Friday Fictioneers

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Guess Blogger: Friday Fictioneers

Published April 9, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Many have read my story of my Friday Fictioneers beginnings before. For those who haven’t, my thanks to Phyllis for inviting me to do a guest blog.

Phyllis Moore MythRider's avatarPhyllis Moore MythRider

Friday Fictioneer is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Field. She posts a photograph and the challenge is to write a 100 word short story.

I asked Rochelle if she’d like to give us the history of how she became involved and eventually the host of FF. Here is her story:

HERDING CATS

Six years ago, as a newly published author of a short story anthology, writing and rewriting my first novel, I didn’t have much of a direction for my blog. The few articles I posted were met with overwhelming disinterest.

One April day I noticed a Facebook post by someone named Madison Woods on the Ozarks Writers League page announcing the time had come for Friday Fictioneers. I found the title intriguing so I asked her about it.

She explained that every Wednesday she put up a photo and each participant was to insert it into…

View original post 939 more words

6 April 2018

Published April 4, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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MAKE. EVERY. WORD. COUNT.

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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

My weekly admonition to over 70 participants. Please keep your stories to 100 words or less. Thank you for your consideration. 

Note: My comments and replies will probably be a bit delayed as we are starting out on a three week road trip from Kansas City to Los Angeles and back again. Looking forward to seeing friends, relatives and cuddling granddaughters. If you are in the Las Cruces, NM area on April 7, I will be doing a book signing at Coas Books on Main Street from 1:00-3:00

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

AFTER A FASHION

Shielding her eyes with her parasol, Emma peered at the merciless summer sun. Her pantaloons and stockings clung to her legs under her petticoats and crinoline.  

            Why aren’t boys corseted with whalebone and lace?

            Her stiff collar chafed and perspiration drenched her thick hair beneath her bonnet. How she longed to strip down to her drawers like her brothers and dive into the nearby creek.

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            Denise studied a tintype she’d found in the attic. “Great-grandma Emma looks elegant, doesn’t she?”

            “Ha! Looks more like she’s ready to faint.” Penny adjusted her swimsuit. “Come on, Sis, race you to the pool.”  

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ANOTHER WORD ON THE SUBJECT

30 March 2018

Published March 28, 2018 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 © Fatima Fakier Deria

My weekly admonition to over 70 participants. Please keep your stories to 100 words or less. Thank you for your consideration. 

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

SUITABLE FOR FRAMING

            I spent my twelfth summer with my aunt and uncle in Monticello, NY.

            Uncle Harold won my heart, not just because he showered me with attention and frozen custard, but because he was an artist. While he never achieved national acclaim, he did win a few awards in local shows for his impressionistic works.

            I cherish memories of painting with him on the patio.

            “A masterpiece,” he proclaimed my robin watercolor.

            Today, as I put the finishing touches on my latest opus, I almost hear Uncle Harold say, “Good job! Let’s go for a frozen custard. Don’t tell Aunt Lu.” 

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Nothing fictitious about this story. 😉

This painting holds a special place in my office/studio.

Never heard of frozen custard? CLICK HERE

frozen-custard-buffalo--niagara-falls

I personally favored chocolate.

23 March 2018

Published March 21, 2018 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 © Björn Rudberg

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As always, please be considerate to your fellow fictioneers and keep your story to 100 words or less. This does not include the title. Thank you and Shalom. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

TURN THE PAGE

“Happy birthday!” Grandma sang out in her Kentucky drawl. “G’wan, child, open your present.”

            Heart thumping, Karen tore open the colorfully wrapped package. “I hope it’s my Cabbage Patch doll! Oh boy, it’s—” She fought tears.—“Tom Sawyer by M-mark Twain. Thank you.”

            Grandma’s eyes flashed. “Disappointed, aintcha?”

             “No, I…”Karen braced herself for a ‘when I was your age’ story.  

            “Betcha never heared o’ the Pack Horse Librarians.”

            “Huh-uh.”

            “Not many have, I reckon. In the Great Depression, them valiant ladies braved hell and high water on horseback just so’s us hill kids could have something to read.”     

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     Click Here to know more

 

16 March 2018

Published March 14, 2018 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 © Ted Strutz

get the InLinkz code

My weekly admonition to over 70 participants. Please keep your stories to 100 words or less. Thank you for your consideration. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

READY FOR MY CLOSEUP

Addie beamed. “Isn’t my little girl just the prettiest thing?”

            “Her ears are a bit large,” said Addie’s mother Bertha.

            Glory’s ruffled skirt flared as she skated along the sidewalk way ahead of the other children. Puffs of ribbon adorned her glossy hair and covered her ears.

            “You spoil her.”

            “Glory is special.” Addie shrugged.

            “She’s a daydreamer. Her marks in school are deplorable. What can the future possibly hold for such a child?”

            Not many years later, Addie Swanson once more beamed with pride when Gloria’s image graced the screens of movie theaters from one coast to the other.  

