18 September 2020

Published September 16, 2020 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BIG RASCALS

“I was a baby when Mr. Roach hired me,” says George McFarland. “They still call me Spanky.”

Ernie grins. “I was one of the first back in the days before talkies. Sunshine Sammy, that was me.”

“I was Butch. The bully in the gang.” Tommy Bond adds with a twinkle in his eye, “Guess I had the scowl for it.”

Matthew Beard strokes his bald head, looking very much like little Stymie. “We was just kids. We went to school and played together. Black or white didn’t matter. Hal Roach loved kids.”

“Great times,” says Ernie. “I’d do it again.”

***

Tommy “Butch” Bond

Ernest “Sunshine Sammy” Morrison

Matthew “Stymie” Beard

Hal Roach

*Some may remember the “Our Gang Comedy” or, as it later became known in syndication “The Little Rascals.” Some may not. For a bit of a lengthy history CLICK HERE.

Weekend Writing Prompt – Rectify

Published September 12, 2020 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s Comment Section.

This seems to be a recurring theme for me. In fourth grade my teacher nicknamed me “Messy Bessy.” My mother kept my bedroom door shut. I envy those neat-nicks who have a place for everything and everything in its place.

Is it the artist in me?

Or is it the writer?

Organization

Mission Impossible.

Try as I might I can’t line up all my ducks

They scatter in all directions

Can this situation be rectified?

11 September 2020

Published September 9, 2020 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Before continuing I have to share my happy news. My novel “Last Dance with Annie” is now under contract with literary agent Diane Nine! www.ninespeakers.com

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

COUP D’ETAT 1898

Easter and me’s both six years old. Her daddy owns a shoe shop in Wilmington. He made my Sunday shoes. He’s really nice.

Easter’s funny and she draws real good. Her skin is pretty. It’s as brown as chocolate so she don’t get sunburns like me.

Day before yesterday, Easter’s daddy went to vote in the ‘lection. Someone said white men in red shirts shot him in the street. Easter cried and cried. I cried, too.

Easter, her mama and lotsa other black folks moved away sudden like. I don’t understand why people are so mean. I miss my friend.

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A Walk in the (Virtual) Park

Published September 7, 2020 by rochellewisoff

For the most part, 2020 art fairs, concerts and festivals around town, large and small, have been cancelled. These cancellations include a few I’d planned to participate in. Heavy sigh. Potential for sales out the window.

However, 2019 wasn’t exactly a great year for us and outdoor fairs. In June, at Corks and Canvas, it took an hour to set up in intermittent rain. Happily the rain stopped. Unhappily it gave way to stifling heat and humidity, coupled by high winds. I spent a lot of time chasing my note cards across the pavement.

Corks & Canvas June 2019

In September there were two fairs. The first one was Independence Uncorked. One would think my wine glass pictures would go well there, right? Not so much. People seemed more interested in wine than art. To be fair (hee) I did fairly well at that one. The wine note cards were my best sellers.

The next September fair was the annual UNPlaza fair, not to be confused with the Plaza Art Fair held the same weekend. Torrential rains washed out our hopes for decent sales.

This year, You-Know-What washed out hopes for this year’s UNPlaza renamed PeaceWorks KC Local Art Fair. However, the wonderful board of directors at PeaceWorks decided to try something new. A virtual fair! Each artist will have an online booth. There will be video chat rooms to speak with each artist. Artists’ web pages will give attendees an opportunity to shop in the comfort of their own home.

I am excited and nervous at the prospect. Save David Bayard, who’s heading the planning, none of us really knows what to expect. At any rate, it is an opportunity for a broader audience. You don’t have to live in Kansas City to come, browse and buy. 😉

While you’re in the neighborhood click my art tab at the top of the page. Thank you.

The fair goes live Saturday and Sunday, September 26 and 27

11:00 AM – 5:00 PM

For info on how to participate

CLICK HERE!

Join other local artists and me for a new experience.

