4 December 2015

Published December 2, 2015 by rochellewisoff

If you want to be part of this group click the link above and follow the rules set forth by Jennifer Pendergast, the leader of this subgroup. No one is under obligation to participate nor is it necessary to dig something up to criticize for the sake of critique. Please keep it polite and friendly.

The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. Roger has no website or blog but takes beautiful photos and enjoys letting us use them.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Genre: Too Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

I WILL REMIND YOU

When I was a little girl my mother delighted in making birthdays memorable with shiny packages, bright balloons and colorful streamers. The cakes she decorated were works of art.

“I like red.” She looks at the birthday balloon I brought and then at me with a puzzled frown. Her eyes, once full of light, are little more than murky windows to a drifting soul.

“The eggs rolled out of the henhouse and smashed the cupcakes…” her voice trails off and the struggle to shape the words is evident. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I remember you.”

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While my story this week is fictionalized it is based on a recent visit to my mother in law. Alzheimer’s is the cruelest of diseases for we mourn the loss of a loved one but her body still lives and breathes.

Character Study – Havah in America

Published November 27, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Picking up a letter from his desk, Ulrich held it to his nose and breathed in the aroma of rose water. He pictured Havah sitting at the kitchen table, pen in hand, munching raisins, black waves cascading over her shoulders.

Nikolai walked to the desk, picked up the envelope and squinted. “‘Kansas City, Missouri. U.S.A.’”

“The postman delivered it yesterday afternoon.”

“What does she have to say?”

“Here, I’ll read it to you.

Friday, 29 January, 1904

Dearest Ulrich, my angel and friend,

I am hoping happiness for you. You, above all people, deserve it.

I miss hearing you play. Perhaps one day you will come here for a concert. Can you understand it, my writing?”

For a moment he stopped to study her even letters. The memory of her battle with her knife-slashed hand still pained him. No longer able to perform simple tasks such as writing or even holding a spoon, she forced her left hand, with unyielding diligence, into submission. After all of that, she still had impeccable penmanship.

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

Published (December 2015) by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

Havah Cohen Gitterman – Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Following tearful goodbyes to Ulrich and Nikolai, Arel, Havah and Arel’s family immigrated to Kansas City. Ulrich, who had already secured a teaching position at the Royal Academy of Music in London, talked Nikolai into joining him.

At the beginning of From Silt and Ashes Havah maintains her friendship with Ulrich through letters. Thanks to Arel’s income as a tailor, Arel and Havah have purchased a new house and are adapting to American life as they anticipate the birth of their first child.

Although she’s comfortable in her new home, Havah suffers from Post-Traumatic Stress and worsening physical disability. No longer an adolescent, she’s a young married woman who faces challenge after challenge with tenacity and courage.

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.

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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

27 November 2015

Published November 25, 2015 by rochellewisoff

FRIDAY FICTION CONCRIT SUBGROUP

If you want to be part of this group click the link above and follow the rules set forth by Jennifer Pendergast, the leader of this subgroup. No one is under obligation to participate. Please keep it polite and friendly.

The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. Please give credit where credit is due.

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

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Here in the States Thursday, the 26th, is Thanksgiving, a day set aside to count our blessings and remember the Pilgrims who came here in 1620 supposedly seeking religious freedom. Alas, it’s also one of those times when history has been candy coated to make it easier to swallow. So today I serve a healthy helping of my favorite subject.

Genre: Somewhat Historical Fiction

Word count: 100

KESHAGESH

“The Pilgrims stepped off the Mayflower onto Plymouth Rock,” Matthew read aloud. “Friendly Indians helped them plant corn and—”

“They should’ve been called Pillagers.” Rita fumed, snatched his paper and ripped it apart. “We’re indigenous and this is not India.”

“Mom, that’s my homework.”

She handed him another sheet of paper. “Write this, Matthew Thundercloud, not what you think your teacher wants to hear.

“They robbed graves, stole our land, enslaved us, murdered our children, forced their Christian religion upon us and gave us smallpox.”

“What if she gives me an ‘F’?”

Just smile and say, ‘Happy Turkey Day.’”

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This should explain my title:

Character Study-Gavrel and Leah Wolinsky

Published November 18, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Steam rose from the dish pan. Sweat beaded Leah’s forehead and soaked her kerchief. Gavrel’s chest ached with yearning and remorse. She deserved better. He circled his arms around her waist.

