30 October 2015

Published October 28, 2015 by rochellewisoff

*A SPECIAL WORD OF APPRECIATION*

Thanks to all of your who responded to my message last week. Your words of affirmation renewed my Friday Fictioneers resolve for another year. It was also interesting to learn that others share my pet peeves and added a few of their own.

The most often mentioned pet peeve, aside from serials and multiple prompt stories, was that of certain blogs that make it difficult to leave a comment. I personally made the switch from Blogspot to WordPress three years ago and have no regrets.

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The next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. There is only one prompt per week on which to base your story. However, it is perfectly all right to add other photos to go along with your story, just not to replace the prompt. Our rules are simple and few, this one is non-negotiable. Please remember to credit the photographer. It’s not just a nice thing to do it is PROPER ETIQUETTE!

PHOTO PROMPT – © Dale Rogerson

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

GODS AND BEASTS

April 20, 1931

Dearest Brother.

Thank you for the sugar and the ham. I wish you could be here to share my strudel as I am quite alone in the world.

Remember when you came to visit me in Vienna and we went shopping? It was as if a brother dropped from heaven. I still have the dear brooch you bought for me.

How unfair of the insurance company to terminate me because of you. One day these insignificant beings will realize their mistake when your name shines and blazes over Deutschland.

Happy birthday,

Your loving sister,

Paula (Hitler) Wolff

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Character Study-The Abromovich Children

Published October 18, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Adoration for his children radiated from Evron’s dark eyes. “Who wants to read the first line of tonight’s psalm?”

Tuli slid off Havah’s lap. He hopped up and down. “I do! I do!”

Hoisting him onto his lap, Evron held the book for him. “Our little rooster always reads first. He just started Heder and hasn’t learned to read as many words as the rest of us. The first line of the psalm is usually the shortest.”

After Tuli sounded out three words Zelig read his portion. Ruth and Rukhel read the next two lines together. Their pronunciation of the Hebrew words and understanding amazed Arel. “Your daughters read the Holy Books?”

Evron, beaming with pride, kissed each of his children before they returned to their places on the floor. “Why not? The Almighty has blessed them with sharp minds. Why shouldn’t they have the same opportunities as their brothers?”

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

Published by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Top-Ruth and Rukhel, Bottom L. to. R.-Zelig, Velvil, Tuli

Soon after Havah comes to live with Evron, Katya and their four children Havah’s skill as a midwife is tested when Katya gives birth to her fifth child.

Identical twins, Ruth and Rukhel, the eldest of the Abromovich clan, had hoped for a little sister but are delighted with their new brother Velvil. They are bright, happy girls who are prone to finish each other’s sentences. Shayndel observes, “It’s as if Adoshem gave those girls two bodies and one heart.”

Zelig is a studious boy who one day would like to become a rabbi. Old for his age, he prefers reading to playing games. His noisy sisters and brothers often test his patience.

Tuli, an affectionate child who loves to draw and read, is at once Havah’s favorite.

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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.

Available Internationally on Kindle and in Print

If you’ve read and enjoyed, please leave a review on one of these sites. It helps sell books. 😉

Shalom,

Rochelle

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Character Study – Katya and Evron Abromovich

Published September 21, 2015 by rochellewisoff

“Evron, open up. It’s your baby brother.” Itzak pounded his fist on a wooden door that looked like it might split in half at the slightest touch.

While she waited between Gittel and Shayndel for someone to answer, Havah rubbed her sore neck. She had slept in the wagon most of the way to Kishinev in a most uncomfortable position.

Finally the door swung open and a man who looked like Itzak, only taller, beckoned. His laughter even sounded like Itzak’s. “You we’ve been expecting, Little Brother. But we had no idea you’d be bringing all of Svechka with you.”

Havah followed Gittel and Arel over the threshold into the small house. Although not much larger or better constructed than Tova’s shack it was warm and welcoming. Garlic and onion aromas made her stomach grumble.

After the brothers embraced and exchanged back slaps, Evron pulled back and winked at Shayndel. “We haven’t seen your lovely wife since she was a little girl with yellow braids. And now look at her. She’s a rose in full bloom.”

Evron’s wife Katya, a bony woman with buckteeth, slits for eyes and beak-like nose, hugged her blushing sister-in-law. “Never is a woman more beautiful than when she carries life inside.”

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

Published by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

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Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

When Evron signed the marriage contract with Katya, Itzak Abromovich felt sorry for his brother who was forced to marry such a homely woman. But he never needed to waste his pity for Evron sees only Katya’s inner beauty and is deeply in love with her.

Their tiny house is already full of children–two girls and two boys–and there hardly seems to be enough space for them, let alone five houseguests. Havah soon learns that Katya and Evron always have room for friends and family.

When Gittel introduces Havah as an orphan Katya embraces Havah and says, “I don’t see any orphans. Do you? I see only mishpokha, family.”

Havah finds love, hope and a safe haven in Katya and Evron’s humble Kishinev home.

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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.

Available Internationally on Kindle and in Print

If you’ve read and enjoyed, please leave a review on one of these sites. It helps sell books. 😉

Shalom,

Rochelle

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11 September 2015

Published September 9, 2015 by rochellewisoff

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

Note: It’s friendly gesture, if not common courtesy, to acknowledge the photographer.

PHOTO PROMPT – © Jennifer Pendergast

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

MY COUNTRY ‘TIS OF THY PEOPLE YOU’RE DYING

Eighty winters have passed on Colville Reservation since Chief Joseph told us stories of our people, but his face is ever before me.

