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November’s Guest Storyteller, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Published November 5, 2016 by rochellewisoff

I’m honored to be Sarah Potter’s guest storyteller this month. My story is more than 100 words and one of my favorites. 😉

Sarah Potter Writes's avatarSarah Potter Writes

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Kansas City native Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is a woman of Jewish descent and the granddaughter of Eastern European immigrants. She has a close personal connection to Jewish history, which has been a recurring theme throughout much of her writing. Growing up, she was heavily influenced by the Sholom Aleichem stories, the basis for Fiddler on the Roof. Her novels Please Say Kaddish for Me, From Silt and Ashes and As One Must, One Can were born of her desire to share the darker side of these beloved tales—the history that can be difficult to view, much less embrace.

She is also the author and illustrator of This, That and Sometimes the Other, an eclectic anthology of short stories.

Before becoming an author, Rochelle attended the Kansas City Art Institute, where she studied painting and lithography. Her preferred media are pen and ink, pencil, and watercolor. Her artwork is featured…

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4 November 2016

Published November 2, 2016 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 © Jean L. Hays

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE NIGHT AMERICA TREMBLED 

            In 1938 my dad sprang for a new RCA Victor 7K1 console.

            The radio took a prominent place in our home. President Roosevelt’s voice filled our living room. I loved Charlie McCarthy. My sister adored Bing Crosby.

            One night, putting the finishing touches on my Halloween costume, mom turned the dial. “Ramon Raquello and his orchestra.”

            I rolled my eyes. “Boring.”

            A panicked voice interrupted. “Ladies and gentlemen this is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever witnessed…”

            We cowered, believing, as many Americans did, invaders from Mars had landed. What a pity they weren’t real and didn’t devour the Reichstag.

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orson-welles-wotw

“…it was intended to be the Mercury theater’s own version of dressing up in a sheet and jumping out of a bush and saying, ‘Boo!’ Starting now we couldn’t soap all your windows and steal your garden gates by tomorrow night so we did the next best thing.” Orson Welles, October 30,1938

 

28 October 2016

Published October 26, 2016 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. 

NOTE ON THE GREAT PROMPT FIASCO: When this went up this morning (02:30 my time) the prompt did not appear. I’ve now fixed the problem and you should be seeing the prompt. For those who wrote in its absence, kudos. For those who are coming in later and can see the prompt, it is NOT OK to choose a different photo. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Peter Abbey

PHOTO PROMPT © Peter Abbey

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Four years ago, this week, Madison Woods, the creator of Friday Fictioneers turned her baby over to me. Becoming the FFF – Friday Fictioneers Facilitator is one of the best things I’ve ever done. A rousing THANK YOU to all who faithfully participate.

Shalom,

Rochelle

***

Busy-ness abounds this week. Therefore, I’m cheating. The following story isn’t exactly a story, but the opening paragraphs, as written, of the first chapter of AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN. Naturally, I hope this might whet your appetite to read the rest of the book. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BREATH AND SHADOW

Afternoon sun streamed through the tall classroom windows and cast long shadows across the dusty floor. On the chalkboard in rigid script was written, “9 October 1907, Wednesday.” Arithmetic problems in childish scrawls covered another blackboard on the opposite wall.

Behind her desk, the teacher sat with rawboned fingers clasped on top of her attendance book. Her hair was parted down the middle and pulled back from her face into a severe bun.

Under the teacher’s spectacled glare, Havah fidgeted on the hard chair. “What did my Reuven do that was so terrible?”

“He gave another boy a black eye.”

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MISS KLINE Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

MISS KLINE Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

REUVEN - Original Artwork ©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

REUVEN – Original Artwork ©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

 

 

 

 

HAVAH -Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

HAVAH -Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

 

 

 

 

the proof is in which means more editing. Release date to follow soon.

The proof is in which means more editing. Release date to follow soon.

14 October 2016

Published October 12, 2016 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 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Hysterical Faction

Word count: 100

For a few of us, Wednesday, 12 October 2016, is not only Friday Fictioneers but also Yom Kippur, the highest of Jewish holy days. For that reason, I’ve taken the liberty of rerunning the following story from April 3, 2013. A handful of  you might remember the prompt and even have a story you want to repeat. 

Click Here to see the original post.

The Ashamnu  is a traditional prayer of repentance  recited on Yom Kippur, the Jewish highest of holy days or day of atonement. The word “ah-SHAM-nu” means we are guilty or we have sinned.  

ASHAMNU

             Rhoda cast furtive glances in all directions, inhaled throat-burning smoke, held it, and then exhaled, handing the joint to Marcus.

            “Don’t be so paranoid.” His bloodshot eyes glittered.

            Candles illuminated the corners of his darkened bedroom. In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida blared from the stereo and patchouli incense tickled her nose.

            After they’d downed an entire bag of chips, Marcus plopped his yarmulke on his head.

            “So much for fasting. Let’s get back before they miss us.”

            Side-by-side they sneaked into the synagogue and giggled through repentance prayers.

            Every year afterward, when Rhoda dutifully attended services, she chuckled as she recalled the “High” Holiday.

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Original Artwork from 1971 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Original Artwork from 1971 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

7 October 2016

Published October 5, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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South KC Sky BannerThe 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

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BORN ON THE 4TH OF JULY

            “Greetings to all you boneheads in the Pacific, this is your number one enemy, your favorite playmate, Orphan Ann, with some good jive.”

            Trembling, Iva put down her script and set the needle on the record. What choice did she have? She had to eat.

            Stranded in Tokyo after a short trip to visit her aunt, she refused to renounce her US citizenship. Japanese customs repulsed her. She longed for hamburgers and Coca-Cola in her comfortable California home.  