“A perfect fit.”

Turning in his embrace, she planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “Spoken like a shoemaker.”

“How else should I speak? It’s what I am. We may not be wealthy, but our children will never go barefoot in winter.”

“Remember how angry Havah was at our betrothal. She even accused Mama of selling me into slavery.”

“As I recall, you weren’t too happy about it either. After all, I am old enough to be your father.”

He surveyed their cramped apartment. With a front room that doubled as a kitchen and three cramped bedrooms, it was much too small for a family of six. Despite Leah’s efforts to keep it tidy, it was always cluttered.

“Maybe Havah was right and your mother did sell you into slavery.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” After another kiss, Leah turned back to the dishes. “I’m happy with my life.”

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

Published (December 2015) by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

Gavrel Wolinsky- Orignial Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Leah Wolinsky – Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

In Please Say Kaddish for Me Arel’s sister Tova betrothed her sixteen-year-old daughter Leah to Gavrel Wolinsky the shoemaker who was twice Leah’s age. An angry Havah accused poverty-stricken Tova of selling her daughter for a pair of shoes.

Gavrel’s first wife died of a fever during their first year of marriage leaving him a childless widower. Since Tova’s untimely passing, Gavrel has assumed the role of father for Leah’s younger siblings as well as their own daughter. Nothing makes him happier than being Papa.

In From Silt and Ashes Gavrel and Leah have moved their family to Odessa, Ukraine where another vicious pogrom looms on the horizon. As Jewish university students amass weapons to defend themselves Gavrel’s only desire is peace in his home. As this becomes increasingly difficult he saves to take his wife and children to live with their family in Kansas City.

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.

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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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Sequel!

20 November 2015

Published November 18, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The following photo is the prompt. Please remember to give credit where credit is due.

FRIDAY FICTION CONCRIT SUBGROUP

If you want to be part of this group click the link above and follow the rules set forth by Jennifer Pendergast, the leader of this subgroup.

*I’ve received both positive and negative feedback. Remember that there’s no obligation to give or receive constructive criticism nor is there an obligation to agree with crit given. I’d also like to add that no one should feel the need to dig up something to criticize simply because someone has a ‘C’ before their name. Let’s keep it polite and friendly.

PHOTO PROMPT © C.E. Ayr

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

SET ME AS A SEAL UPON YOUR HEART

Steam rose from the dish pan. Sweat beaded Leah’s forehead and soaked her kerchief. Gavrel’s chest ached with yearning and remorse. She deserved better than an old cobbler and the apartment above his shop, which was too small for two people, let alone a family of six.

“Next year in America. 1906 will be better.” He circled his arms around her waist. “Now this is a perfect fit.”

Turning in his embrace, she planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “Spoken like a shoemaker.”

“We may be poor, my young bride, but our children will never go barefoot in winter.”

****

Although not an excerpt, the story above is a scene in my novel From Silt and Ashes the sequel to Please Say Kaddish for Me.

Gavrel Wolinsky- Orignial Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Leah Wolinsky – Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

13 November 2015

Published November 11, 2015 by rochellewisoff

It is common courtesy to give credit where credit is due. The next photo in this sea of memes is the PROMPT.

PHOTO PROMPT – © J Hardy Carroll

FRIDAY FICTION CONCRIT SUBGROUP

Let’s give it a go for another week. Click on the line above to learn how to participate. For those who would rather not receive constructive criticism there’s no obligation. It’s also good to remember that concrit is the suggestions of the giver. There’s no pressure to agree. Personally I received some good suggestions last week.

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Wednesday, November 11 is Veterans Day here in the States. Thank you, Jan, for your twenty-eight years in the United States Navy. And thank you to all the men and women who have served in the military.

Genre:Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

Since I’ve agreed with another fictioneer’s concrit and changed a line, it’s been requested that I post my original post so everyone can see what I changed. I think it’s a good idea so here it is. No need to read if you don’t want to. It’s basically the same story with some minor tweaking. 😉

Here’s the original version:

WHERE THE GRAPES OF WRATH ARE STORED

“Water…somebody…please.”

Clara knelt next to the Union soldier and held a cup to his lips. The stench of defecation and decaying flesh made her stomach roil. Her back and neck ached from three nights without sleep.

“Don’t you remember me, Miss Clara?”

In her mind’s eye she saw the bright child in her long ago Texas schoolroom.

