Historical Fiction

All posts in the Historical Fiction category

22 April 2016

Published April 20, 2016 by rochellewisoff

Another Hightway

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The following photo is the PROMPT. Keep in mind that all photos are the property of the contributor, therefore copyrighted and require express permission to use for purposes other than Friday Fictioneers. Giving credit to whom credit is due is proper etiquette.

Best wishes go out to our friend CEAYR and hopes that he’ll be without pain very soon. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Madison Woods

PHOTO PROMPT © Madison Woods

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This month marks my fourth Friday Fictioneers Anniversary! To commemorate it I’m posting a rerun. At least the photo’s a rerun. If you already wrote a story to go with this prompt all those years ago, feel free to take a breather and re-post it. 

As I reread the story I posted four years ago this week, I decided it needed some updating. It was, after all, the third flash fiction I ever wrote. If you’d like to read the original click HERE 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

IN MEMORY OF 24682

Between barbs and twisted wire the sun had the audacity to shine.  Marushka’s stomach howled in outrage as she licked the dregs of a discarded sardine tin. She stretched her skeletal legs and longed for silk stockings to hug her once shapely calves.

She took a cracked mirror from her pocket and winced at her bald reflection. Murderer!

“I couldn’t let them hear you.” Memories of her baby gasping for breath under her palm haunted her. Employing the jagged glass, she slashed from her wrist to her tattoo. Relief flooded her as her life pooled in the grass. “Mama’s coming.”

 

15 April 2016

Published April 13, 2016 by rochellewisoff

Thoreau NZ birds

Phriday Phictioneers Phone

The following photo is the PROMPT. Keep in mind that all photos are the property of the contributor, therefore copyrighted and require express permission to use for purposes other than Friday Fictioneers. Giving credit to whom credit is due is proper etiquette.

***************************************NOTICE****************************************************************************

Dear Friday Fictioneers,

Our fellow fictioneer CEAYR asked that I extend his apologies for his lack of participation of late. While he doesn’t mean to be rude, our friend is dealing with physical issues that prevent him from being more involved.

Thank you for understanding.

Shalom,

Rochelle

*******************************************************************************************************************************

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Genre: Fact and Fiction

Word Count: 100

SOURCE OF KNOWLEDGE 

“‘…The taller officer, an imposing presence with dark skin, fascinated Havah. Although she had read about them in Professor Dietrich’s books about Africa and American history, she had never met a Negro face to face.’”

“What year does your book take place?”  

“1904.”  

“I hate to burst your bubble,” says my fellow writer with smug conviction. “I realize it’s historical fiction but I seriously doubt there would’ve been a black officer back then.”

I whip out my Kansas City history book and point to a photo of uniformed Lafayette Tillman on horseback. “Second one on the KC force. Next question.”

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KCTillman

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/11/10/character-study-lafayette-a-tillman/

 

25 March 2016

Published March 23, 2016 by rochellewisoff

The disc and the dragonfly

FIC

The following photo is the PROMPT. Keep in mind that all photos are the property of the contributor, therefore copyrighted and require express permission to use for purposes other than Friday Fictioneers. Giving credit to whom credit is due is proper etiquette. 

Please be considerate and make an effort to stay within the suggested word count. 

PHOTO PROMPT - © Ted Strutz

PHOTO PROMPT – © Ted Strutz

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Due to circumstances beyond my control this past week, including an all day car repair, dental issues and a computer crash, I am posting an excerpt from my working manuscript, As One Must, One Can. While it’s just under a hundred words, it’s not a complete story. In this stage of the book, Havah, who teaches an unheard of girl’s Hebrew class, accompanied by her nephew Lev, is going to check on two of her students who live in McClure Flats which was a Kansas City Slum populated mostly by Russian Jewish immigrants. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

(the year is 1908)

Word Count: 97

AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN – EXCERPT

            Lev and Havah passed a row of brick hovels with lean-tos serving as porches.

            Everywhere she turned she saw unkempt children whose noses leaked slimy trails to their lips. 

