Meet the Creator of Friday Fictioneers

Published May 29, 2020 by rochellewisoff

Once upon a time, eight years ago to be exact, I was a fledgling author with a newly published short story anthology. I’d recently started a blog and occasionally received more than two comments on my posts! Sigh.

One April Wednesday morning in 2012 as I scrolled through my Facebook feed I saw a notice on the Ozarks Writers League, OWL, page from someone named Madison Woods. It was a reminder that it was time for Friday Fictioneers, a weekly blog challenge that would change the course of my life.

I was hooked from the first prompt.

My first photo prompt, April 12, 2012

(I had a lot to learn about commenting and reciprocation 😉 )

Who knew that six months later I’d be adopting Madison’s baby? Enough of that! The purpose of this post is to introduce you to the lady, author and artist who birthed the idea of Friday Fictioneers.

Original Artwork © Madison Woods

CLICK HERE TO READ A RECENT INTERVIEW WITH MADISON.

29 May 2020

Published May 27, 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 © David Stewart

Click the Frog…you know you want to.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

AUTUMN FRAGRANCE

“How are you, GI Joe?”

Even though we listened to her every day, nobody took her seriously.

“They have forgotten about you back home. Your sacrifice means nothing to your people.”

Let her spout her bullshit, we looked forward to the music from home.

“Your great nation has abandoned you.”

After months of being shot at by the VC and suffering jungle rot, my orders came. I was headed for home!

At Travis I was met not with ticker tape and hurrahs, but with protesters screaming, “Get back on the plane, baby killer!”

Hanoi Hannah was onto something, after all.

***

Click for more info.

22 May 2020

Published May 20, 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

Come on along and click the dancing frog to join the fun!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE LEADER OF THE BAND

Cossacks torched the shtetl of Tolochin. Flames shot up from Cantor Beilin’s home. Five-year-old Israel choked on the billowing smoke, huddled in a ditch with his brother and sisters. He had never seen Papa weep so.

A ship carried the Beilins to America. In New York’s Lower Eastside, Izzy discovered his talent and at thirteen sang on the streets for thrown pennies.

Music and America. His love for both welled up inside of him and spilled over in the songs he wrote.

Composer Jerome Kern said of Izzy, “Irving Berlin has no place in American music—he is American Music.”

***

Born in 1888, Irving Berlin lived to be 101. Trying en-capsulize him in 100 words is no easy task. While you might not be familiar with name, I’ll bet you’re familiar with his music. “Alexander’s Ragtime Band” (Scandalous in 1911), “Easter Parade,” “Puttin’ on the Ritz,” “God Bless America,” and that seasonal favorite “White Christmas” to name a few.

Irving Berlin 1906

15 May 2020

Published May 13, 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 © Jan Wayne Fields

Click the Frog to Join the Party

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

TROPICAL VACATION

As a journalist, I’ve looked forward to my assignment in the island paradise of Tonga—interview deportees.

Uhila sets aside his machete. Sun through the palm trees beats down on his bare back littered with tattoos. “My dad was God. I couldn’t fight God, so I fought everyone else.”

Taking notes, I ache for the hurting child inside the man until he says, “I shot a guy for looking at me wrong—four times in the stomach. Now I’m the trash California State threw away.” He mops his brow with his forearm. “Here I don’t know shit about nothing.”

8 May 2020

Published May 6, 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 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

GO AHEAD…CLICK ME!

The following story is a work of fiction. Sadly, it’s based on fact for too many people.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

DRIVING THE BUS

Amy brushed, flossed and swished Listerine around her mouth. Spitting it out, she watched the blue liquid swirl down the drain. She raised her head, stared at her reflection, baring her teeth. “Minty fresh. I really gotta stop this ralphing crap.”

She took a mental inventory of everything she’d eaten. Basically, she cleaned out the fridge. Twinkies, two toaster waffles, a banana, a cheese ball, three hardboiled eggs and so on.

She’d gotten the idea of taking Ipecac from a recovering bulimic’s book, meant to be a testimony of her victory over her eating disorder.

“Handy little ‘how-to’ manual, eh?”

*Glossary:

Ralph is slang for vomit. Driving he Bus is slang for the same.

Ipecac is a substance used to induce vomiting. Parents of small children keep it in the medicine cabinet in case of accidental poisoning. I had to use it once when my son was two.

Listerine, for those unfamiliar, is a brand of mouthwash popular in the States.

1 May 2020

Published April 29, 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 © Dale Rogerson

Genre: Romance

Word Count: 100

JILTED AND SCORNED

The four-tiered cake, a culinary masterpiece dripping with elegant flowers graced the table—untouched.

Gretchen stared out the window. “It’s not supposed to be like this.”

