29 December 2017

Published December 27, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Our Mantra

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 © Ted Strutz

get the InLinkz code

The following is an edited version of a poem I wrote in the 90’s while battling severe depression and anorexia nervosa which is about control. I thought I was in control but, almost too late, realized the demon was controlling me. To sort through my confusion I wrote poetry as a means of journaling. Happily, this is no longer my reality, but at the time…

Genre: Adverse Verse

Word Count: 100

VICIOUS CYCLE

Knotted cords surround my thoughts

Like twine that binds a package;

Profusion of convolution, confusion

No solution

Seeking resolution, absolution.

I’m choking

On the dry bread of shame.

And I’m left no choice

But to savagely purge myself.

Cathartic poison,

Painful comfort.

I run a perilous race

To a fatal finish line.

Lethal, venomous humiliation besieges me.

The sins of the forefathers,

Cousins, babysitters and uncles

Devour and bury.

The demon lures and captures me

In his serpentine embrace.

Too weary to resist seduction,

I relinquish and surrender.

Profusion of convolution, confusion

No solution

Seeking resolution, absolution

To what conclusion?

22 December 2017

Published December 20, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Like us on Facebook

Our Mantra

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 © Björn Rudberg

Please be respectful of your fellow writers/readers and keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you.

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE MANLY ART OF GIVING

The bars clanked behind me. My pulse thudded in my ears.

My first interviewee, a hulk you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley, put me at ease.

“It gives ya peace of mind.” DeShawn looped pink yarn around his sausage-sized fingers. “This gonna be a blanket for my niece.”

Several tough-looking inmates proudly showed off scarves and hats they’d made for inner city kids for Christmas.

“It don’t change what we done, but I hope it makes up for some of the hurt we caused.” DeShawn’s ebony eyes gleamed. “Every strong man has a pair of knitting needles.”

For a little more CLICK HERE

LIGHT ONE CANDLE

Published December 13, 2017 by rochellewisoff

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

I couldn’t resist. Since my initial story is more of a discussion than a story, I thought I’d take the liberty of posting a second piece. And since it’s Hanukkah, the Jewish festival of lights I’ve edited a snippet from PLEASE SAY KADDISH FOR ME, my debut novel. In the scene, the Abromovich children tell the story of Hanukkah (sort of ) for their gentile guest.

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

LIGHT ONE CANDLE

Twelve-year-old Zelig, the quintessential scholar, pointed to each Hebrew letter on the dreidel. “They stand for ‘A great miracle happened there,’ Professor Dietrich.”

As Zelig’s younger sisters, Ruth and Rukhel, set the table, they fluttered around it chirping like excited pigeons. Ulrich could hardly tell where one left off and the other began. Even their voices were identical.

“Hanukkah is all about the Macaroons’ victory over their enemies in ancient days…It was a miracle…The oil in the temple menorah burned for eight whole days…That’s why we light the candles for eight nights.”

Zelig rolled his eyes. “It’s Maccabees not macaroons!”

Click to hear Mayim Bialik shed light on the holiday.

Ulrich Dietrich © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The Abromovich Children: B. Ruth, Rukhel, Front, left to right: Zelig, Velvil, Tuli
© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

This is a dreidle I’ve had in my possession since I was four years old. Cheap plastic, but precious to me. The game of dreidle is one of the staples of Hanukkah. Each letter dictates whether or not the player takes a penny from the pot,tosses one in or takes them all.

15 December 2017

Published December 13, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Like us on Facebook

Our Mantra

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 © Sandra Crook

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Realistic Friction

Word Count: 100

HONESTLY

Today my muse has taken a break, leaving my brain to slosh about my skull. Ideas float in bubbles and pop into nothingness, with no beginning, middle or end.

So, I’ll share a bit of nonfiction.

April 12, 2012 I joined Friday Fictioneers. Straightaway I became addicted in 100 words or less. Months later, Madison, FF creator, appointed me to be her successor as leader of this global community.

I enjoy our various cultures and would love to comment on each and every story. With life’s busy-ness, am I wrong or unreasonable to only do so with those who reciprocate?

8 December 2017

Published December 6, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Like us on Facebook

Our Mantra

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

Please be respectful of your readers and keep your story to 100 words or less.

get the InLinkz code

What if the Capulets and Montagues had reconciled? Methinks things might have gone differently for the star-crossed lovers who, to be fair, barely knew each other. My humblest apologies to the Bard.

Genre: Histrionic Fiction

Word Count: 100

WHAT FREEZINGS I HAVE FELT

“Aye me, what weariness besets me. This unborn babe hath thrice disturb’d my slumber. Now light through yonder kitchen window breaks and childish voices assail. No rest. No rest. Anon himself hops through my door, his teeth bared. Is my Romeo ill of health?”

“Juliette, canst thou not sweep? A child’s plaything hath dug deep into my sole.”

“Canst thou not bend thy leaden arse to retrieve it? Where is he who scaled to my bedchamber pledging his undying love?”

“Alack. Better my life had ended with poison.”

“Oh churl! Better I had run myself through with thy happy dagger.”

*******

And because I can…Announcing my new granddaughter

Elsie Lola Feraday-Fields

Born Sunday, 12 November 2017

1 December 2017

Published November 29, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Like us on Facebook

Our Mantra

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.

