8 February 2013

Published February 6, 2013 by rochellewisoff

HEY KIDS, WHAT TIME IS IT? IT’S FRIDAY FICTIONEERS TIME!

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

THE RULES:

Copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
MAKE SURE YOUR LINK IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION. (Should you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).Thanks to Blogspot bloggers for disabling their CAPTCHAs.
Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
REMINDER:
This page is “FRIDAY FICTIONEERS CENTRAL” and is NOT the place to promote political or religious views. Also, you are responsible for the content of your story and policing comments on your blog. You have the right to delete any you consider offensive.

**Please exercise DISCRETION when commenting on a story! Be RESPECTFUL.**

Should someone have severe or hostile differences of opinion with another person it’s my hope that the involved parties would settle their disputes in private.

***************

🙂 My story will follow the prompt for those who might be distracted by reading a story before writing their own . I enjoy your comments. 🙂

Like us on Facebook

copyright-Rich Voza

get the InLinkz code

**Genre: Speculative Fiction**

Word Count: 135

A friend who couldn’t find a use for his 35 extra words generously loaned them to me. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t allow myself to be coerced into breaking my own rules. No apologies.

FLIGHT STATUS

“Flight delayed.” Amelia snarled and closed the US Airways website. “Damn business trips!”

Memories of their argument right before Chase left gnawed at her. She regretted her spiteful words.

“I hate your job!”

“You like the money.”

“You’re never home. Your daughters don’t even know their father.”

“Next time, babe, you and the girls are coming with me.”

“What if—?”

“‘What if’ never happens.” He gathered her into his arms. “Flying’s safer than driving on the freeway.”

Five hours ago he’d texted from Phoenix. “Just a little turbulence. Nothing to worry about.”

“Mommy?” Four-year-old Katy tiptoed into the room. “Daddy sat on my bed.”

“It was only a dream, Kitten.”

“No it wasn’t. He talked to me!”

“What’d he say?”

“He’s sorry he can’t come home.”

Her phone chimed. Message from Chase.

“Dearest Amelia…”

.

BASH

TFOA

25 January 2013

Published January 23, 2013 by rochellewisoff

You’re calling from WHERE??? Sorry…wrong number!

.

LOOKING FOR FRIDAY FICTIONEERS? YOU’RE IN THE WRITE PLACE!

We are a growing community of blogging writers who come together each week from all parts of the globe to share individual flash fictions from a single photo prompt. The prompt goes up early Wednesday morning CST to give each writer time to compose a story by Friday. Some use the photo as a mere inspiration while others use it as an illustration. Use your imagination and think outside the box.

WARNING! This is an addiction for which there is no 12 step recovery program.

Like us on Facebook

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

THE RULES:

Copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
MAKE SURE YOUR LINK IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION. (Should you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).Thanks to Blogspot bloggers for disabling their CAPTCHAs.
Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
***************
THIS PAGE IS “FRIDAY FICTIONEERS CENTRAL” AND IS NOT THE PLACE TO PROMOTE POLITICAL OR RELIGIOUS VIEWS.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOUR STORY AND POLICING COMMENTS. YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO DELETE THE ONES YOU CONSIDER OFFENSIVE.

PLEASE EXERCISE DISCRETION WHEN COMMENTING ON A STORY! BE RESPECTFUL.

SHOULD SOMEONE HAVE SEVERE OR HOSTILE DIFFERENCES OF OPINION WITH ANOTHER PERSON IT’S MY HOPE THAT THE INVOLVED PARTIES WOULD TAKE IT TO EMAIL OR ANOTHER METHOD OF PRIVATE MESSAGING.

***************

This week’s PHOTO PROMPT is from Renee Heath. A pleasant picture for those of us in cold winter climates.

Copyright-Renee Homan Heath

get the InLinkz code

*Genre: Historical Fiction*

PENANCE

3 December in the year of our Lord 1765

Dearest Catherine,

It is with deep regret I write that I shan’t return to England. I cannot for I would not have you plight your troth to a murderer.

Now I must remain to make amends.

At the first the savage misliked me and I feared him. But over time we became friends. Together we laughed and fished the Seminole way.

Surely these people threaten us with war. Yet it was neither my musket nor my dagger that felled my warrior brother, but my white man’s curse—smallpox.

