7 April 2017

Published April 5, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Jellico’s Stationhouse

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

ROAD KINGS

Arthur mopped his forehead with his sleeve while holding his bicycle’s handlebar with his opposite hand. He tried to keep up with his buddy who had been blessed with longer legs.

“Wait up, Bill!”

The other boy grinned over his shoulder. “Pedal faster, slowpoke. The fish ain’t gonna wait all day, ya know.”

Once they reached the river, the boys laid their poles beside their bicycles and raced to the bank.

Relishing the cool water, Arthur sighed. “Pedaling’s hard work. Someone oughta build a bike with a motor.”

“Who knows, Mr. Davidson?” Bill Harley splashed and sputtered. “Maybe someone will.”

*

William S. Harley

Arthur Davidson

William S. Harley and Arthur Davidson circa 1914

(L-R) My Road King, Jan Fields with Arthur’s great nephew,”Willie G” Davidson and his biker babe.

VOICE OF A SPANISH DANCER – COMING TO MY SENSES

Published April 3, 2017 by rochellewisoff

COMING TO MY SENSES

There is a scene in my second novel, FROM SILT AND ASHES, where Yussel Gitterman tells his grandchildren that the Almighty is merciful. His fifteen-year-old grandson, who has survived the violence in Eastern Europe, lashes out. “When we light candles for the dead, it will start a bonfire. How can you call that God’s mercy?”

Yussel, who is blind, answers by pressing his hand over Lev’s eyes. He then challenges the boy to see his surroundings with his ears, nose and skin.

“Tell me what you hear, Lev.”

“I hear Bayla and Evie’s giggles.”

“Anything else?”

For a moment Lev stood still, bit his lip and cocked his head. “Kreplakh’s (dog) snoring under the sofa. Tikvah’s (infant) bawling.”

“Good, Lev. Now what do you smell?”

“What do I smell?” Lev’s voice scaled up an octave with each word.

“You have a nose?”

“Sure.”

“And it works?”

“All right. All right. I smell…mm…sponge cake and apple pie. Coffee. Aunt Cate’s lavender perfume and Uncle Wolf’s nasty cigar.”

“You see, Lev, not all smells are pleasant. Not all sounds are sweet. But…we are alive. That, my son, is God’s mercy.”

YUSSEL GITTERMAN -Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Lev Resnick, Havah’s nephew-Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

For the past couple of weeks, the weather in our area has been, to say the least, wet and gloomy. Although the rain is much needed, day after day of grey skies has had me digging holes in my outlook.

Inspired by my friend, Valerie Davies’ blog https://valeriedavies.com/2017/03/26/simple-pleasures-they-may-not-be-what-you-think/ and thinking about my book’s passage, which is one of my favorites, I’ve decided to take Yussel’s challenge.

I exercise at least five days a week—sometimes less, sometimes more. More often than not, depending on the weather, I walk to the fitness center, a little over a mile away. This way I am able to do both weight bearing and aerobic exercise.

To some, swimming laps might seem like the penultimate boredom. Not to this Spanish Dancer. The gurgle and swish of the waves is music. I note the difference in watery tones as I vary my strokes and the way the water billows when I exhale. As I flip-turn like an Olympic swimmer to change directions, I’m weightless, buoyed by the current. Unlike an Olympic swimmer embroiled in a race, I take my time when I somersault and enjoy the patterns the ripples make. As I suspend for a few seconds I note the way the water blossoms overhead.

Spanish Dancer Human

Spanish Dancer Jellyfish

Once showered and dressed, I’m ready for my mile trek home.

Spring is upon us and splashes of color are everywhere—bright yellow Daffodils and Dandelions—Redbuds and Dogwoods, stunning against a Payne’s grey sky. I fill my eyes with them.