As you can see, we’re jumping on the Black and White Bandwagon of late. 😉

PHOTO PROMPT © What’s His Name

get the InLinkz code

Ladies and Gentlemen, the story you’re about to read is true…

Genre: Anecdote

Word Count: 100

GOING CONCERN

Proverbs 22:6 admonishes parents to “train up a child…”

No one bears the weight of it more than mothers of sons graduating from diapers to Underoos. I was convinced when one of mine said, “I do” at the altar, he would.

Toilet training was often touch-and-no-go. Number One-of-Three loved to show me his creations, real or imagined. Once he brought me the empty chair insert and chortled. “Potty, Mommy.”

“In a pig’s eye,” I muttered.

From then on, whenever he made a deposit he’d bring it to me and say, “Pig’s eyes.”

Oh be careful little lips what you say.

24 November 2017

Published November 22, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Like us on Facebook

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

Please be respectful of your fellow writer/readers and keep your story to 100 words. Thank you.

get the InLinkz code

Wrote a longer piece? Don’t think you can cut it back? The following excerpt from my second novel FROM SILT AND ASHES turned flash fiction was originally 308 words long. Obviously that would go way over the word limit. So, first I had to decide what I want to say in 100 words. Once I decided, I tweaked some of the sentences to fit and lost four other characters in the chapter. 😉 Naturally it’s my hope that this will whet your appetite to read the longer version, ie the book and, perhaps the trilogy. I thank you. Havah thanks you. 😀

Genre: Historical Fiction (circa 1905)

Word Count: 100

A GIRL’S BEST FRIEND

A pile of torn paper remained on the floor where Rachel had been playing. Havah’s anxiety mounted. She only turned her head for a moment.

What if her blind toddler meandered out into the path of an oncoming automobile?

Kreplakh cocked her head, barked and scampered around Havah’s feet.

“You fell down on the job, you stupid mutt. Rachel! Rachel!”

Kreplakh ran to the closet and scratched at the door.

“You want in there?” Havah yanked it open and sank to her weakened knees.

There in the laundry basket, amid petticoats and linens, thumb in mouth, slept little lost Rachel.

Rachel Esther Gitterman

Kreplakh, self appointed service dog

Mrs. Havah Gitterman

Book II of Havah’s Trilogy

17 November 2017

Published November 15, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Like us on Facebook

Our Mantra

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 keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you.

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

LAST RITES

Grandma Tollard met Jeannie at the front door, her long grey hair askew. She seized Jeannie’s arm with one bony hand. “Thank you for coming, dear.”

“What happened?”

“I…we, that is…he…he had a heart attack and—”

“Did you call 911?”

“—he’s dead. I called Fr. Jenson.”

Grandma clutched her lace peignoir robe at the neck and led Jeannie to the bedroom. Biting her quivering lip, Jeannie pulled the sheet over her grandfather’s grinning countenance.

She wrapped a comforting arm around her weeping grandmother.

Grandma sniffed. “I’ll never forget his final words to me.”

“What were they?”

“‘Hi-ho Silver!’”

Many thanks to my BFF Jeannie O’Hare for her generosity in allowing me to share her strange but true family stories. Some things just can’t be made up…but they can be embellished.

Jeannie and me

To hear my interview on Impact USA radio last week CLICK HERE

A Lovely Interview

Published November 14, 2017 by rochellewisoff

I will make this blog short and, hopefully, sweet.

Last week I had the unexpected pleasure of interviewing with Dr. Paul Reeves on Impact USA out of Detroit. Click on his name under the photo to learn more.

I say unexpected because it all came about quickly and seemingly out of nowhere.

Dr. Paul Reeves

I was chatting in a Facebook private message with friend Caroline Giammanco , author of “The Boonie Hat Bandit” and “Guilty Hearts” who asked if I would be interested in doing an interview. If so she could get me in touch with Deborah Ratliff who gathers info for Dr. Paul. (Are you with me?) I emailed my particulars to Deborah and within hours I received an email from Dr. Paul. I’ll stop there since my head’s spinning just writing it.

Here I am with Caroline in Chicago May before last.

Without further adieu, here’s the interview if you have 30 minutes to spare. For those of you in Friday Fictioneers, you’ll note that the subject came up more than once. Perhaps we’ll see Dr. Paul in our midst as a Fictioneer in the not too distant future.

10 November 2017

Published November 8, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Like us on Facebook

Our Mantra

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 respectful to your readers and keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you.

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

FOR THE DEAD AND THE LIVING, WE MUST BEAR WITNESS *

I remember it like it was yesterday—November 9, 1963 in Chicago, my father took me downtown to celebrate my 10^th birthday.

His German accent sounded like music. “Vhere shall ve go, schatzi?”

“The Art Institute.”

I skipped along the sidewalk, holding his hand. He stopped and went to his knees in front of a synagogue. Slipping off his hat, he covered his face. The sun limned his blond waves.

“What’s wrong, Vati?”

“Meine Schande. Those magnificent windows—shattered! 25 years ago today. Schweinehund! Jewish businesses—destroyed! What did I do? Die Nill! I—I stood by and did nothing.”

*Quote from Elie Wiesel