“My heart is sick when I remember their good words and broken promises,” he said. “They confiscated our land and pursued us for three moons until we were only forty miles from Canada and freedom.”

My twelve-year-old heart thumped wildly. “Why did you surrender?”

“Our children were freezing and their mothers had no food.” Chief Joseph’s weary eyes became distant clouds without lightning or thunder, heavy with rain. “I will fight no more against the white man.”

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Chief Joseph and Family c. 1880

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Nez Perce Canoe

This is kind of long but worth the listen if you have the time.

28 August 2015

Published August 26, 2015 by rochellewisoff

*Note: It is also common courtesy to give the contributor of the photo credit in your post. The next photo in this gallery is the PHOTO PROMPT. Does it suggest a story to you? Tell us in one hundred words or less. My story will follow the inLinkz icon. I enjoy honest feedback and comments.

PHOTO PROMPT – © Claire Fuller

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

HAINING, JANE; PRISONER NUMBER 79467

When I was six they sent me to the girl’s home where I found Jane Haining the house matron. Sometimes I had trouble understanding her brogue-accented Hungarian but her love transcended all language barriers.

She mothered each of us as her own “wee bairns”, whether Jewish or Christian.

When the Nazis took over Budapest she disobeyed orders and refused to return to Scotland, saying, “If these children need me in days of sunshine, how much more in darkness?”

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I study the numbers tattooed on my arm and I’m haunted by the question, “Why did I live and that angel die?”.

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21 August 2015

Published August 19, 2015 by rochellewisoff

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

PHOTO PROMPT – © C.E.Ayr

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Genre Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BEFORE KILROY

“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”

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Father of Graffiti

Character Study – Anzya

Published August 10, 2015 by rochellewisoff

“‘Stir the stew every ten minutes, Princess. Don’t let it burn.’ With a threatening scowl Anzya shoved past her nearly upsetting the laundry. Her mouth made a thin line under her narrow nose. She secured a black shawl over her kerchief.

“The sour woman seldom spoke and never smiled. Perhaps she had no teeth. When Havah asked Ulrich about her he said she was as much of a mystery as when she first came to work for him a year ago.”

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

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Ulrich’s kitchen is completely Kosher because he’s given his Jewish cook, Anzya, free rein. For reasons Havah, doesn’t understand, he is compassionate toward the bitter woman even though she returns his caring with animosity.

Anzya regards Havah with disdain and sarcastically calls her Princess.

At one point in the story, in a fit of anger she asks Havah, “How can you be so friendly to him? How can you let him touch you?”

“Ulrich? Why don’t you like him?”

“He’s a goy. Isn’t that reason enough?”

Anzya will soon understand that Ulrich isn’t just another gentile, nor is Havah a pampered princess.

***

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.

Available Internationally on Kindle and in Print

If you’ve read and enjoyed, please leave a review on one of these sites. It helps sell books. 😉

Shalom,

Rochelle

ANGUS & ROBERTSON AMAZON B&N BAM BOOKWORLD FISHPOND SHELFARI BOOK DEPOSITORY WATERSTONES GOODREADS IDREAMBOOKS

7 August 2015

Published August 5, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The following photo is the PROMPT. A few of you may recognize it from three years ago, although for most I think it will be new. Due to a current emergency, I’ll be recuperating from oral surgery by the time this post goes live. Next week will also be a repeat to allow more time to visit with out of town guests. So if I don’t answer your comments right away or comment on your story, you’ll know the reason why. Thanks to all of you for your understanding.

Shalom, Rochelle

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I posted the original version of this story May 11, 2012. I’ve taken the liberty of reworking it. The beauty of writing is that there’s always room to grow. If you’d like to read the original click here.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

SLEEPWALK

Like a pearl brooch pinned to mottled velvet, the moon shone through a web of tree branches. A desperate voice yelled her name.

It was always the same dream. Kanzie would wake with a scream to everyday shadows and feel relieved by her comfortable darkness.

Then one night she woke up outside. Mississippi air stuck to her skin like a damp cloak. For the first time in twenty years she saw the trees rustling in the wind. Memories seared her.

Why did white-robed ghosts put that rope around her gentle Daddy’s neck? His terror-filled eyes drilled her.

“Kanzie, don’t look.”

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Character Study – Hershel Levine

Published July 20, 2015 by rochellewisoff

“A thin stream of smoke issued through Hershel’s pursed lips. ‘Practical wisdom is one thing, Rebbe, but study of the Holy Writings is quite another. Some things are not meant to be. I ask you, if we start sending our daughters to Heder, who will cook and take care of the home?’ He wagged his finger under Arel’s nose. ‘Would you want your wife studying at your side instead of raising your children?’”

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

In the beginning of the story, Cantor Hershel Levine’s ideas about women seem rigid and traditional. While his arranged marriage to Fruma Ya’el is a union of mutual tolerance, the demons from his past keep it from being a happy one. He finds his greatest joy and treasure in their daughter, Gittel whom he refers to as the sweetest of flittering birds.

As a firm believer in tzedakah, religious and moral obligation, he readily takes on the role of Havah’s legal guardian. Nothing like Gittel, Havah challenges his convictions and eventually wins his heart.

Published by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

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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.

Available Internationally on Kindle and in Print

ANGUS & ROBERTSON AMAZON B&N BAM BOOKWORLD FISHPOND SHELFARI BOOK DEPOSITORY WATERSTONES GOODREADS IDREAMBOOKS

17 July 2015

Published July 15, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. What do you see and where do you see it? Think Thoreau.

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

LE RÉSEAU COMÈTE

“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?”

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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.

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“Yes, it’s true.”