            A woman with pockmarked cheeks and sunken eyes sat beside a shanty, her blouse hanging open so her toddler could suckle from her shriveled breast.

            A little girl chased a small animal crying, “Kit-kat! Kit-kat!” in Yiddish.

           The creature scurried under Havah’s skirts before disappearing between the cracks of a dilapidated wall. The ground swerved beneath her when she realized it was neither cat nor dog, but a large rat. 

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Lev Resnick, Havah's nephew-Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Lev Resnick, Havah’s nephew-Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Havah Cohen Gitterman -Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Havah Cohen Gitterman -Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

McClure Flats, Kansas City, Missouri

McClure Flats, Kansas City, Missouri-Photo taken around 1910

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BN Event Poster

18 March 2016`

Published March 16, 2016 by rochellewisoff

Flowers from the Hill Thoreau

Erie Canal

The following photo is the PROMPT. Keep in mind that all photos are the property of the contributor, therefore copyrighted and require express permission to use for purposes other than Friday Fictioneers. Giving credit to whom credit is due is proper etiquette. 

Please be considerate and make an effort to stay within the suggested word count. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

WHERE HEAVEN BENDS TOWARDS YOU

                                                                                                                       ” March 1622

Tesoro Ansaldo,

My heart dies for your letters.

You used to liken me to the Jewish Queen Ester.

Do you now spurn me because I refuse to embrace your Christus? Does this make me a heretic? So be it! But never have I denied the eternal soul of man as you so accuse. I wrote only that the mind informs us and is where mortal and immortal are confined.

Thus, I confine myself to Gheto Vechio…”

 Blinded by tears, the old monk set Sarra Copia’s letter ablaze in the candle flame. “Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”

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Copia-Sulam-web

*CLICK HERE*

or

*HERE*

 

Character Study – Nocturne in C-Sharp Minor

Published March 6, 2016 by rochellewisoff

         

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Felds

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Felds

   “Now, where was I? Your education…Frederic Chopin.” Ulrich cleared his throat and poised his hands over the keys. “He was one of the world’s greatest composers. His life was short but his influence great. Nocturne in C-sharp Minor was my Valerica’s favorite. Her life was also short. She said this piece took her to far off places. Close your eyes and see where it takes you.”

             From the first resounding chords a flood of emotion flowed through Havah like a river current. In a moment she was both callow child, alive with anticipation, and wizened matron, bone weary and full of years. Her mother’s voice lulled and comforted her with a song about raisins and almonds. She saw her father’s face, half illuminated by candle flame as he poured over volume after volume of Talmud. Arel approached from the shadows, tall and thin. His gray eyes devoured her. His tender lips kissed her.

~~From Please Say Kaddish for Me

Valerica Dietrich - Framed

Valerica Dietrich © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Frederic Chopin’s Nocturne in C Sharp Minor soothed Havah’s jangled nerves. The ivory keys were smooth and comforting under her fingertips. Although she would never be a pianist of Ulrich’s caliber she played well enough to entertain an audience of one. Closing her eyes, she relished a soft breeze carrying the scents of daffodil and hyacinth through the open window.

Havah in a Frame

Havah Cohen Gitterman

~~From From Silt and Ashes 

     

 

 

Original Artwork - © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Arel Gitterman – Original Artwork – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Letting the strains of Chopin’s Nocturne in C-Sharp Minor waft over her, Shayndel sat in the rocking chair beside the piano with Tikvah asleep on her lap. While Shayndel did not know many musical pieces by name like her sister-in-law she could always recognize this one. When Havah was sad or in pain this would be the piece she chose to play.

~~From As One Must, One Can (2016)

Shayndel Abromovich-Original artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Shayndel Abromovich-Original artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Published by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

  While not a person or an animal, a piece of classical music becomes something of a friend and companion to Havah. Chopin’s Nocturne in C-Sharp Minor comforts her when reality becomes too much to handle.

            I fell in love with this piece and Chopin’s music when I saw the movie The Pianist. It’s haunting, ethereal beauty transports this author to other places so it seemed only natural it would do the same for Havah.