Penitently yours,

Jonathan

STORY REVISITED

Published January 20, 2013 by rochellewisoff

One of the things I love about writing is the process of finding my way to the finished product. At times it’s as hard as trying to bend iron with my bare hands. (Nope probably will never master that.) It’s a wrestling match with words.

May 18,2012. when I was one of the new Friday Fictioneers on the block, I wrote my 6th flash fiction, MIRACLE. I was still pretty green when it came to writing a short-short with a beginning, middle and end. Some of you may remember this picture and have your own stories to go with it.

MIRACLE

Merciless rain pelted the Conestoga’s canvas roof. Tildy’s stomach swelled and roiled with each pitch and sway.

Three-year-old Jonas whimpered in her arms. Like periwinkle marbles, his eyes rolled in aimless delirium. She almost welcomed his fevered warmth in the penetrating damp.

The wagon lurched and stopped. Smelling of horses, leather and wet denim Noel slipped through the narrow opening. In silence, his vigilant eyes on his son, he nestled under the blanket beside her.

Tildy woke to hushed sunlight. Her baby was gone.

Outside, naked as dawn, Jonas hopped and pointed at the rainbow. “Ma! Pa! Angels came!”

**************

Why rewrite?

Most of the comments were favorable and polite. But some of them have niggled at me for months:

“Dear Rochelle,

This was hard to work out and being the first to comment (I think) I don’t have the crutch of other’s opinions to help me out. When Jonas says the angels have come, was it that they’d come for anyone specific? Or just touched the earth and left their heavenly colored trails as a sign. Did Jonas’ fever break? No one died, did they?A lovely story, full of imagination and pathos. I loved the ‘Periwinkle marbles’. Great stuff.

Aloha,Doug”

And this one:

“Am I so wrong in hoping that he was actually still alive and just telling them excitedly of his fever-induced dream? My fingers are crossed.Poignant and sad.”

And another:

“I honestly thought that her baby had died (“gone”) and that he was dancing with the angels.”

By the end of the comment thread I’d recapped and explained at least five times. So to my obsessive perfectionist’s mind this is unacceptable.

****************

MIRACLE

Merciless rain pelted the Conestoga’s canvas roof. Tildy’s stomach roiled with each pitch and sway.

Three-year-old Jonas whimpered in her arms. Like periwinkle marbles, his eyes rolled in aimless delirium. She almost welcomed his fevered warmth in the penetrating damp.

The wagon lurched and stopped. Smelling of horses, leather and wet denim Noel slipped through the narrow opening. His vigilant eyes on his son, he nestled under the blanket beside her.

…….

Tildy woke to hushed sunlight and empty arms. She bolted upright and searched.

Outside, naked as dawn, Jonas skipped and pointed at a rainbow. “Ma! Pa! Angels came!”

4 January 2013

Published January 2, 2013 by rochellewisoff

HAPPY NEW YEAR and LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!!

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

If you’re looking for a good time with interesting people you’ve come to the write place. 😉

We are a growing community of blogging writers who come together each week from all parts of the globe to share individual flash fictions from a single photo prompt. The prompt goes up early Wednesday morning CST to give each writer time to compose a story by Friday. Some use the photo as a mere inspiration while others use it as an illustration. Use your imagination and think outside the box.

WARNING! This is an addiction for which there is no 12 step recovery program.

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

THE RULES:

Please copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments. PLEASE BE CERTAIN YOUR LINK IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION.
Please make sure your link works. If you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
If your blog requires multiple steps for visitors to leave comments, see if you can simplify it. Please, for the sake or our writerly nerves, disable CAPTCHA –that wavy line of unreadable letters and numbers. This mainly applies to Blogspot. It’s frustrating to have to leave a DNA sample, your blood type and your shoe size just to make a comment. (So I exaggerate. But hopefully you get the picture).
Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
*NOTE-If your link is to an advertisement or any type of platform (be it religious or political) it will be deleted. And on that note:
TALK ABOUT CHANGING HORSES IN MID-STREAM
For those of you who have a problem with labeling your story with genre for whatever reason, fret no more! While there was a good reason for it, it appears the cons far outweigh the pros. I maintain that it’s a good idea to know your genre for professional purposes. But for Friday Fictioneers purposes and my own precarious sanity we’ll let it go. PLEASE exercise discretion when commenting on someone’s story and blog. Keep the comments respectful and kind. This is not the place to promote political or religious views. If you have a severe or hostile difference of opinion with someone please take it to email or other method of private messaging.
Thank you for your patience and support as I learn to steer the bus.
***My story will follow the photo prompt for those who would rather write before reading other stories. Like everyone else, I value your comments and critiques. 😉 ***

