4 November 2016

Published November 2, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE NIGHT AMERICA TREMBLED

In 1938 my dad sprang for a new RCA Victor 7K1 console.

The radio took a prominent place in our home. President Roosevelt’s voice filled our living room. I loved Charlie McCarthy. My sister adored Bing Crosby.

One night, putting the finishing touches on my Halloween costume, mom turned the dial. “Ramon Raquello and his orchestra.”

I rolled my eyes. “Boring.”

A panicked voice interrupted. “Ladies and gentlemen this is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever witnessed…”

We cowered, believing, as many Americans did, invaders from Mars had landed. What a pity they weren’t real and didn’t devour the Reichstag.

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“…it was intended to be the Mercury theater’s own version of dressing up in a sheet and jumping out of a bush and saying, ‘Boo!’ Starting now we couldn’t soap all your windows and steal your garden gates by tomorrow night so we did the next best thing.” Orson Welles, October 30,1938

28 October 2016

Published October 26, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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NOTE ON THE GREAT PROMPT FIASCO: When this went up this morning (02:30 my time) the prompt did not appear. I’ve now fixed the problem and you should be seeing the prompt. For those who wrote in its absence, kudos. For those who are coming in later and can see the prompt, it is NOT OK to choose a different photo.

PHOTO PROMPT © Peter Abbey

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Four years ago, this week, Madison Woods, the creator of Friday Fictioneers turned her baby over to me. Becoming the FFF – Friday Fictioneers Facilitator is one of the best things I’ve ever done. A rousing THANK YOU to all who faithfully participate.

Shalom,

Rochelle

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Busy-ness abounds this week. Therefore, I’m cheating. The following story isn’t exactly a story, but the opening paragraphs, as written, of the first chapter of AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN. Naturally, I hope this might whet your appetite to read the rest of the book.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BREATH AND SHADOW

Afternoon sun streamed through the tall classroom windows and cast long shadows across the dusty floor. On the chalkboard in rigid script was written, “9 October 1907, Wednesday.” Arithmetic problems in childish scrawls covered another blackboard on the opposite wall.

Behind her desk, the teacher sat with rawboned fingers clasped on top of her attendance book. Her hair was parted down the middle and pulled back from her face into a severe bun.

Under the teacher’s spectacled glare, Havah fidgeted on the hard chair. “What did my Reuven do that was so terrible?”

“He gave another boy a black eye.”

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MISS KLINE Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

REUVEN – Original Artwork ©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

HAVAH -Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The proof is in which means more editing. Release date to follow soon.

21 October 2016

Published October 19, 2016 by rochellewisoff

ANNOUNCING GREAT NEWS!!!

Alicia Jamtaas has been published! Her short story, “A Private Death” has been included in the fall issue of “Sweet Tree Review.” Way to go Alicia!

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PHOTO PROMPT © Claire Fuller

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Genre: Anecdote

Word Count: 100

PENNY-ANTE

Sunday was “Fan Tan” night when I was eight. My family played the card game for pennies.

“Where’s that seven of hearts?” Dad tossed a copper on the table with mock disgust. “Shelly? You only have one card left?”

“The little brat’s got it,” said my fourteen-year-old brother pitching his coin.

I batted my eyelashes. “Why, Jeffrey, whatever do you mean?” With a dramatic flourish, I laid down the seven. “I win!”

It’s not the victories I remember as much as the unprecedented peace between my parents, my father’s relentless teasing, and laughing so hard I nearly wet my pants.

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Character Study – Charles Rosenthal

Published October 7, 2016 by rochellewisoff

As a girl in, Fruma Ya’el fell in love with an idealistic Jewish doctor from the United States.

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

“I was your age when a doctor came to visit Svechka—Dr. Rosenthal—all the way from New York, America,” she tells Havah. “He claimed it was his mission to recruit Jews to become doctors so we wouldn’t always be at the mercy of the Goyim. He stayed for two years and filled my head full of knowledge and dreams…”

Recognizing Fruma Ya’el’s aptitude for medicine, Charles urged her to return to New York with him to study medicine and marry him. When tragedy struck she laid her aspirations to rest. Obeying her father’s wishes, she married Herschel. Dejected and heartbroken, Charles left Svechka.

Dr. Charles Rosenthal – Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Setting down the tattered diaper she used as a polishing cloth, Fruma Ya’el reached into a concealed pocket in the wooden box’s lining and pulled out an old tintype. Lean, with black hair, bushy moustache and olive skin, to this day, Charles’ image held the power to quench her arid heart’s thirst if only for the briefest moment. The memory of his lips pressed hard against hers still lingered in her mind like sweet cream and honey.

“Charles. I can’t.”

“You’d rather rot in ignorance because of a narrow minded old man and a piece of paper than come with me?”

“I’m all my father has left.”

Charles’ dark eyes filled. He grasped her face with both hands. “I beg of you, Ya’el. Think. There are schools cropping up all over America for women. You’ll be a brilliant doctor, a medical pioneer.”

“What about Papa’s honor?”

“Damn ‘Papa’s honor’!”

