to let you go. I didn’t mind.

Tears trickled down her weathered cheeks. “They closed the Jewish schools. We wore yellow stars. March 9, 1943, my 13th^th birthday. They rounded us up like cattle. We waited to be deported. It was inevitable. I would never see my beloved papa again. He held me and wept like a child. Then the miracle happened—”

“At the last minute Dimitar Peshev, the Vice President of the Bulgarian Parliament, got the order reversed.”

“So I’ve told you.”

From Wikipedia, After the war, the Communists brought forth charges on the Old Bulgarian Parliament for collaboration with the Germans. Peshev was tried for being both an anti-Semite and anti-Communist and was even accused of having been bribed by the Jews in exchange for halting the deportation.^[2] However, his Jewish friends from the Kyustendil delegation, led by Joseph Nissim Yasharoff, testified on his behalf and saved him from a death sentence. He was sentenced to 15 years of imprisonment but was released after one year.

20 October 2017

Published October 18, 2017 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.

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This is a scene from AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN, the third in my Havah Cohen Gitterman trilogy. By the third book, the characters have survived the hardships of Eastern European persecution. Many of them are dealing with what we know today as PTSD. This scene takes place in 1907 when little was known, much less addressed.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

AMNESIA

“All these years the only thing I remembered was her suicide. I’ve hated her for it,” Shayndel shuddered. “How could I forget why?”

“You were only five,” whispered Fruma Ya’el. “It’s understandable—”

Shayndel buried her head in her hands. “‘Jew bitch,’ they called her. ‘Get help!’ she begged me. But I couldn’t move. I—I watched as they—”

Protracted memories riddled Shayndel. “Bayla never spoke again—until the morning she…she climbed the tree in the yard to the highest branch. Naked. Great with child. She spread her arms, smiled at me and said,” Shayndel choked, “‘Goodbye, little sister.’”

Bayla Gitterman, age 14- Orignal Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Fruma Ya'el in Kansas City - Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Shayndel Gitterman Abromovich - Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Shayndel in Kansas City - Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff

Fruma Ya'el -Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

6 October 2017

Published October 4, 2017 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.

This lovely photo shows the moon rising over the trees as viewed from a ferry boat. What story does it tell you? Can you share it in 100 words or less?

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

FULL MOON FEVER

“The year I turned 10,” he lay back in his hospital bed, staring at his bandaged hand, “my uncle invited me to the movie set. I’ll never forget it. There he was. The King. At that moment I knew what I wanted to be.”

“A rock star with a nasty temper?” The nurse adjusted his IV. “The morphine should kick in soon.”

His fingers throbbed. “The doc says I broke five bones and I might never play guitar again.”

The nurse’s eyes brimmed. “I’m truly sorry, Mr. Petty.”

“Don’t be.” He murmured as he drifted off. “I won’t back down.”

*

The story in his own words:

NO MORE DANCES WITH MARY JANE

R.I.P. TOM

29 September 2017

Published September 27, 2017 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.

With its battered tin roof it looks like an old warehouse that has been abandoned. The windows aren’t broken and the concrete walls look rough. What story does this old shell of a building with its brick chimney tell you? Can you tell the rest of us in 100 words?

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

RADIUM DIAL

“Jinny was barely growed. 1914-1934” Her lower lip quivered as she traced the dates on the headstone with a frail finger. “She earned $17.50 a week painting them glow-in-the-dark clock numbers.”

Wind gusting across St. Columbus Cemetery chilled me. “Let’s get you home, Mrs. Abbot.”

“Not yet. I want you to see.” She seethed and brandished a Geiger counter probe over her sister’s grave. “Jinny took sick. Strange. Her jaws done crumbled. Died like the other girls at her factory. The doctors made lame excuses. Damned liars is what they was.” The machine sputtered. “That sound like Diphtheria to you?”

*