            Unlike the author, Havah has latent musical talent that Ulrich is only too happy to nurture. While he tries to steer her to something simpler for a beginner, she is determined to learn how to play the nocturne.

            I hope you’ll take the time to not only read my excerpts but also to enjoy the music.  

 

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Check out my author page on the Loiacono Website.  For all of the character studies thus far, click on the link Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Art and Blogs or my website RochelleWordArt.

26 February 2016

Published February 24, 2016 by rochellewisoff

The disc and the dragonfly

Erie Canal

The following photo is the PROMPT. Keep in mind that all photos are the property of the contributor, therefore copyrighted and require express permission to use for purposes other than Friday Fictioneers. Giving credit to whom credit is due is proper etiquette. 

Please be considerate and make an effort to stay within the suggested word count. 

PHOTO PROMPT - © Al Forbes

PHOTO PROMPT – © Al Forbes

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Due to schedule, travel and novel writing, my ‘story’ this week is a paragraph from the third novel (in progress) in my trilogy As One Must, One Can, which is due out this year. It’s not a complete story. Thank you for understanding. ^^’

Genre: Historical Fiction

(the year is 1907)

Word Count: 98

AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN – EXCERPT

In Kansas City motor cars were rapidly replacing the horse and buggy. Automobiles went faster and did not eat their weight in hay and oats. Even so, Nikolai preferred the clip-clop of horses’ hooves on pavement to the grinding noises and choking exhaust fumes of modern transportation. It did not matter for he could afford neither car nor carriage. If he could, walking, even in winter, would always be his preferred mode of travel for physical stamina. Tucking his head, he pulled his hat down and his coat collar up to shield his ears from the frigid wind.

Framed Dr. Nikolai

Nikolai Derevenko – Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Sunday, I had the pleasure of being interviewed by David Clarke of Blog Talk Radio. The interview is an hour long so you might want to come back to it. 😉

To hear, click here. 

An extra special ‘thank you’ to Amy Reese! Click the link to read her stunning review of Please Say Kaddish for Me. 

PSK Cover with border

Character Study – Mendel and David Cohen

Published February 8, 2016 by rochellewisoff
Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Although Havah’s older brothers, Mendel and David Cohen, perished at the beginning of Please Say Kaddish for Me, they are ever alive in her heart. Two very different personalities, Havah adored them both. Her memories of them are a constant thread throughout Please Say Kaddish for Me, From Silt and Ashes, and the imminent third novel in the trilogy, As One Must One Can.

            Her eldest brother, Mendel, eight years her senior, wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps as a rabbi.

***

            By the tender age of twelve, Havah had developed the attributes of a young woman. Despite her disappointed protests, her father agreed with her teacher that her Heder education should come to an end. The boys would never learn Holy writ with such a comely distraction.

            Her brother Mendel became her lamed, her teacher. While she missed her classmates’ challenges, she enjoyed mornings with Mendel and flourished under his tutelage. A strict teacher, he never allowed her any leeway because of her gender or kinship.

~~Taken from From Silt and Ashes

***

            David, who was two years younger than Mendel, was a gifted artist. In Please Say Kaddish for Me, Havah tells Shayndel that he could paint a flower so real that you would swear you could smell its fragrance.

            David was the mischievous brother who mercilessly teased his little sister. She regrets that shortly before his murder, they had quarreled. 

***

            With a suppressed sigh she covered the braided loaves with clean towels and set them on the back of the stove to rise. “The last time I baked Hollah, I couldn’t put raisins in it because my brother David ate all of them. I wish I hadn’t gotten so mad. I said horrid things.”

“Were they the last words you spoke to him?” Fruma Ya’el unfolded a linen tablecloth, snapping it so it billowed and dropped to cover the table.

“No.” Gathering the bowls and utensils, Havah hobbled to the sink. “I can still see him with Mama’s clean dish towel over his head, walking bent over. He sang all raspy like an old lady, too. ‘Little Bubbe Fuss Bucket. All astir over a raisin. A raisin. A shriveled little raisin. Oy, yoy, yoy.’” 