~~Taken from Please Say Kaddish for Me

Published by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

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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

The Sequel

Amazon Amazon Spain Amazon Italy Amazon Germany Amazon UK Amazon France

Watch for the third in Havah’s Series!

COMING SOON!

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.

7 October 2016

Published October 5, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BORN ON THE 4^TH OF JULY

“Greetings to all you boneheads in the Pacific, this is your number one enemy, your favorite playmate, Orphan Ann, with some good jive.”

Trembling, Iva put down her script and set the needle on the record. What choice did she have? She had to eat.

Stranded in Tokyo after a short trip to visit her aunt, she refused to renounce her US citizenship. Japanese customs repulsed her. She longed for hamburgers and Coca-Cola in her comfortable California home.

***

Thirty-two years, six of them in prison for treason, later, President Gerald Ford pardoned Iva Toguri D’aquino, also known as Tokyo Rose.

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Click!

30 September 2016

Published September 28, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Amy Reese

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It’s not exactly an excerpt but a snippet tweaked to be a teaser to my book From Silt and Ashes.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

PRELUDE TO AN ODYSSEY

After weeks of contemplation and numerous entreaties from Dr. Trubachov in Ukraine, Dr. Nikolai Derevenko tendered his resignation to St. Thomas Hospital. As he left the administrator’s office he felt one of his burdens had lifted.

“Good morning, Doctor.”

An attractive nurse whose dimensions stretched her starched uniform to its limits cocked her head and flashed a dimpled smile. He followed her with his eyes to the other end of the corridor until she turned and entered a patient’s room.

When he returned to his original path he looked up in time to avoid a collision with a police officer.

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If you’ve read it and enjoyed please leave a review on Amazon.com. Thank you.

23 September 2016

Published September 21, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

PINOCHLE CHARLIE’S DAUGHTER

Rose Borach’s heart sank. “Fania, don’t quit school. You’re too smart to end up like your worthless father.”

“I won’t.” The skinny seventeen-year-old glided across the room with the grace of a ballerina. “My grades stink and I’m still in the eighth grade.” She sang, “Give my regards to Broooaddwaaay!” With an exaggerated curtsy, she kissed Rose’s cheek. “Someday you’re gonna see my name in lights.”

“What name? Borax? Jenny Waters? Muddy Waters?”

***

Two years later in 1910, nineteen-year-old Fania burst through Rose’s door and flashed her newly signed contract. “Look, Ma, I’m in the Ziegfeld Follies. Me! Fanny Brice!”

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For those not familiar with this great lady of the theater, may I introduce on of my childhood heroes.

16 September 2016

Published September 14, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

WHITHER THOU GOEST

Obed grunted and pushed but could not budge the heavy stone to grind flour.

“You’re too small, son.” Ruth handed him a bundle of sheaves and a mallet. “Here, thresh these for me.”

His eyes shone like starlight reflecting off the sea. Her heart swelled with love for him leaving no room for loneliness.

He pounded the barley kernels. “Tell me about my father.”

Obed’s face bore traces of both Mahlon and Mahlon’s Uncle Boaz, her beloved men, dead and buried. How do I explain Hebrew law regarding husbands and widows to a three-year-old?

“To begin with, you had two.”

Click

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A lovely review from GAH Learner. Thank you, Gabriele!

9 September 2016

Published September 7, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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I’m not sure at this stage of the game when my next novel As One Must, One Can will be released. However this prompt is perfect for the following excerpt. The operative is excerpt and, admittedly, it is not a complete story. It is set in Kansas City, Missouri in the year 1908 where Arel Gitterman makes his living as a tailor.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 99

EXCERPT FROM AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN

Two electric fans only circulated hot air, thick with machine oil and chalk dust, in the tailor shop. Arel’s rigid collar irritated his neck and he pushed his wet hair from his forehead. His sewing machine hummed and afternoon light glinted off the bobbing needle as he guided a shirtsleeve under the presser foot. A drop of sweat rolled down his cheek and dripped onto the cuff.

Whipping the linen shirt off the table, he hurried to wash it before the stain could set in. A wave of nausea swept over him and a sharp pain seared his chest.

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Thank you to our own GAH Learner for such a lovely review blog of PLEASE SAY KADDISH FOR ME. (Click title to read.)

Original Artwork - © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

COMING SOON!

2 September 2016

Published August 31, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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The following photo is the PROMPT. It’s a first run, never before seen by Friday Fictioneers. PLEASE…because it’s PROPER ETIQUETTE…give credit to the photographer somewhere in your post. Vijaya Sundaram this week. Thank you.

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Genre: Poetic Justice

Word Count: 100

THIS ONE IS MINE

Enan’s grandiloquent notes set off explosions in my heart. I kept every embellished missive in a gilded box. His purple prose enslaved me.

After every beating or tongue lashing, he would gift me with an impassioned written apology and weep until I absolved him of his guilt.

One day he left our cottage whilst I slept. A card on the nightstand, penned in his sweeping hand simply said, “Goodbye.”

***

I wanted to search for him—beg him to come back. Instead, a fountain of sparks illumes the black sky. His words scatter amid the ashes and my spirit soars.