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Atiya Townes -January 3

David Stewart -January 4

Erin Leary-January 10

(Let me know if you have a birthday this month.)

This week’s photo prompt from Lora Mitchell seems to be just the right one to launch the new year.

: Copyright – Lora Mitchell

get the InLinkz code

***Like us on Facebook***

…………………….

Genre: Historical Fiction

During China’s Song Dynasty (970 – 1260), seen as property, a woman’s sole purpose was to please her husband. Officially sanctioned, foot-binding became the essence of feminine beauty. The smaller a woman’s foot, the better her chances of marrying well. The practice continued into the 20th century until China came under Communist rule. To read more on the subject, click here.

GOLDEN LOTUS

With highly prized feet that fit a man’s palm, bones bound and crushed in childhood, Zhen Xi’s youthful beauty caught wizened warlord Han Donhai’s eye.

Every night she endured the beatings that followed his inadequacy. She feared he’d too soon discover her secret and she’d suffer the same fate as three past wives who died under his sword for failure to conceive.

Seven months after the wedding, fireworks spangled the sky in celebration of Donhai’s nine pound heir.

Hours later his blade flashed above her.

“You faithless whore!”

She smiled. Her child would live while her unbound spirit ran free.

.

21 December 2012

Published December 19, 2012 by rochellewisoff

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers. If you’re looking for an entertaining respite from malls, crowds and holiday shopping and you’re a writer, you’ve come to the right place.

We are a growing global community of blogging writers founded by Madison Woods. Each week the challenge is to write a one hundred word flash fiction or a poem inspired by the photo prompt. The rules are as follows:

Please copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
Please make sure your link works. If you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
If your blog requires multiple steps for visitors to leave comments, see if you can simplify it. Please, for the sake or our writerly nerves, disable CAPTCHA –that wavy line of unreadable letters and numbers. It’s frustrating to have to leave a DNA sample, your blood type and your shoe size just to make a comment. (So I exaggerate. But hopefully you get the picture).
Challenge yourself to keep stories to 100 words. (There’s no penalty for going over or under).
Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
Be kind in your comments to others. Please, exercise discretion.
My story follows the photo prompt for those who would rather write before reading other stories. I appreciate your comments and critiques. 😉
*NOTE-If you’re not posting a flash fiction, please DO NOT use this site or anyone else’s page for political platforms or advertisements.

This week’s photo comes from Scott Vannatter

Copyright-Scott L. Vannatter

**Like us on Facebook**

get the InLinkz code

FINAL DECLARATION

Like the anguished images that flashed across our television, Friday, November 22, 1963 will ever be etched into my memory in black and white.

Walter Cronkite wept on camera.

The nation mourned.

Dazed, Mom sorted Christmas ornaments at the kitchen table and mumbled empty phrases. Dad dropped to his knees, laid his head in her lap and sobbed.

“He was my hero!” I screamed.

My eleven-year-old world spun out and I kicked at the two faceless uniforms.

Their vacuous condolences pelted me like the bullets that killed my big brother in Vietnam.

………

I’ll never forgive Mr. Kennedy.

14 December 2012

Published December 12, 2012 by rochellewisoff

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS!

We are a growing global community of blogging writers founded by Madison Woods. Each week the challenge is to write a one hundred word flash fiction or a poem inspired by the photo prompt. The rules are as follows:

Please copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
Please make sure your link works. If you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
If your blog requires multiple steps for visitors to leave comments, see if you can simplify it. Please, for the sake or our writerly nerves, disable CAPTCHA –that wavy line of unreadable letters and numbers. It’s frustrating to have to leave a DNA sample, your blood type and your shoe size just to make a comment. (So I exaggerate. But hopefully you get the picture).
Challenge yourself to keep stories to 100 words. (There’s no penalty for going over or under).
Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
Be kind in your comments to others. Please, exercise discretion.
My story follows the photo prompt for those who would rather write before reading other stories. I appreciate your comments and critiques. 😉
*NOTE-If you’re not posting a flash fiction, please DO NOT use this site or anyone else’s page for political platforms or advertisements.