“Of course I do,” she whispered. “Save your strength, David. We’ll talk later.”

In one heart-stopping moment something ripped through her right sleeve, the cup dropped and David fell back, quivering in the agonies of death.

Clara Barton never mended the bullet hole.

***

Here’s the update:

WHERE THE GRAPES OF WRATH ARE STORED

“Water…somebody…please.”

Clara knelt next to the Union soldier and held a cup to his lips. The stench of feces and decaying flesh made her stomach roil. Her back and neck ached from three nights without sleep.

“Don’t you remember me, Miss Clara?”

At once she recognized the bright child from her long ago Texas schoolroom.

“Of course I do,” she whispered. “Save your strength, David. We’ll talk later.”

In one heart-stopping moment something ripped through her right sleeve, the cup dropped and David fell back, quivering in the agonies of death.

Clara Barton never mended the bullet hole.

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Character Study – Lafayette A. Tillman

Published November 10, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Her neighbor and the policemen filed into the living room. She (Havah) shut the door behind them. The taller officer, an imposing presence with dark skin, fascinated her. 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.

At once, his kind expression and gentle manners allayed her deepest fears. He bowed at the waist. “Please excuse our rudeness, ma’am. I’m Officer Lafayette Tillman and this is my partner, Pat Mulligan.”

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

Published by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

Original Artwork – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

As From Silt and Ashes, the sequel to Please Say Kaddish for Me, opens, Havah and Arel Gitterman have been in Kansas City for only five months. Plagued with post-traumatic stress, Havah suffers vivid nightmares of Kishinev. In this first chapter, Havah dreams she is fighting off pogromists and, in the process, screams and breaks her front window. Their next door neighbor, who is certain that Arel is beating his wife, calls the police.

One of the officers who shows up at the door is Lafayette A. Tillman, who actually lived in Kansas City.

Born in Indiana in 1859, he studied music at Oberlin College in Ohio and attended Wayland Seminary in Washington D.C. He moved to Kansas City with his wife Amy in the 1880’s where he opened a barber shop and they raised three children, Lon, Portia and Junne.

During the Spanish-American War he joined the volunteer infantry where he was appointed the rank of first lieutenant in a black regiment. When he returned, some influential white citizens who appreciated his loyalty and patriotism secured him a position on the police force.

Havah finds an unexpected ally in Officer Tillman who can’t believe what she and Arel have suffered at the hands of so-called Christians. More than once he proves himself to be a true friend to the Gitterman family.

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 – Theodore Roosevelt

Published October 31, 2015 by rochellewisoff

“Kishinev?” His smile faded. “Then you are…Jewish?”

“What if I am? This is a free country.”

“It was a travesty—a dastardly travesty.” He shook his head.

His blue eyes, moist and caring behind his spectacles, put her (Havah) at ease. She showed him the scar on her hand. Trying to recount her history in her new language proved a challenge but he seemed to understand for his gaze never wavered except to wipe away a stray tear.

When she finished he pressed his handkerchief into her hand.

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

Published by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

Although pogroms against the Jews in Eastern Europe’s Pale of Settlement were nothing new, the one that took place in Kishinev April 19-20, 1903 was the first to receive international recognition. President Theodore Roosevelt called it a “dreadful outrage upon the Jews.”

Jews in the United States put together a massive petition protesting the slaughter. Jewish leaders convinced the President to present it to Czar Nicholas II.

In an attempt to pressure the Czar for reform the petition was sent to the American chargé in St. Petersburg. He refused to accept.

In Please Say Kaddish for Me and From Silt and Ashes Havah will experience the President’s compassion firsthand.

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

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

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!

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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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For more click here.

9 October 2015

Published October 7, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. How does it make you feel? Can you make us feel it in a hundred words or less?

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Genre: Hysterical Fiction

Word Count: 100

STOP THE MERRY-GO-ROUND

“It must be fun to work in a bakery,” said a little girl, her eyes wide with amazement as she watched Elise make an icing rose.

“It can be,” replied Elise.

Twenty-two years ago it had been fun but now Elise’s hands ached and the clacking of the industrial mixer combined with the dishwasher’s racket made her head throb.

The clock ticked away her final hour of employment and she imagined herself turning cartwheels through the front door until a man with an eight-toothed grin plopped a cake down on her table and asked, “Kin I get this wrote on?”

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(I confess. My middle name is Elise).

THE END OF AN ERA