29 March 2013

Published March 27, 2013 by rochellewisoff

TIME FOR FRIDAY FICTIONEERS! WRITE ON! FAR OUT! OUTTA SIGHT! GROOVY BABY!

A special thank you to TED STRUTZ for some nice publicity for my book.

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).
- 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.

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Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Literary Fiction

Word count: 100

Flower power, Woodstock, bell-bottom jeans and moccasins. It was the 60’s. We tuned in, turned on and dropped out.

Although the following information seems unrelated to the previous line, I include it, nonetheless. 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.

**For a “mood music” click here.**

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.

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

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**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

1 February 2013

Published January 30, 2013 by rochellewisoff

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS!

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.

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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 follows the prompt for those who might be distracted by reading a story before writing their own . I relish your comments. 🙂

Copyright-Claire Fuller

The prompt this week comes twice from Claire Fuller; both photo and artwork.

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*Genre-Literary Fiction*

PAVOR NOCTURNUS

“It takes time to recover from major surgery,” said Jill’s doctor. “Your body suffered trauma. I suspect the nightmares will stop soon.”

“Thanks…for nothing.” She slammed down the phone. “What’s it to him? He’s not the one afraid to sleep.”

“Honey, you need your rest.” Tom slipped in beside her and shut off the light.

Her attempts to stay awake failed. The bedroom faded. A two-headed monster with razor-sharp fangs in each mouth seized her shoulders. She struggled against its iron-grip.

“Jill! Wake up!”

Drenched and shivering, she opened her eyes and groaned. “Not again.”

“Yep. The twins are hungry.”

And just for fun or if you’re having trouble getting to sleep click here.

.

shhhhhhh!

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.”

16 November 2012

Published November 14, 2012 by rochellewisoff

Every Friday authors from around the world gather here to share their 100-words based on the photo prompt and offer constructive crit and encouragement to each other. This creates a wonderful opportunity for free reading of very fresh fiction! Readers are encouraged to comment as well.

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 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).

*********

HAPPY NOVEMBER BIRTHDAYS TO FICTIONEERS:

Lora Mitchell – 13

Charles Williams – 14

Madison Woods – 15

Russell Gayer – 16

(If I missed you let me know. ;))

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

THIS WEEK’S PHOTO PROMPT

: Copyright-Sean Fallon

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***********

Thanks to Sean Fallon for his intriguing photo. This particular song served as an inspiration and springboard to:

A WELL-ORDERED LIFE

Prototypical milquetoast, Benjamin Parker wore bow ties and kept to himself.

Three days of no-call, no-show to work passed before anyone missed him enough to call 911.

When we broke into his immaculate apartment we found his pajama-clad body in bed. No sign of foul play.

Jars filled with things like batteries, safety pins, wine corks and matchbooks lined cabinets and counter-tops.

“Quite the collector. Wonder if he jarred his tighty whities.” I flung open the closet door and choked. “What the—?”

In single file on the top shelf human heads floated in name-tagged gallon jars.

.

9 November 2012

Published November 7, 2012 by rochellewisoff

A Friday Fictioneers’ Welcome to

SEBASTIAN JOSHUA PENDERGAST

Born 4 November 2012

to our own Elmowrites -Jen

THAT’S SOMETHING TO WRITE ABOUT!

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

Now to the business at hand. If this is your first go at Friday Fictioneers, here’s how it works:

Every Friday authors from around the world gather here to share their 100-words and offer constructive crit and encouragement to each other. This creates a wonderful opportunity for free reading of very fresh fiction! Readers are encouraged to comment as well.

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 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).
Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

get the InLinkz code

THE ICE QUEEN

In Rowena’s thirty-eighth year the flashbacks started. One by one, memories from her childhood surfaced like debris in a whirlpool. Among them were the uncle who molested her and the neighbor who raped her then threatened her with worse if she told. Both happened before her twelfth birthday.

To punish her body for its betrayal, she starved it. Reduced to bone and thinning skin, her defense against pain became her prison.

“What are you feeling?” asked her therapist.

“Nothing.”

“Does it help?” He pointed to her scarred arms.

“No.”

“Do you really want to die, Rowena?”

“I’m already there.”