Thanks to Doug MacIlroy for sharing the photo prompt this week.

Copyright -Douglas M. MacIlroy

get the InLinkz code

Submitted for your approval…or disapproval. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Although when my husband read it this morning he reminded me that we’re out of Cheerios. Read on, you’ll understand.

Happy Hanukkah to those amongst us of the Jewish persuasion. Good Yontiff or Hag Samayakh.

UNHOLY BONDS

Somewhere between “I do” and diapers Gavin’s winsome bride turned into a nattering, self-centered shrew. Everything he said or did she took as either an affront or lack of caring.

If he brought her flowers she accused him of seeing another woman. If he made overtures she accused him of treating her like a sex object.

Eventually he gave up trying to fix their relationship and escaped to his garage sanctuary.

One afternoon Lois stood over him, their three-year-old son in tow. “I’m leaving.”

“Pick up a quart of milk.”

“For good.”

He smiled. Peace at last!

7 December 2012

Published December 5, 2012 by rochellewisoff

Welcome to FRIDAY FICTIONEERS, a growing global family of blogging writers founded by Madison Woods.

We have some December Fictioneer birthdays. I apologize if I’ve missed any. My sources are limited.

Ted Strutz-Dec. 4

Sandra Crook-Dec. 15

Kent Bonham-Dec. 21

Mary Shipman (Oldentimes)-Dec. 22

Jennifer Pendergast (elmowrites)-Dec. 31

************

The rules that follow are simple:

Please copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions.
Please make sure your link works. If you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
If your blog requires multiple steps for visitors to leave comments, see if you can simplify it. Please, for the sake or our writerly nerves, disable CAPTCHA –that wavy line of unreadable letters and numbers. It’s frustrating to have to leave a DNA sample, your blood type and your shoe size just to make a comment. (So I exaggerate. But hopefully you get the picture).
Challenge yourself to keep stories to 100 words. (There’s no penalty for going over or under).
Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
Be kind in your comments to others. Please, exercise discretion.
My story follows the photo prompt for those who would rather write before reading other stories. I appreciate your comments and critiques. 😉
*NOTE-If you’re not posting a flash fiction, please DO NOT use this site or anyone else’s page for political platforms or advertisements.

***Click here to see what others are saying about blog challenges and us.***

THIS WEEK’S PHOTO PROMPT

from Rich Voza

Copyright-Rich Voza

get the InLinkz code

Here’s my own story for this week.

PRELUDE TO SUCCESS

“Failure.”

The sterile walls echoed the word as he shuffled down the long corridor and ruminated over the loss of his day job. It was the first morning in five he’d showered or dressed.

“Why me?”

He wanted to turn back but he couldn’t renege on a promise.

Stopping at room 223, he pushed open the door and then tiptoed to the bed. Feeding tubes and IV’s snaked around the tiny girl.

His heart raged with more why’s.

“Marissa?” He caressed her chemo-bald head.

Her chocolate-brown eyes fluttered open and shone with innocent faith.

“Santa, I knew you’d come!”

****

Final Note: This story is dedicated to a couple of genuine Santas, John Schuech and Allan Buford. (Yes, the beards are real).

John Schuech

http://www.kansascity.com/2012/12/03/3947216/santa-brings-holiday-cheer-to.html

Allan Buford

*Epilogue: Months after the posting of this blog, the much commented on word, “glabrous” meaning bald still bugged me. So I’ve returned and changed the word to “chemo-bald”. I think it works better and is more understandable. So for those who might happen by and wonder at the comments, there’s the explanation.

Shalom,

Rochelle

30 November 2012

Published November 28, 2012 by rochellewisoff

Ready or not, here it comes the holiday season is upon us and I’m not at all prepared. On the upside this is my sixth week as facilitator for this wonderful group of blogging authors.

