11 August 2017

Published August 9, 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© CEAyr

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

FORWARD PASS

On an early November morning in 1909, Charles Stewart walked the deserted Kansas City cross-streets of Locust and Eighth. Weary after his team’s defeat, he reached his hotel. Throat raw, loyal fan that he was, he entered his enclosed hallway and cut loose.

“Rock chalk Jayhawk…!”

The next day, expecting the usual chastisement for his rowdy behavior, he met instead with cheers from other guests proclaiming him a hero.

Mr. Blank slapped the bewildered youth’s back. “Had it not been for your caterwauling, a burglar and his buddy would’ve robbed us all blind. You scared the bejabbers out of them.”

*Originally the cheer was created for KU’s (Kansas University in Lawrence, Kansas) science club by chemistry professor E. H. Bailey in 1886. Former President Theodore Roosevelt proclaimed it the greatest college chant of all time. Give a listen to what some have referred to as chilling. 😉

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4 August 2017

Published August 2, 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 © Dale Rogerson

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

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

PERSPECTIVE

Linda sat at Bridgette’s kitchen table and pointed at two floral arrangements. “Who are they from?”

Bridgette’s aquamarine eyes sparkled. “One’s from Noah and the other’s from Frank.”

Even in her late 40’s Bridgette maintained her slender form and vibrant red hair.

“You’re such a femme fatale.” Linda sighed and gulped her espresso. “Me? I’m just fatal.”

“Nonsense, ma chère! You’re adorable. I just haven’t found my Prince Charming like you. I’m jealous. You have it all.”

Linda fingered the crumpled divorce papers in her pocket served by her adulterous Prince Charming that morning. “Yes, I’ve certainly had it…all.”

PEDIGREE

Published July 31, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Cape Town, South Africa.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Once more I’m late to the party. Many thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for hosting this prompt.

Although I chose a photo from Cape Town, I traveled far afield. The architecture puts me in mind of the old part of Charleston, SC. So I took a story I wrote for Friday Fictioneers a couple of years ago and, as Karen graciously put it, breathed new life into it. At the same time, when South Africa comes to mind, I think of Apartheid. So there’s kind of connection…right? That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

PEDIGREE

I adored our handsome houseboy “Black-Jack.” Mama had a special smile just for him. Nobody told a better story. Sarah and I shared his lap, laughing and crying by turns.

One night I kissed his bronze cheek. “I wish you were my daddy, too.”

“So does I, my sweet li’l magnolia.”

When Sarah and I turned eight, Grandma sold him.

Mama swooned. I dried Sarah’s tears with my lace petticoat.

“Stop that, Emma.” Grandma snapped. “She’s your slave.”

“No! She’s my best friend. My sister.”

“Never!”

I still feel the sting of Grandma’s hand across my lips.

A month later the old biddy sold Sarah.

On my seventeenth birthday I was married off to a plantation owner near Charleston.

This morning I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl who bears no resemblance to either her blond father or me. In fact, she’s the spitting image of her Aunt Sarah.

Real life twins.

28 July 2017

Published July 26, 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 © J Hardy Carroll

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

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Genre: Historical Fiction from the 1980’s

Word Count: 100

DIAL TONE

The phone rang.

Tammy pouted. “It’s probably for Bobbie.”

“She’s on a date,” said Grandma. “Go answer the Ameche.”

“The A-what-chee?”

The ringing stopped.

“That’s what we called the telephone when I was a girl.” Grandma popped a VHS tape in the VCR. “Sit. I’ll make popcorn.”

“‘The Story of Alexander Graham Bell?’” Tammy read the case and groaned. “This movie’s older than dirt.”

Bobbie came home just as Don Ameche and Loretta Young exchanged loving smiles. “What’s with the black and white moldy oldie?”

The phone rang.

“Rad flick.” Tammy brushed a stray tear. “Better answer the Ameche, sis.”

Henry Fonda, Loretta Young and Don Ameche

And just for fun…

HOW IS MY DRIVING?