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The actress as a child

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Gloria Swanson 1899-1983

9 March 2018

Published March 7, 2018 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 © Sandra Crook

get the InLinkz code

Please be considerate of your fellow fictioneers. Keep your word count to 100 or less. Thank you. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

HOUSE OF LIFE

I was only a child in 1943, the year my world flipped upside down. The Germans arrested my father. What could my caro papà have done to make him a prime enemy of the Third Reich?

            Our neighbor, who was a nurse, took Mammina and me to Fatebenefratelli Hospital. “Dr. Borromeo will take good care of you.”  

            “But I’m not sick,” I said.

            “Anzi, bella, you are very sick with Syndrome K.” Dr. Borromeo assigned us to a room with a sign on the door that read, Altamente Contagioso  “Any time you see Wehrmacht uniforms, cough like you are dying.”

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Fatebenefratelli Hospital

2 March 2018

Published February 27, 2018 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 © J Hardy Carroll

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NOTE: Oops! Tuesday is NOT the new Wednesday. As some of you already know, I write and schedule my stories ahead. (Keeps my sanity…well…somewhat.) At any rate, I scheduled the wrong start date. At least the prompt is here…some might remember the week my page went live but the prompt didn’t show up with it. Thanks for understanding. 

Please be considerate of your fellow fictioneers and keep your word-count at 100 words or less–title not included. Thank you. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

REQUIEM FOR A HEAVYWEIGHT

“What’s your name, kid?”

            Winded from his match, the coal miner’s son took a deep breath. “Volodymyr Palahniuk.”

            His prospective manager punched Volodymyr’s stomach. “Tight as a drum. And you’re lightning in the ring, but that moniker’s gotta go. Whatcha think of……say… Jack Brazzo?”

            “I like it.”

            “Atta boy.”

            Over the next year, Jack scored 15 victories and 12 KO’s. A force to be reckoned with until Joe Baksi, another coal miner’s son, outpointed him.

            Years later Jack, who changed Brazzo to Palance and turned to theater, said, “You must be nuts to get your head beat in for $200.”

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23 February 2018

Published February 21, 2018 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 © Marie Gail Stratford

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

ABIGAIL’S ROSE

            Weary from tending her feverish child, she sank into her rocking chair. The baby, who had howled with pain most of the night, finally calmed. Abigail Adams caressed her daughter’s silky head and kissed her cool cheek.

            “Sleep, now, my sweet Suky.”

            Suky’s four-year-old sister tiptoed into the room. Abigail stopped rocking and held out a hand to her. “Can you not sleep, Nabby?”

            “I dreamt the angels plucked a rose from our garden.” Nabby patted the baby’s back. “Is she feeling better, Mother?”

            “Yes, my darling. Our rose is feeling ever so much better.”

            “Then why are you weeping?”

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Although much has been written about Abigail Adams, wife of President John Adams, I could find precious little about Grace Susanna Adams who died when she was 13 months old. As a mother, I cannot imagine the agony of losing a child that young, but, my friend and fellow fictioneer, Dale Rogerson, can for she has “been there.” 

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One of life’s happy ‘accidents’ came while following the research trail came in learning that there is a rose named Abigail Adams. Who knew? 

16 February 2018

Published February 14, 2018 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

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

get the InLinkz code

Once more I’m sharing an excerpt from an excerpt from both FROM SILT AND ASHES  and A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY. As I write, I’m making progress with the latter. Thank you for your patience and kind feedback. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

GOODBYE, HELLO 

Ulrich held Havah’s letter to his nose and breathed in the aroma of rose water. He pictured her at her table, black waves cascading over her shoulders.

His mind harked back to Rotterdam Harbor where they bid each other farewell. The taste of their stolen kiss lingered on his lips, even as Arel waited on the dock.

“How are things in America?” asked his housemate Nikolai.

Ulrich tossed him the letter. “Read for yourself.”

“They’re happy despite the cold winter. Good for them.”

“Yes indeed.” Biting his lip, Ulrich crumpled the envelope. “I’m delirous for them.” 

“Ulrich, let her go.”

 

             

 

 

9 February 2018

Published February 7, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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“Reciprocity is the glue that holds communities together.” – Neil MacDonald

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 © JS Brand

Please be respectful and keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you. 

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

FREESTYLE

            Yellow Tangs and Blue-violet perch floated before Elise, unconcerned by her presence. Sunrays beamed through the crystal ceiling, illuminating purple fan coral that swayed to and fro like dancers. Palming the water, she somersaulted and dove deeper, chasing schools of glistening fish.

            She flipped again, but before she could right herself, long tendrils of seaweed twisted around her wrists and ankles. Try and tug though she might, the plants held tight.

            With a gasp, she woke amid tangled blankets and bedsheets. “Roger Miller was right. You can’t roller-skate in a buffalo herd and you can’t go swimming in queen-size bed.”  

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