As this page goes live it’s November 28, the dawn of my 41st wedding anniversary. (No. This isn’t this week’s photo prompt 😉 )

Now that you’ve oo’d and ah’d over my vintage wedding picture here are the “rules”:

Depending on your preference, leave your blog link in the comment section or use the linkz tool (or both ;)). My story follows for those who’d rather not read it before writing their own.
Please make sure your link works. If you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
If your blog requires multiple steps for visitors to leave comments, see if you can simplify it. Please, for the sake or our writerly nerves, disable CAPTCHA –that wavy line of unreadable letters and numbers. It’s frustrating to have to leave a DNA sample, your blood type and your shoe size just to make a comment. (So I exaggerate. But hopefully you get the picture).
Challenge yourself to keep stories to 100 words. (There’s no penalty for going over or under).
Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
Be kind in your comments to others. Exercise discretion.
ABOVE ALL–HAVE FUN
Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

get the InLinkz code

Many thanks for all the well wishing on our anniversary. As always, Jan sent roses to the restaurant. I have to kvell. My husband’s an incurable romantic and hasn’t missed a November 28th in all these years.

Now without further adieu, here’s my story.

LAYAWAY

“One more cheesy rendition of Jingle Bells and I’m outta here.”

After seven hours of checking out surly customers on swollen feet Carla’s holiday spirit reached its lowest ebb. As she slammed her register drawer a burst of warm fluid soaked her pants.

An associate helped her to a pallet on the dressing room floor. Another called 911.

A hard contraction sent pain-waves through her spine. The paramedic spread her legs and shoved his hand between them.

“Ten centimeters.”

Carla pushed.

“It’s a boy!”

The overhead speakers blared with Burl Ives singing.

“Jingle bells, jingle bells. Jingle all the way…”

23 November 2012

Published November 21, 2012 by rochellewisoff

I am thankful to be a part of this awesome global family called Friday Fictioneers.

Writers:

Depending on your preference, leave your blog link in the comment section or use the linkz tool (or both ;)). My story follows for those who’d rather not read it before writing their own.
Please make sure your link works. There were a couple last week that didn’t. If you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
If your blog requires multiple steps for visitors to leave comments, see if you can simplify it. If you can disable CAPTCHA –that wavy line of unreadable letters and numbers– please for the sake of our writerly nerves, disable it. It’s frustrating to have to leave a DNA sample, your blood type and your shoe size just to make a comment. (So I exaggerate. But hopefully you get the picture).
Challenge yourself to keep stories to 100 words. (There’s no penalty for going over or under).
Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
Be kind in your comments to others.
ABOVE ALL–HAVE FUN!
Copyright-Joyce Johnson

*Note-I know some view this link tool as something of a pain, but the reality is that you’ll garner more reads and comments if you leave your link here. Click the blue guy and follow the instructions. Please make sure you’ve entered your link correctly.

get the InLinkz code

And now…

Following a wrestling match…

Is my story.

FACE TO FACE

“It was a dark and stormy night.”

“Seriously?” Tad peered over his book.

“It worked for Snoopy.” Jaycee slammed her finger against the backspace key and glared at the professor’s photo prompt. “I’m blank.”

“It’s only a hundred words. Write what you know.”

“I know nothing.”

“Ha! You’ve got plenty floating around in that pea brain of yours.”

“Like alphabet soup.”

“Stir it.”

Who knew a simple creative writing class would be filled with so many trapdoors? The sculpted face in the picture mocked her with its sideways grin.

Fingers trembling she typed, “The Me Nobody Wants to Know.”

FAMILY REUNIONS

Published November 18, 2012 by rochellewisoff

From left to right: Beth Carter, Jan Marler Morrill, Shirley McCann, Me, Madison Woods, Kent Bonham.

This weekend I attended the Ozarks Writers League, OWL for short, in Branson MO. There I had the pleasure of meeting some of our Fictioneers, including our founder Madison Woods. However I did miss Russell Gayer and Keli Wright who are both FF’rs and OWL members. (Congrats to both on being contest winners.)

Last week Ted Strutz took a trip to Hawaii and met Doug MacIlroy.

Both visits, one personal and one vicarious, thrill me. It makes me feel connected. I dream of a larger meeting one day, but for now we have the internet and shared stories.