The scent of charcoal from someone’s fire the night before hangs on the breeze. Exhaust fumes and a hint of cigarette smoke taint the rain and grass scented air. I wrinkle my nose. “Not all smells are pleasant.” As I near home I breathe in the scent of hyacinths from a neighbor’s garden.

Crossing a bridge I, listen to the voice of the water as it flows over rocks. Although I don’t know one bird’s call from another, I can tell that there are several different species singing their arias. Robins, geese, crows and owls are among the few I recognize. A lawnmower starts up in the distance. A rooster crows. Two dogs bark as I pass their turf. A chainsaw grinds and a rake scrapes the sidewalk. “Not all sounds are sweet.”

I am happy to be alive.

31 March 2017

Published March 29, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria

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***

Genre: Plagiarized Poetry with Apologies to Lewis Carroll

Word Count: 100

*

WHAT’S SO FUNNY?

*

The sun shone on the Med,

Twas shining with all its might.

The sea was wet as wet can be.

Rusty-Drain and Pinky walked hand in hand,

Shuffling through quantities of violet sand.

“If only it were cleared away,” said Pinky. “Wouldn’t it be grand?”

*

“The time has come,” said red-nosed Rusty,

“To speak of many things:

Of poems—purple pygmies—and joy buzzers—

Of snake-proof boots and strings—

And why the Arkansas is boiling hot—

And whether pachyderms have wings.”

*

“O Rusty-dear,” whined Pinky, shedding bitter tears.

“We’ve had a pleasant run

“Alas, wee whoopee cushion have I none.”

*

Any questions?

RUSTY-DRAIN

Click here if you’d like to read Original Poem

PINKY

THE VIRTUES OF SIMPLICITY

Published March 26, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to Nassau, Bahamas

How I wish this trip could be made in person. A virtual trip will have to suffice for now. The photo below is my choice from the Pegman Buffet. 😉

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 K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 150

THE VIRTUES OF SIMPLICITY

“I’m tired of cartoons,” said the little girl with round eyes the color of ripe cocoa plums. “Tell me a story, Great-Grandpa.”

He clicked off the television. “Soul-destroying nonsense. Shall I tell you about Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Tell me what it was like when you were a boy in the Bahamas.”

He gathered her onto his lap. “We were so poor we didn’t have a telephone or electricity or even indoor plumbing. But we had the bluest skies at our temples and the ocean at our feet.”

“What did you do for fun?”

“I climbed trees, ate wild bananas and went swimming almost every day.”

“You were lucky! Did you ever go to the movies?”

“I didn’t even see a movie until I was twelve.”

“And now you’re a movie star like Denzel Washington.”

Sidney Poitier kissed his great-granddaughter. “Nah, I’m just an ordinary guy.”

*

Sidney Poitier in one of my favorite films, “To Sir with Love”in 1967

Sidney Poitier receives the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2009

24 March 2017

Published March 22, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

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

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Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

COLD CASE

Mystery shrouded the vacant house at the end of the block.

According to the fifteen-year-old newspaper article I found while researching for a term paper, the place belonged to a young couple. One night someone broke in and savagely gutted Mrs. Jenson in her eighth month.

I asked my parents about it.

“Mr. Jenson hung himself,” said Dad. “Pity, they never found the baby.”

Mom flinched. “Glad they’re finally tearing that eyesore down.”

Dad’s spectral smile vanished and Mom turned ice-white when I presented them with the yellowed clipping and a photo of Mrs. Jenson who could’ve been my twin.

LORD OF ALL BEASTS

Published March 20, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to Kampala, Uganda .

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.

Many thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for hosting this challenge that I can’t seem to resist.

Due to another insanely busy weekend and no extra head space, I’m a bit late for the party. This was a learning experience for me.

My prompt selection from the Pegman Buffet

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

LORD OF ALL BEASTS

Assa handed the young woman a package filled with herbs. “Put these in your tea and, in less than a year, you will hold your little one in your arms, Dembe.”