She took a kettle of hot water from the stove and poured it over the dishes. “I could never stay mad at him. If only I’d known—”

Gittel grabbed a dish towel. “Would you have done anything differently?”

A soap bubble floated up from the water. Havah popped it with her finger. “No.”

~~Taken from Please Say Kaddish for Me

***

            Each night of Hanukkah, Havah and her brothers took turns lighting the candles. Papa led the recitation of the blessings. To this day, when she heard distant thunder Havah swore it was Papa’s resonant voice chanting prayers in heaven.

            One year, her brother David, then twelve, ate so many macaroons he spent half the night in the outhouse.  The next morning, fourteen-year-old Mendel, always the teacher, seized the opportunity to expound on the evils of gluttony. David’s green-tinged cheeks flushed while six-year-old Havah giggled into her napkin. 

~~Taken from As One Must One Can (2016)

Published by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

***

 

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The Sequel to

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Amazon  Angus & Robertson  B&N  BAM  BookWorld  FishPond  Shelfari  The Book Depository  Waterstones  GoodReads  iDreamBooks  HPB Hudson Book Sellers   IndieBound  Powell’s Books

Amazon AU  Amazon UK  Amazon Germany  Amazon Italy  Amazon France  Amazon Spain

Check out my author page on the Loiacono Website.  For all of the character studies thus far, click on the link Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Art and Blogs or my website RochelleWordArt.

 

29 January 2016

Published January 27, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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Please include the PHOTO PROMPT with your story. All photos are copyrighted and may not be used outside of Friday Fictioneers without express permission and possible remuneration to the owner. Please be courteous and give credit where credit is due. 

The challenge is 100 WORDS OR LESS. It’s a worthwhile challenge that teaches us as writers how to conserve and use the strongest words to tell our stories. With the number of submissions every week, this is not only a great challenge but also a consideration to other readers. 

The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. Study it. Think about it. What kind of story does it tell you? Think outside the box. 

Thank you and Shalom, 

Your Fairy Blog Mother, Rochelle

 

PHOTO PROMPT - © ceayr

PHOTO PROMPT – © ceayr

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 99

SHOAH

            “Where’s Nadine?” I stamped my foot with childish impatience.

            “The Juif doesn’t live here anymore.” The man hissed through pinched lips.  

            “Because of the Bosche?”

            “No more questions.” The door slammed and he shouted from the other side. “Go away!”

________

            Seventy years later sunlight flickers on ocean waves at Saint-Marc. I walk along the deserted beach where Nadine and I gathered seashells and dreams.

            “Martine, swim with me.” 

            Shielding my eyes, I search the rippling waters. Nadine beckons. I’m warmed by her smile…and the twelve-year-old girl who choked her last in Auschwitz’s Zyklon-B showers lives forever in my heart.

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**Note: Today as I post my story it is 27 January. The United Nations designated January 27—the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau—as International Holocaust Remembrance Day. A time to remember and say “Never again!” 

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To learn more about Nadine click here.

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

Character Study – Rabbi Shimon and Miriam Cohen

Published January 24, 2016 by rochellewisoff

Out of the corner of her eye she [Havah] saw her mother creep through the doorway and inch toward the bed with a wooden rolling pin high over her head. She slammed it down on the back of the man’s head. With a sudden jerk and a grunt he released Havah. He rolled off her and fell to the floor unconscious.

She sat up, clutching a pillow and stared down at him. Blood pooled under his head and seeped into the cracks between the floor boards. This had to be a dream. In the morning Papa would wink at her over breakfast and assure her it had all been a horrendous nightmare.

 Her mother yanked her hand, dragged her from the bed and held her for a moment, her tears hot on Havah’s neck.

“Hurry, Havah. May the God of Israel go with you.” Taking Havah’s face between her hands her mother kissed her forehead.

“But Mama—”

Tugging Havah’s arm, her mother dragged her to the back door of the house and shoved her out. “No arguing. Go!”

Heart thumping, she ran. Thick smoke stung her eyes and burned her throat. She stopped and turned to look one last time. The blazing synagogue crumbled to the ground.