Weekend Writing Prompt – Sentient

Published September 5, 2020 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s comment section.

ARACHNOPHOBIA

Remember the animated version of Charlotte’s Web?

Who could resist Wilbur the pig,

The runt of the litter,

Sweetly voiced by Henry Gibson?

“Fine swine.”

Charlotte, a darling with eight legs,

Who sounded like Debbie Reynolds,

Spun the piglet’s praises into her web.

I wept

When she

Went to the great spiderweb in the sky

Leaving poor Wilbur to grieve.

Tender story.

However,

Should one of Charlotte’s eensy-weensy relatives

Visit me.

Whack! Splat!

I don’t care if

She was a sentient life form, Captain Janeway.

4 September 2020

Published September 2, 2020 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.

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE WOMAN WITH THE TORCH

March 1887

Dear Father,

The sun has long set on Glasgow. My eyes are weary from study and my heart is heavy with longing for you and my sisters.

My mind swirls with new knowledge of the human body. How fearfully and wonderfully made are we. My cup overflows.

Precious Father. Had it not been for your encouragement, becoming a physician would be an impossibility for a wee lass in this man’s world. As God is my witness, it shall not always be so. I promise to do my best to make you proud.

Your loving daughter,

Elsie Maude Inglis

With her many accomplishments, it was difficult to squeeze the magnitude of her influence into 100 words. So I chose a small but important piece of her life. To quote Elsie Inglis

“If I have been able to do anything—whatever I am, whatever I have done—
I owe it all to my Father.”

Dr. Elsie Inglis

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Weekend Writing Prompt – Endless

Published August 29, 2020 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s Comment Section.

Remember when we had all the time in the world?

Endless waiting.

Excitement mounting

Cake shopping.

Dress fittings.

When did time slip almost fifty years

Into the future?

28 August 2020

Published August 26, 2020 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.

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

LOST IN THE BRONX

“Oy the pain.” Jonathan Charasuchin would moan when his mother gave boarders his room, relegating him to sleep on dining room chairs.

“Quit your kvetching,” his mother would say. “We need the money.”

His sympathetic father introduced him to opera on the radio and took him to Yiddish theater productions.

The boy fell in love with the stage and dreamed of someday becoming an actor. Diligently he worked on losing his thick Bronx accent, imitating British film stars.

Forty years later, Jonathan Harris delighted Lost in Space fans with quips like “You bobble-headed booby” and “Oh the pain. The pain.”

***

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Weekend Writing Prompt – Impact

Published August 22, 2020 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s Comment Section.

Once more this prompt took me down Memory Lane. Whether deserved or not, my Aunt Edith was a legend in our house. Hers was my first experience with the death of a loved one.

L’DOR V’DOR*

When I was eight Aunt Edith passed away. My mother’s sister lived in the house behind ours.

Memories. Faded impressions. Passover seders at Grandpa’s. A gold demitasse cup she kept just for me. The prayer book I wish I’d kept. I’ve searched for it online. Out of print.

I still remember my aunt’s attempts to teach me manners. “Ladies say ‘yes’ not ‘yeah.’”

She made an impact.

*From generation to generation.

My mother is the short lady on the left. Aunt Edith is the bride. Sometime in the late 1930’s or early 1940’s.

21 August 2020

Published August 19, 2020 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.

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Genre: Speculative Fiction

Word Count: 100

VISITANT

Lucinda rocked her son. “I should go downstairs and help Marion with breakfast.

She listened to the clatter of pots and pans and hugged the baby. “How clever of your auntie to open our home to boarders when your papa didn’t return from the war.”

A nightgown-clad child with huge brown eyes stood in the doorway. “Who are you?”

“The lady of the house. Who are you?”

“Lucinda, after my great-great grandmother.”

***

Lucinda pointed to a tintype of a woman with huge dark eyes. “I met her this morning.”

“Nonsense,” said Mom. “She died in childbirth a hundred years ago.