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

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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

REUVEN – Original Artwork ©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

HAVAH -Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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

21 October 2016

Published October 19, 2016 by rochellewisoff

ANNOUNCING GREAT NEWS!!!

Alicia Jamtaas has been published! Her short story, “A Private Death” has been included in the fall issue of “Sweet Tree Review.” Way to go Alicia!

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PHOTO PROMPT © Claire Fuller

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Genre: Anecdote

Word Count: 100

PENNY-ANTE

Sunday was “Fan Tan” night when I was eight. My family played the card game for pennies.

“Where’s that seven of hearts?” Dad tossed a copper on the table with mock disgust. “Shelly? You only have one card left?”

“The little brat’s got it,” said my fourteen-year-old brother pitching his coin.

I batted my eyelashes. “Why, Jeffrey, whatever do you mean?” With a dramatic flourish, I laid down the seven. “I win!”

It’s not the victories I remember as much as the unprecedented peace between my parents, my father’s relentless teasing, and laughing so hard I nearly wet my pants.

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14 October 2016

Published October 12, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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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

7 October 2016

Published October 5, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BORN ON THE 4^TH 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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23 September 2016

Published September 21, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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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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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 © 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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A lovely review from GAH Learner. Thank you, Gabriele!

9 September 2016

Published September 7, 2016 by rochellewisoff

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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

COMING SOON!

The Author’s Two-Step

Published September 6, 2016 by rochellewisoff

My journey continues, putting one foot in front of the other. When I began to write PLEASE SAY KADDISH FOR ME I knew I had a story to tell. I pitched it as “The Dark Side of Fiddler on the Roof.” I wrote, rewrote and edited Havah Cohen Gitterman’s story, thinking I would stop with this one book. However, the voices in my head compelled me to continue the saga with FROM SILT AND ASHES.

At a point where I thought I’d completed the first two books I began to write AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN. However, I had to stop to go back to the first book..and the second book. For five years the third book languished in an unopened Word doc. file. When I returned to my 60,000 word, unfinished manuscript, I found that my characters had grown, changed and gone in different directions than I’d originally anticipated. Not to mention that, after ten years I had also grown and changed as a writer. Perhaps 20,000 of those original 60,000 words survived the overhaul.

My agent, Jeanie Loiacono and W& B Publishing turned up the heat this summer by giving me a July deadline with the promise of a contract. Setting aside all writing time to devote to Havah, I sent Friday Fictioneers into reruns.

COMING SOON!

My story has a happy “ending.” The manuscript has been submitted and approved. Contracts with both agent and publisher are signed. Artwork for the inside of the book is complete and I await the proof copy to make any last minute edits.

Below are the divider pages for AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN to whet your appetite.

Thank You, Jeanie!

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.

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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.

26 August 2016

Published August 24, 2016 by rochellewisoff

Summer 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. It looks like there’s more work to be done, however. 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.

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The following photo is the PROMPT. This week’s retread request is from Dee Lovering 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 – Copyright – Georgia Koch

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This one’s from January 23, 2015

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

IN ISMAY’S PLACE

Logan hunched his shoulders against the icy North Atlantic wind.

“Me wee Patrick’s one tomorrow.”

“Dinnae fash yersel,” said John, the coxswain. “The morrow’ll be the cold start of May and there’ll be eight more months of 1912 to play with the boy.”

“Two points starboard, John,” said Logan from the bow as he readied the boat hook.

***

Four months later the memories of the baby they pulled from the water tormented Logan. Patrick’s cries woke him from a nightmare. He gathered the child into his arms and whispered.

“Let fly, lad. ‘Tis a hard life, but a good sign.”