“No, Havah, don’t look back!”

                      ~~Taken from Please Say Kaddish for Me by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Miriam Cohen 2

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The Heder teacher’s face turned crimson. He narrowed his eyes and glared at five-year-old Havah as if she were a piglet about to be dumped on his doorstep. Then he clenched his tobacco-stained teeth and spat a brown glob on the doorstep.

Up until this moment she had been excited to learn to read the Torah, the words that came from Adoshem’s own mouth. Huddled against Papa’s shoulder she hid her eyes in his coat folds.

“You can’t be serious, Rabbi Shimon. She’s a girl.”

“So she is.” Papa’s arm tightened around her. “My daughter’s mind is every whit as keen as her brother Mendel’s.”

“To be certain she’s a bright one, and one day she’ll be a most excellent wife and mother. Perhaps she’ll even marry a rabbi herself but, Rebbe, to come to Heder with boys? It’s not right.”

“Where does the Torah say it’s wrong for a girl to learn?”

“Rabbi Ben Hyrcanus clearly stated in the Talmud that to teach a daughter Torah is tiflut, obscenity. And did he not also say that the words of the Torah should be burned rather than be entrusted to a woman? Rabbi, you of all people should know this.”

“As far as I’m concerned it’s opinion and rubbish! Didn’t the prophet Yo’el write ‘your sons and daughters shall prophecy’? Miriam and Deborah—were they not judges in Israel?”

“You win, Rebbe.”

“I always do.”

                 ~~Taken from From Silt and Ashes by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Published by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Until the pogrom that took them from her, Havah’s parents, Rabbi Shimon and Miriam Cohen were the two most important people her life.

            Not one to be bound by law and traditions, Rabbi Cohen relied more on Torah than Midrash, the rabbinic commentaries.  When questioned, he was quick to argue that the former was the irrefutable word of God while the latter was merely opinion and conjecture.  He encouraged his daughter and his wife, if they so desired, to study the Holy Word.

            Miriam was a gentle and loving wife who kept a clean, Kosher home. She considered her greatest treasures to be her husband, her two sons and her daughter.

            Havah adored her parents and her memories of them are a constant thread throughout the series. Even though she was only sixteen when they died, their words of wisdom are always there to guide her.

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Amazon Amazon Spain  Amazon Italy  Amazon Germany  Amazon UK  Amazon France

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The Sequel to

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Amazon  Angus & Robertson  B&N  BAM  BookWorld  FishPond  Shelfari  The Book Depository  Waterstones  GoodReads  iDreamBooks  HPB Hudson Book Sellers   IndieBound  Powell’s Books

Amazon AU  Amazon UK  Amazon Germany  Amazon Italy  Amazon France  Amazon Spain

Check out my author page on the Loiacono Website.  For all of the character studies thus far, click on the link Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Art and Blogs or my website RochelleWordArt.

22 January 2016

Published January 20, 2016 by rochellewisoff

Another Hightway

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Quite a few fictioneers took liberties with the word count last week. Remember, the challenge is a hundred words or less. Please take into consideration that our numbers are growing and there are more stories to read. Thank you. 

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The following photo is the PROMPT and comes from my own hubby. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan W. Fields

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE SIN IN SYNCOPATION

“I ain’t got no money for no music lessons, Professor Weiss.”

“Turn left and do the cake walk prance…”

“Your boy has a rare gift.”

“…Turn the other way…”

“I got five mouths to feed ‘sides his.”

“…do the slow drag…”

“No charge.”

 “…take your lady to the world’s fair.”

“Come away with me, my love.” 

“Is it really you, Chrysanthemum? But you’re—dead. Does that mean…?”

“…and do the ragtime dance.”

“Yes.”

_________

“Poor demented fella. Looks like he tried to play the piano…”  The doctor released Scott Joplin’s stiff, distorted hands from the restraints. “…and sang his life away.”

****

Note: Scott Joplin, known as the King of Ragtime, died in Manhattan State Hospital, 1 April 1917 in the final stages of syphilis induced dementia. 

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