What happened to Jared? Why would he abandon her?

Outside a man banged on the door. Dripping hair hung in his dirty face.

Perfect ending to a perfectly horrid day. Damned vagrant.

“Go away!” She hollered.

“Gretchen, please.”

Her stomach flipflopped. He stumbled through the doorway, spattering her Gucci gown.

“Engine blew—” he sputtered between muddy kisses “—nearly drowned—hiked from—Good God, I love you.”

“Shut up and marry me now.”

*

Thanks to Dale for permission to render her beautiful photo. Prints and note cards available. 😉

***

Not four tiered but one of my favorite cakes from my decorating days.

24 April 2020

Published April 22, 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 © C.E.Ayr

Yeah, I know, the frog’s not blue and the following story is a rerun (the story, not the photo) from March 2013. Hard to believe as of this month, I’ve been writing Friday Fictioneers stories for 8 years. Many writers have come and gone since then, but still there remains a handful of us die-hard FF’rs. Thanks for participating one and all.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

PACK RAT

Boxes overflowing with rusted ten-penny nails, camping equipment and car parts cluttered the garage. Judith hated the chaos, but other things got in the way of Greg’s promise to organize until the day he deserted her.

It took months to sort through the cardboard jungle.

Then she came across a crate with “Judith” painted on the lid. In it she found her class ring, his first speeding ticket and a bottle of cognac—same vintage they’d shared on their honeymoon.

A note in his uneven scrawl read,

“Damned cancer. Wish I were there to toast forty of my happiest years.”

17 April 2020

Published April 15, 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.

Click the Frog to Play Along!

Word Count: 100

Genre: Historical Fiction

I told myself I was going to give Historical Fiction a rest, but this story found me and begged to be shared. For those across the sea, let me introduce you to an American icon. (she should be)

AFTER A FASHION

The sun rose on New York’s horizon, Lena’s adopted city since immigrating from Lithuania in 1895, as a 16-year-old orphan. The baby on her soaking hip crammed his fist into his mouth and whimpered.

“Oy. My little pisher needs his vikileh changed.”

Once the deed was done she sat at her sewing machine, sleeping infant on her lap. She yawned. “No rest for weary Widow Bryant. Miss Feingold needs her wedding dress.”

Four years later, Lena opened her own shop. Thanks to the bank’s misspell on her loan, we now remember the designer of fashionable plus-size dresses as Lane Bryant.

Pisher is a Yiddish word for someone who can’t keep his drawers dry. Vikeleh is diaper or nappie depending on which side of the pond you’re on. 😉

*

10 April 2020

Published April 8, 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.

CLICK ME! PLEASE!

Thanks to my husband Jan who found an article about the following event. As soon as he shared the article I knew what my story would be. Just in time for Passover. Matzo and sweet wine for everyone.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

WHY IS THIS NIGHT DIFFERENT FROM ALL OTHER NIGHTS?

PFC Nachman Levy recited the four questions for the hastily-organized Passover seder. At nineteen, he was the youngest in the “Rainbow Division” so the task fell to him.

“We’ve taken Dahn from the Third Reich.” Wearing his tallis over his fatigues and a twinkle in his eye, infantry rabbi Captain Bohnen led the ceremony reading from the hagaddah. “This is the first Jewish publication in Germany in seven years.” He brandished a crumpled ink-stained Nazi flag. “We put this to good use—cleaning the printing press.”

1,500 Jewish-American soldiers cheered.

Nachman’s pulse raced. He raised his cup and shouted. “L’chaim!”

The Haggadah begins with a message from Major General Collins: “My Jewish Soldiers– The celebration of Passover should have unusual significance for you at this time, for like your ancestors of old you too are now engaged in a battle against a modern Pharaoh. This Pharaoh has sought, not only to enslave your people, but to make slaves of the whole world.”

General Collins also told attendees, “I am sure this Passover will live in your memories forever. You celebrate it in Germany, the land in which Hitler said no Passover would be celebrated for at least a thousand years.”

Rainbow Division Insignia

3 April 2020

Published April 1, 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.

Click the Frogs to join the fun!

Genre: Hysterical Faction

Word Count: 100

HASHTAG-GIMME-A-BREAK

Ah those befuddled moments between waking and the first swallow of coffee. Anything’s possible, isn’t it? Or so it seemed this morning when I turned on my iPad to find Keanu Reeves followed me on Twitter. Fame had found me. I followed him back.

A few minutes later, I received his private message. “Good day, beautiful, your face looks so familiar. Are you an actress?”

Puh-lease. I was born on a day, but not yesterday.

I went to his page @John_wink. Wink?

Hard to believe a star of Keanu’s ilk only had twenty-seven followers.

Unfollow. Block. Report spam. Bye-bye fame.