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.

LAFAYETTE A. TILLMAN-Original Artwork – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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!

GAVREL WOLINSKY- Orignial Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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.

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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.

30 June 2017

Published June 28, 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 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

“I AM STILL ZVI.”

He smiled from his front seat on the bus. Zvi obviously enjoyed his job—introducing a group of dusty pilgrims to Eretz Yisra’el.

“The field on the left is 100% cotton. On the right—50% polyester.”

Looking beyond his twinkling eyes, one could see the depth of his faith and commitment to his ancient homeland. I only imagined what he experienced as an IDF soldier in 1967 for he avoided speaking of it.

Eleven years later I still hear his voice and his daily greeting.

“Today in Israel there is no rain, there is no snow. Don’t worry. Be happy.”

Zvi with his daughter Sarah, also a tour guide.

Shalom!

“Move, you dumb ass!” “Yes, dear.” With Cuzzin Kent.

Greetings from HaAretz – The Land

At the Wall

MUTINY ON THE USS MGM

Published June 27, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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.

Here it is, Friday Fictioneers Eve and I still couldn’t resist Mr. Pegman. I’m very late to the party due to an extremely full weekend. My first art show/book signing was an immense success. So with a sheepish, but happy grin, I submit my story. Many Mahalos to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for hosting this challenge.

Pitcairn Island

When I saw Pitcairn Island, my mind went to Fletcher Christian and Captain Bligh. Christian’s descendants still live there after over 300 years. At any rate, I chose a different facet of its history.

MUTINY ON THE USS MGM

“The role of a lifetime and you’re perfect for it,” Frank handed the actor the script. “I promise you an epic your fans won’t forget.”

Steely gray-green eyes pierced through Frank. “Get Fairbanks, he’s a natural in sissy knee-pants.”

“That’s what they wore in the 1700’s.”

“And you want me to wear a damned pigtail? Like a little girl?” The actor ran his fingers through his dark waves and flexed his pectorals. “I have an image to maintain.”

Frank’s irritation at the petulant performer mounted. “Queues were normal for manly men of the day. And…er…one more thing, Clark. Seamen in the Royal Navy weren’t allowed facial hair.”

Clark Gable tossed the script in Frank’s lap. “You want me to shave? Have you lost your mind?”

Frank held up a photo of a Polynesian beauty “Meet Mamo Clark. Your costar.”

A dimpled smile spread Gable’s lips. “The moustache will grow back.”

23 June 2017

Published June 21, 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 © Ted Strutz

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Genre: Speculatively Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

DESIGNATION

Slow moving traffic and gray skies contributed to Ted’s equally gray mood. The rhythmic thump and swish of windshield wipers lulled him.

He had almost drifted off when banging on his passenger-side window startled him. Leaning over, he opened the door.

“Mahalo, hoaloha. I must get back to my sheep near the harbor.”

“Friday Harbor?” Ted stared at the stranger’s crescent-shaped eyes and old fashion clothing. “Where’re you from?”

“Hawaii, but I work for Fort Cowitz.”

“They shut down in 1869. What’s your name?”

“Poalima. ‘Friday’ in English.”

A horn’s blast made Ted jump and the stranger vanished like steam.

*

Mahalo, hoaloha – thank you, friend.

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16 June 2017

Published June 14, 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

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

COMMISSION NUMBER 3

Trina wasn’t forced to wear a yellow star like her friend Hanna, but she was ostracized by the other children who called her schwarz schimpanse.

One day a uniformed woman entered the classroom. “Trina Azikiwe, I’m here to take you to the doctor.

“I’m not sick.”

The officer dealt Trina’s cheek a stinging blow. “Silence, Rheinlandbastard!”

Trina would never forget the cruel procedure that rendered her forever childless or the doctor’s admonition. “Never have sexual relations with good Germans.”

Good Germans? There were none better than her golden-haired mother and handsome bronze father who perished for their ‘sin’ in Dachau.

***

NOTE -Schwarz schimpanze – Black chimpanzee…(Do I need to translate ‘Rheinlandbastard?’)

*

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OPUS MAJESTUOSO

Published June 11, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman walks through Guatemala City

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 hosting this enjoyable challenge!

Once more, following the research trail I learned some history I didn’t know. If that’s not wonderful enough, this is ART history.

Mural by Carlos Mérida – Institute of Social Security in Guatemala City

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

OPUS MAJESTUOSO

Carlos hunched over the piano, hands over his ears, tears dripping on the ivory keys. “No puedo oír la música. Mi vida se acabó.”

“Mi hijo,” Papa squeezed Carlos’ shoulder, “my son, you are only fifteen. It is sad that sickness damaged your ears, but your life is just beginning.”

“How can I be a pianist if I cannot hear the music?”

Papa opened a varnished wooden box containing tubes of color and various sized brushes. “Your art teacher says you show gran potential.”

Rolling one of the brushes between his fingers, a slow smile spread Carlos’ lips. His heart raced as he stroked an imaginary canvas. “I will paint todo el mundo, the whole world.”

___

51 years later, in 1958, Delilah Mérida’s smile radiated love and pride when the Guatemalan government honored his artistic achievement with the Order of the Quetzal. “My husband makes music for the eyes.”

Carlos Mérida

Click here from más información

***

Although I hope it came through in context, here’s the translation: “No puedo oír la musica. Mi vida se acebó.” -“I can’t hear the music. My life is over.”

9 June 2017

Published June 7, 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.

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

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No doubt everyone has their own version of my story. This came to mind on one such night where I solved all of the world’s troubles and none of my own.

Genre: Somewhat humorous

Word Count: 99

EARWORM

I stare at the ceiling fan, hoping to hypnotize myself into oblivion. Instead my tangled thoughts rage with each rotation.

“Sherry ba-abeee…Sher-er-reee.”

Midnight.

“I’m gonna make a you my-yi-yi-in.”

“Authors are a dime a dozen. Chaim Potok I’ll never be. Loser.”

“Come, come, come out toniiight.”

01:45

Every person who’s ever wronged me comes to mind. I plot revenge.

“We’ll dance the night awaaaay.”

03:30. Numpty o’clock. I should just get up.

Finally my head sinks into the hollow of my pillow and I succumb to a delicious wave of drowse.

“Crap! I forgot to pay the gas bill.”

*

And just because I can. 😈 Buah ha ha!

HEAD TRIP

Published June 5, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman walks along the docks of Cebu City, Philippines

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.

Another week, another Pegman tour. Thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for hosting this weekly challenge.

Fort San Pedro

What writer among us has never suffered from writer’s block?

Genre: Questionable

Word Count: 150

HEAD TRIP

“Señorita Wisoff? Daydreaming again?”

“No, Señor Scott.” I snap my head to attention. A twitter travels around the classroom. My cheeks blaze with embarrassment. “I—I guess I dozed off.”

“Can you tell me which explorer landed in Cebu in 1521 and converted Rajah Humobon and his queen to Christianity?”

“Vasco de Gama?”

“Guess again. This explorer met his death soon after.”

“Pope John?”

“Where’s your homework, Señorita?”

Sweat trickling down my backbone, I open my notebook to a page of scrawled sentences. “I did my deberes gramáticas.”

Eyes aflame, my high school Spanish teacher rips out my paper and holds it aloft. “You see, class, what comes of not paying attention.”

Suddenly I’m up to my knees in Pacific Ocean, surrounded by angry natives wielding bamboo spears.

“Holy Magellan! What a nightmare!” Snapping open my eyes, I kick off the bedcovers. “What on earth can I write for Pegman?”