Dembe’s full lips spread into a smile and her dark cheeks shone with tears. “Thank you, I hope he will be a strong, handsome boy like yours, Mrs. Dada.”

“Call me Mzazi, for I am not longer a wife, only a mother.”

Gazing out the window, Assa watched her ten-year-old son trudge up the dusty road. His slow pace and stooped shoulders told her he was weary from a day of working in the fields. This would not be so had Andreas not cast them out, swearing the child was not his. Her anger burned white-hot.

“Jambo, Miss Dembe.” He bowed as he entered the house.

Hugging her package to her chest, Dembe nodded. “Jambo yourself, Bwana Idi Amin.”

.

17 March 2017

Published March 15, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

VANISHING ACT

I raise my head and glare at my reflection. Tears make trails through the foaming skin cleanser.

Tomorrow I’ll walk down the aisle to my faithful Pavel.

I rinse my face and blot it dry.

Time heals all wounds they say.

Pavel’s diamond sparkles next to the pinky ring Enan gave me two years ago. I slip it off and read the engraving. “ILY Forever.”

“Forever didn’t last long, did it, Enan?”

Poof!

Now you see him, now you don’t.

The bastard.

Dropping Enan’s ring down the drain I bleed afresh.

I wish I could hate him, but I don’t.

10 March 2017

Published March 8, 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 stories to 100 words. Thank you.

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME

“No, Poppa, don’t fence me-e-e-e i-i-in,” sang Ellen Cohen, her pudgy hands on her swaying hips.

Bess marveled at her seven-year-old daughter who looked at home under the bright lights. “Imagine, Phillip, our little girl at the Hippodrome.”

“Kate Smith couldn’t sing it better.” He grinned. “Today Baltimore, tomorrow Hollywood.”

After the show, anger drilled Bess when a stranger pinched Ellen’s cheek and said, “What a voice. Too bad she’s,” the woman lowered her voice, “on the zoftig side.”

The future Cass Elliot stuck out her tongue. “Someday I’m going to be the most famous fat girl in the world.”

*

Ellen Naomi Cohen aka Cass Elliot

September 19, 1941 – July 29, 1974

INTERVIEW WITH THAT ALICE LADY

Published March 6, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This month it’s my pleasure to introduce you to fellow author and OWL (Ozarks Writers League), Alice White. She has participated a few times in Friday Fictioneers. You will have to imagine her delightful mixture of British accent, Scottish brogue and expressive face. The elusive lady says she likes to keep a little mystery.

Her Bio in her own words:

I am an author from England, now living in the USA. Born to a Scottish mother and an English father in England, I began writing short stories and poetry at a very early age, progressing to novels in 2008. I did not seriously envisage publishing any of my work until migrating to the United States and marrying in 2009. On moving to Arkansas in 2011, where I now live happily with my husband, I for the first time saw the reality of publishing my work. I write Time Travel, Fantasy, Love Story, and Magical Realism. The Blue Door Trilogy and That English Lady are available for Kindle and print from Amazon. I attend a wonderful critique group, Northwest Arkansas Writers Workshop, where I have received some of the best advice and guidance I could ever have wished for, and I like to compose music, play the flute, keyboard, and violin. I love animals – especially dogs and giraffe – anything gothic, and Doctor Who. I also became a citizen of the United States, on January 17th, 2014.

I want to thank Rochelle for asking me to do this interview. I consider taking part an unparalleled honour.

What made you decide to be a writer?

I’m not sure it was entirely MY decision. I had characters shouting at me to write about them. For my first serious encounter, they came in a vivid dream back in 2008. “This will make a nice short story,” thought I… By the time it had given me one book, it was clear this was a much larger project! This dream turned into The Blue Door Trilogy. After that, characters came as they willed, begging to be written about in some shape or form. Some had to wait to become lesser characters until a more prominent one led the way.

What is your favorite genre? Why?