Published July 19, 2017 by rochellewisoff

PHOTO PROMPT © Kent Bonham

Kent’s photo put me back on that tour bus with Zvi. Normally I eschew Friday Fictioneers sequels or double dipping. With red, although unapologetic, countenance I am doing both this week. 🙄

Genre: Memoir/Anecdote

Word Count: 100

HOW IS MY DRIVING?

A rather shy man, our Israeli bus driver, Gabi had a welcoming smile for everyone. Every day we spoke, he in halting English and I in limited Hebrew.

What a driver! He maneuvered that behemoth through narrow streets I wouldn’t dare attempt to navigate in my Saturn. I was reminded of cartoon car chases where vehicles curved around corners like Gumby.

My seatmate grasped the armrest, her knuckles white. “He must ride a motorcycle.”

“Ahtah rokhev al ofanoah?” I asked him.

His sunny expression gave way to horror. “Lo! Mesukahn! Mesukahn!” He flashed his pocket translator which read, “Dangerous! Perilous!”

****

Aych ahnee noheg? How is my driving?

Gabi

14 July 2017

Published July 12, 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 © Janet Webb

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

BUTTON-DOWN CONFESSION

My mother’s button collection fascinated me. Among my favorites were pearly ones with silver trim or grape-shaped ones made of glass. Like the jar in which she stored them, they smelled of stale mustard.

One afternoon I dumped them out on the table. A shiny blue straggler embossed with curvy white leaves rolled toward the edge. Mom caught it.

Her faraway eyes sparkled like the button itself. “My dress fastened in front. Indigo satin. He called me Princess Blue Belle.”

“Cute. Daddy’s clever, isn’t he?”

“Oops!” Blushing, she crammed the button into her pocket. “Time to clean up for supper.”

*

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

COUNTRY OF THE BLIND

Published July 10, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Bogota, Columbia.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Caroll for hosting this irresistible challenge each week.

Unfashionably late to the party this week. In fact I didn’t think I’d be on the guest list at all, but this piece sort of niggled inside my head. I seem to be in a reflective mode lately. I did try a bit of research…Jews in Bogota…”Famous People in Bogota for $50, Alex.” But this one haunted me and begged to be written. Now, if I haven’t bored you with intro…

Genre: Anecdote/Memoir

Word Count: 150

COUNTRY OF THE BLIND

The 1950’s through the 1960’s is often referred to as the Golden Age of Television. In a day where astounding computer graphics have replaced the salt-in-water special effects of Star Trek’s transporter beam, Millennials might scoff at such presumption.

Where are programs such as Playhouse 90 and, my personal favorite, The Twilight Zone? In my opinion, reality shows or over-the-top sitcoms are no match for them.

One black and white production of the DuPont Theater etched its stamp on my psyche and gave me nightmares. The play starred Lee Marvin who portrayed Juan De Nuñez, a prospector from the city who seeks wealth in the mountains of Columbia. Instead he finds himself held captive in village where everyone is blind.

To this day I feel the shock that sizzled through eight-year-old me when the camera zeroed in on an eyeless Marvin who said, “I am the richest man in Bogota.”

*

7 July 2017

Published July 5, 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 © Claire Sheldon

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Genre: Hysterical Fiction

Word Count: 100

GEM OF AN IDEA

Darren scratched his ear with a straightened paperclip. Gina slapped it from his hand. “Stop! You’ll perforate your eardrum!”

“Then I won’t havta hear your nagging.”

“Ohhh, just do your homework.”

“Do your own.” He rolled his eyes. “Sisters.”

“My report’s done.” She stacked three typewritten pages and paper-clipped the corners together. “Consider the lowly paperclip. Know who invented it?”

“Who cares?”

“Some think it was Johan Vaaler, a Norwegian. But it was actually an American, William D. Middlebrook, who even patented the machine to make them in 1899. Whaddya think?”

“I think you need to get a life.”

