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

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

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

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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Click to learn more

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?”

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(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.

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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.

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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.”

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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.