I love time travel. I grew up watching Doctor Who, back in England, and have been fascinated by time travel ever since. They say, “write about what you love,” and that is true in my case. I also love a nice love story, fantasy, and magical realism, and try to incorporate all of these into my book, where ever they will fit.

Who is the author who inspires you the most?

For fantasy and world-building, I go to the master, Tolkien. For time travel, I will read and watch any and ALL books, movies, documentaries, and fictional series that remotely involve the subject. The obvious choice is, of course, Doctor Who, but I’m always open to new ideas. I’m always looking for new and unique ways to transport my people, and by surrounding myself with time travel related material, am often inspired far and beyond even my own expectations, either by combining those I see and working them into a new way of inter-time transport or by coming up with something completely different.

How often do you write?

When I am in the process of writing a book, I write every day. That includes edits, layout, formatting, making my own cover, and writing music for the book trailer—which I make myself also—as well as preparing promotional posts for before and after the book is released. Once all of this is done, and beta readers get involved, I tend to give myself a little time off while they are considering their own deliberations. Once I have the finished product, including final edits from beta readers, and the book is released, I take a sabbatical from writing and concentrate a little more on promotion—while trying NOT to overdo the latter.

Do you have any major projects in the works?

I just released my fifth book, Little Bit Out Of Time, earlier this month, so am still in the thick of promoting it. Other than that, I’m waiting for the next group of characters to jump up and give me the beginnings of their story. I always like to wait for them and then allow them to drive the story forward, since I am what is known as a “Pantser,” which is to say, I fly by the seat of my pants, as opposed to planning and laying out a story before it is written. I prefer to let the stories/characters write themselves.

What are your writing goals for the future?

I would like to continue to grow as a writer. I don’t think we as writers ever stop growing, in truth. There is always something new to learn. I don’t know how many more books I have in me, that is all dependent upon those characters keeping in touch or even contacting me in the first place, but I hope there are a few more.

What advice would you give other writers?

Write what you love and also what you don’t. While sticking with what you know is comfortable and much easier, writing about those things you know little to nothing about will give you a great opportunity for research and learning about something new. Combining the two gives a great variety, and a sense of accomplishment. Read other authors.

Hone and polish your craft.

Join a critique group. There are all different kinds out there, and most everyone is able to find the one or even two that are wholly suitable for them.

Find beta readers who will provide varied, open, and honest feedback.

Attend writers’ conferences and rub elbows with fellow authors in all kinds of different stages in their writing and in their publishing process—whether self-published or traditionally.

Finally, and most importantly, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER give up!

Little Bit Out Of Time

That English Lady

The Blue Door

Beyond The Blue Door

Return To The Blue Door

SCHUHLEDER

Published March 4, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman walks through a St. Louis neighborhood.

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.

Since I chose the destination this week, I had no choice but to write a story. Right? Of course, right!

Even at 150 words…50 over my normal flashes, I found myself wishing for more. 😉 Below is my choice of prompt. It brought back some wonderful childhood memories.

Genre: Mostly Memoir-Some Fiction

Word Count: 150

SCHUHLEDER

Compared to our ranch-style house in Kansas City, George Weinberg’s two-story in St. Louis seemed a veritable palace. I looked forward to sojourns with our cousins in the early 1960’s.

Although George’s wife Carla, a German refugee, was generous and an impeccable housekeeper, her cooking left something to be desired—taste. We didn’t dare complain. Carla had survived unbelievable hardship and she meant well, but how can a person ruin hamburgers?

The summer I turned fifteen, Mom had dental surgery. Granting her request to be left alone, Dad took me to our favorite getaway for an overnight.

It was dark when he woke me. “There’s a great diner around the corner.”

Alas, Carla stood at the foot of the stairs, platter in hand. “Guten morgen!”

“Pancakes?” Dad’s stomach let out an audible whimper. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Nonsense. I should let my guests leave hungry?”

What’s the German word for ‘cowhide?’