*

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DAYS OF WINE AND WATERCOLOR

Published July 3, 2017 by rochellewisoff

It all started when my agent Jeanie suggested I post character studies of my throng of characters on my blog to garner interest in my yet-to-be-published novels. I didn’t start rendering them in pencil and watercolor straightaway. You can blame it on Officer Lafayette A. Tillman, the second African American on the Kansas City Police Force. Since he shows up in FROM SILT AND ASHES and becomes an influential person in the life of Lev Gitterman in AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN I naturally wanted to post a character study about him. There are photos of him online but the only ones I could find were copyrighted. That’s when it occurred to me to paint a portrait of him.

Fast forward to two novels later with one on the way, my publisher wanted to know if I’d be interested in putting together a coffee table companion book. “Let me think about that a minute…yes.” For going on two years, I’ve worked to make that book upwards of 220 pages. In addition to the sepia portraits of the characters, I’ve been painting watercolor scenes from each of the books. I hate to call it ‘work’ though. To be honest, I’m having the time of my life. 😉

This brings me to three months ago when I was introduced to Alexis at a place in Blue Springs, Missouri called Print Graphics. It had been suggested to me that I have prints made to sell. A festival in the area called Corks & Canvas would be a good venue, I was told, to market, not only my novel trilogy, but my artwork as well. So the games began!

My husband Jan was excited at the prospect of my finally showing my artwork. Maybe those student loans to the Kansas City Art Institute would finally pay off. At any rate, he was totally on board with purchasing the display racks and tables. He used his Academy Sports employee discount to buy a purple tent and matching chairs. (You expected, maybe white?)

I didn’t think I’d have much to show, but thanks to Alexis, who is an artist herself, my stack of prints grew. My office/studio took on the appearance of an explosion in an art gallery. We found thrift stores to be wonderful places to find gently used frames, some with pristine mats that were the perfect size for my prints.

When the time came, Jan, bless his heart, spent most of Friday packing the truck so there’d be little left to do Saturday morning. We lucked out. After a month of stifling heat and humidity, the temps dropped and we had pleasant weather. We were on site by 8:00 am and set up by 10:00.

I enjoyed friends who showed up to support me and meeting new friends. One young Jewish woman stopped and we chatted for a long time. She was drawn to a couple of the paintings because they reminded her of her grandparents. While she didn’t buy anything, she said she would definitely get back with me. I hope she does.

If Corks & Canvas is any indication, it seemed to me that the artwork sold the books and visa versa. Financially, it was a successful day and makes us want to combine book signing and art display at other festivals.

Who knows where this will lead?

Gathering and pricing.

Can I interest you in a book or 3? How about a little something for your wall?

Blowing bubbles to pass the time.

Almost ready to go.

Jan taking a break. If you zoom in on the artwork behind him you’ll have a glimpse of work by the wonderfully talented Bruce McClain.

Click on photos to view larger versions.

UNTER DER WAND

Published July 1, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to Berlin’s Stresemannstraße in the former GDR.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for facilitating this weekly challenge.

The Berlin Wall Today

Some of you might remember a shorter version of this story. I confess. It’s a refurbished rerun. It just seemed to fit and it’s been two years since I posted it. Perhaps the addition of fifty words has freshened it up a bit.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

UNTER DER WAND

“Hurry, Annika.” Vati whispered, glanced over his shoulder at the border guards and pulled me by the hand down Bernauer Strasse. “Mr. Schulenburg and his friends have risked their lives for this moment. This is our one and only chance to get to West.”

“What about Fritz?”

“Forget him!”

It was October 1964, a few days before my seventh birthday. What did I care of Mr. Schulenburg’s sacrifice? I only cared about Fritz.

Blinded by tears, I stumbled into a crowded building once used as a toilettenhäuschen where we followed other refugees through a hole in the floor. My father held me as we crawled through the dank tunnel. Within minutes we were lifted out on the other side.

While others shouted for joy I mourned my loss.

“Don’t cry, Liebling.” Vati grinned and took a groggy puppy from his coat pocket. “I couldn’t forget him either.”

Once more I share a link that’s worth a little over three minutes of your time.