***

            Thirty-two years, six of them in prison for treason, later, President Gerald Ford pardoned Iva Toguri D’aquino, also known as Tokyo Rose.

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iva-toguri

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23 September 2016

Published September 21, 2016 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 © Roger Bultot

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

PINOCHLE CHARLIE’S DAUGHTER

            Rose Borach’s heart sank. “Fania, don’t quit school. You’re too smart to end up like your worthless father.”

            “I won’t.” The skinny seventeen-year-old glided across the room with the grace of a ballerina. “My grades stink and I’m still in the eighth grade.” She sang, “Give my regards to Broooaddwaaay!” With an exaggerated curtsy, she kissed Rose’s cheek. “Someday you’re gonna see my name in lights.”  

            “What name? Borax? Jenny Waters? Muddy Waters?”

***

            Two years later in 1910, nineteen-year-old Fania burst through Rose’s door and flashed her newly signed contract. “Look, Ma, I’m in the Ziegfeld Follies. Me! Fanny Brice!”

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For those not familiar with this great lady of the theater, may I introduce on of my childhood heroes.

16 September 2016

Published September 14, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

WHITHER THOU GOEST

            Obed grunted and pushed but could not budge the heavy stone to grind flour.

            “You’re too small, son.”  Ruth handed him a bundle of sheaves and a mallet. “Here, thresh these for me.”

            His eyes shone like starlight reflecting off the sea. Her heart swelled with love for him leaving no room for loneliness.

            He pounded the barley kernels. “Tell me about my father.”                                     

            Obed’s face bore traces of both Mahlon and Mahlon’s Uncle Boaz, her beloved men, dead and buried. How do I explain Hebrew law regarding husbands and widows to a three-year-old?

            “To begin with, you had two.”

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FSAA Front CoverA lovely review from GAH Learner. Thank you, Gabriele!

9 September 2016

Published September 7, 2016 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. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

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I’m not sure at this stage of the game when my next novel As One Must, One Can will be released. However this prompt is perfect for the following excerpt. The operative is excerpt and, admittedly, it is not a complete story. It is set in Kansas City, Missouri in the year 1908 where Arel Gitterman makes his living as a tailor. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 99

EXCERPT FROM AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN

            Two electric fans only circulated hot air, thick with machine oil and chalk dust, in the tailor shop. Arel’s rigid collar irritated his neck and he pushed his wet hair from his forehead. His sewing machine hummed and afternoon light glinted off the bobbing needle as he guided a shirtsleeve under the presser foot. A drop of sweat rolled down his cheek and dripped onto the cuff.

            Whipping the linen shirt off the table, he hurried to wash it before the stain could set in. A wave of nausea swept over him and a sharp pain seared his chest.

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Thank you to our own GAH Learner for such a lovely review blog of PLEASE SAY KADDISH FOR ME. (Click title to read.)

Original Artwork - © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

AREL GITTERMAN – Original Artwork – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

COMING SOON!

COMING SOON!

2 September 2016

Published August 31, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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The following photo is the PROMPT. It’s a first run, never before seen by Friday Fictioneers. PLEASE…because it’s PROPER ETIQUETTE…give credit to the photographer somewhere in your post. Vijaya Sundaram this week. Thank you. 

PHOTO PROMPT -© Vijayay Sundaram

PHOTO PROMPT -© Vijaya Sundaram

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Genre: Poetic Justice

Word Count: 100

THIS ONE IS MINE

 

Enan’s grandiloquent notes set off explosions in my heart. I kept every embellished missive in a gilded box. His purple prose enslaved me.

After every beating or tongue lashing, he would gift me with an impassioned written apology and weep until I absolved him of his guilt.

One day he left our cottage whilst I slept. A card on the nightstand, penned in his sweeping hand simply said, “Goodbye.”

***

I wanted to search for him—beg him to come back. Instead, a fountain of sparks illumes the black sky. His words scatter amid the ashes and my spirit soars.

19 August 2016

Published August 17, 2016 by rochellewisoff

Summer ShowcaseSummer is the time for vacations, picnics on the beach and reruns on the telly. I’m happy to announce that I made my July deadline for my third novel in my series entitled AS ONE MUST ONE CAN. I’m waiting to hear back from my agent. Many thanks to those of you who responded to my plea for your favorite reruns. Look for new prompts the beginning of September as I’ve received quite a few new ones this summer. Friday Fictioneers and Poppy

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The following photo is the PROMPT. This week’s retread request is from C.E.Ayr If you’re one of those who wrote a story for this prompt feel free to re-post it and enjoy the respite. Remember that all photos are private property and subject to copyright. Use other than Friday Fictioneers by permission only. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Janet Webb

PHOTO PROMPT © Janet Webb

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This story and prompt were originally posted the week of 19 April 2013.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

SUFFER THE LITTLE CHILDREN

When little more than a babe, I happened upon a nest of hornets in the churchyard. After a sennight of swelling, fever and Mother’s prayers, I was recovered.  

 “This child’s destiny from Almighty God is fraught with purpose,” cried Elder Martin. 

As I grew to womanhood, nothing more was said of my destiny. 

A fortnight ago I strolled with Elizabeth Martin and tripped upon another hornet’s nest. She perished from their relentless stings. Only a tiny welt arose upon my hand. 

Red-hot flames sear my ankles. I scream and plead for mercy whilst Elder Martin shouts.

“Witch! Behold thy destiny!”

—————-

 *Sennight-Old English word for a space of seven nights and days. 

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/brief-salem.html

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