20 November 2015

Published November 18, 2015 by rochellewisoff

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

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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16 October 2015

Published October 14, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The following photo is the PROMPT. Let it speak to you, then tell us in a hundred words or less what it said.

PHOTO PROMPT -© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

NIGHT AND FOG

To escape the downpour, I duck into a musty antique shop.

“Willkomen, sir,” says the elderly shopkeeper.

I walk past her to browse the cluttered shelves. A hauntingly familiar porcelain teacup catches my eye.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” she asks.

“My sister had one just like it until we quarreled and I broke it.”

The shopkeeper’s eyes brim. “That was the day the train took my brother Helmond and me to Auschwitz. I thought he died.”

“Esther!” I gasp.

My heart pounds as her radiant smile transforms her into the mischievous child I remember. We embrace and she whispers, “Apology accepted.”

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?

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

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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?”

.

(I confess. My middle name is Elise).

THE END OF AN ERA

BEHOLD THE ~~CAKE DECORATOR~~ AUTHOR-ILLUSTRATOR

COWABUNGA!!!

18 September 2015

Published September 16, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. Does it speak to you? What does it say? Tell me in a hundred words or less.

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

PRICE OF A DREAM

At thirteen Myung Hee was three years older than the rest of my students. Despite my many scoldings, they laughed at her and called her babo.

One day I found her weeping in the schoolyard.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

“My baby brother and I escaped Kim Jong-il’s prison camp but two days later I buried him in the desert with only the stars to see. I thought South Korea would be the center of my dreams, but they lie with my brother in darkness.”

Myung Hee’s words resonated deep within me and, in that moment, the teacher became the student.

.

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.”

.

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.

That’s Life

Published September 4, 2015 by rochellewisoff

THAT’S LIFE

It isn’t often that my birthday falls on a Friday. In 1953, September 4^th also fell on Friday and I made my debut at 3:59 a.m. Perhaps that’s why I’m such an early riser.

I’ve been privileged to celebrate sixty-two birthdays, for the most part, in good health. When I was a child 62 meant Mah Jhong, rocking chairs and Geritol. But as I celebrate this, the beginning of my 63^rd year, it’s not old at all nor do I own a rocking chair. In fact 2015 has been, as Frank Sinatra sang, a very good year.

A ten-year journey has led up to this very good year, beginning with my first draft of PLEASE SAY KADDISH FOR ME and soon after that, its sequel, FROM SILT AND ASHES. Writing quickly became my passion.

Along the way, I’ve had the good fortune of having mentors who taken the time to help me hone my craft. In the midst of it, Louella Turner, the owner of High Hill Press invited me to write and publish a short story anthology. THIS, THAT AND SOMETIMES THE OTHER was released in November 2011 and features not only my short stories but my artwork as well.

Soon after that, I started a blog which, during its first year might have garnered ten views and three comments. One day as I surfed the net, I came across Madison Woods’ post with an open invitation to join a short story blog challenge called Friday Fictioneers.

How was I to know on April 12, 2012 that writing one hundred word flash fictions would become a magnificent addiction from which I do not care to recover? Nor did I know that within the inside of six months I would become the facilitator of Friday Fictioneers.

That same year, I signed a contract with my agent Jeanie Loiacono, president of Loiacono Literary Agency for my first novel.

Toward the end of January 2015, I received an email from her, saying she thought she was close to selling PSKFM and did I have FSAA ready to go? After three weeks of going over FROM SILT AND ASHES with fellow writer/editor/brutally honest friend, Douglas MacIlroy, I sent the manuscript to Jeanie.

https://ironwoodwind.wordpress.com/

March 13^th, Friday the thirteenth, if you will, I received an email from Jeanie that began, “I hope you’re sitting down…” William Connor of Argus Publishing wanted both novels!

PLEASE SAY KADDISH FOR ME, also whipped into shape with help from Doug, was released May 8, 2015. So far, I’m pleased with the responses to it.

As many know I’ve been counting the days to my retirement, slated for October 4 of this year. I’ve been looking forward to switching gears from job to career which seems to have come sooner than later after a fashion.

One morning in June I woke with a sore spot on my gum. Thinking I’d rubbed it raw with my new electric toothbrush I ignored it. After two weeks the sore had swollen and my tooth ached. I finally went to the dentist who treated it with medication which didn’t help. By the end of July I discovered a white spot which turned out to be bone poking through. The dentist referred me to an oral surgeon who told me it needed to be taken care of immediately.

The beginning of August I had the surgery which did bring considerable relief. Happily I went for my follow up appointment only to be told that I’d developed Osteomyelitis, a bone infection, in my jaw.

To quote John Lennon, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” I now find myself on six weeks short-term disability leave with a picc line in my arm and daily IV infusions of antibiotics.

It’s not nearly as horrible as it sounds and proves that blessings may come in strange disguises for I now have more time to spend with my husband Jan as well as time to pursue a dual career as author and illustrator.

In my mind I hear Old Blue Eyes singing and I smile and say, “Yes, Frank, that’s life.”

http://a-argusbooks.com/ http://www.loiaconoliteraryagency.com/ http://www.highhillpress.com/

***

Check out my author page on the Loiacono Website. Also 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

4 September 2015

Published September 2, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. Tell me in a hundred words or less what story this tells you.

Note: There were quite a few who went over 100 words last week and felt that they couldn’t cut the excess without sacrificing their stories. I challenged one writer to cut 20 words and he rose to the occasion with skill. Trust me, it can be done.

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Genre: Histrionic Fiction

Word Count: 100

SEPTEMBER 4, 1953

Warmed by the breeze wafting through the open kitchen window, Evalyne read the Kansas City Star headline.

“Florence Chadwick swam the English Channel Friday,” she said and turned from the sports page to the crossword puzzle.

“The same day as our little girl’s birth,” said Bob. “Maybe she’ll beat Miss Chadwick’s record someday.”

“One across—six-letter word for storyteller—author. One down—six-letter word for painter—artist. She might be one of those.”

The baby cried. Bob jumped up, hurried to the next room and returned with their daughter in his arms.

“The future’s wide open for our Princess Rochelle.”

.

No plans for the English Channel

Best two out of three.

***

Click to learn more about Florence Chadwick

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.

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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?”

***

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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14 August 2015

Published August 12, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The following photo is the PROMPT. Again, this is another blast from the past which, to most of you, will be a new one.

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There are some flash fictions of mine that I like better than others. This remains one of my favorites. It’s one of the first ten that I wrote when Madison was the chief cat herder. 😉 You can find the original post here.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

RENDEZVOUS

Golden arches and a drive-through replaced the baroque beacon on the hill. The French restaurant where we often met is long gone.

At our special table we shared crème brulée, class notes and anecdotes. Our careers left no room for marriage. He went his way and I went mine.

Two years later the embossed invitation came. Birth announcements and commencement notices followed me around the world.

Thirty summers passed.

When I read his wife’s obituary I wept.

***

I reminisce in McDonald’s parking lot. Someone taps my windshield.

Ink-black hair turned bone-white, Bordeaux in hand, he grins. “You saved our table.”