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

Click the following link for song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SWaJRlG1RQE&feature=related

EIRONEIA

Published October 11, 2012 by rochellewisoff

As I post my latest Friday Fictioneer’s story it’s Friday Eve. That’s Thursday in some parts of the world. For other stories from our growing global community click here. You’ll find a wealth of one hundred word stories inspired by this single photograph from Jan Morrill.

Summer 1969, an American sailor stationed in Greece, I went on leave to Santorini.

In Pyrgos, I met sable-eyed Melina.

We drank each other. Her fragrant breasts welcomed me home.

“Marry me,” I whispered.

“I can’t.”

After that I never saw her again.

Summer 2010, I returned to Pyrgos.

On the street I stopped a silver-haired woman. “Melina Dimitri? Do you know her?”

“Why?”

“I love her.”

“Impossible! She was my great-grandmother. Died in childbirth in 1846. Here she is with my great-grandfather.”

When the woman flipped out a daguerreotype I gasped at the youthful images of Melina and…me.

THE CHAIRMAN’S SONG

Published September 28, 2012 by rochellewisoff

The lovely picture for Friday Fictioneers this week is from talented writer Sandra Crook. Here’s my offering for this week. Also, it would please this aspiring novelist if you’d also read my previous post. Comments welcome.

Once a month twelve-year-old, American born Su-Yin spent the day with her grandmother. Before each time she groaned and protested.

“Nai-Nai doesn’t have a computer or even a TV.”

“Or one of these.” Mom snatched her daughter’s iPod.

“Communist!”

Flushed, Mom murmured something in Chinese the girl didn’t understand.

Later, Su-Yin pouted in Nai-Nai’s garden and stirred her vegetable rice with chopsticks while she waited for her monthly portion of poetry and boredom.

Instead of ancient verse, Nai-Nai whispered, “When I was your age I watched communists behead my father and murder my brother by a thousand cuts.”

EVERY. SINGLE.WORD. *YKWIM

Published September 2, 2012 by rochellewisoff

Special thanks to Doug MacIlroy for permission to share this article from his 12 October 2011 post. When I read it I thought it worth repeating. Enjoy the read.

Shalom-Aloha, Rochelle

I spend a great deal of time proofreading my posts because it is important to me to say what I mean. A long time ago when I was working on my first novel with my co-author, John Pace, we developed the habit of working on two computers (an Apple IIe and an Apple IIc. Thanks Steve and Steve.) side by side on a large desk in our office. One of us would write and the other would edit previous chapters, chiming in whenever a question came up or an idea needed to be explored. During this process, in either mode, we would often come across sentences, paragraphs or entire passages that needed to be rewritten or entirely excised. What remained following that necessary surgery was the task of saying as clearly and succinctly as possible what we wanted to convey in the first place.

Picture the two of us there, staring into space as we struggled to find the right combination and arrangement of words to replace what we’d removed. To keep our heads from exploding we took to starting the revison process by typing *YKWWM at the beginning of the blank spot. These letters stood for “You Know What We Mean.” We would laugh because, though we knew what we meant, until we wrote it correctly, the world would not know what we meant. Once we’d tackled the problem and fixed it, the removal of those six characters signified that we were happy with the changes and could move on.

Words have meanings. Every single one of them. Put them in the wrong order and you’ve thrown Mary down the stairs the ball. No matter how much we wanted it to be easy, writing was work and short cuts got us absolutely nowhere. We had to get it right. The false joy of ‘finishing’ a passage or paragraph pales in comparison to the satisfaction of getting it right. It takes just as long to write a good book as a bad one and typing ’The End’ doesn’t always mean you’re done.

With that I’d like to share a link to an article that I found very interesting. It’s about an inaccurate “quote” set, unfortunately, in stone. Here’s the link.http://www.cnn.com/2011/10/11/opinion/clark-king-monument-inscription/index.html I hope you enjoy it. The solution might be to carve in the characters, *YKWWM.

It worked for me.

For more great words from Doug go to http://ironwood.wordpress.com

WRITER’S CATHARSIS

Published August 31, 2012 by rochellewisoff

This Week’s Friday Fictioneers photo is from Stacy Plowright. Thanks to Madison Woods for opening this forum to form a global community. Who knew?

Thanks for dropping by, Rochelle.

***

“To delight the angels she dances on clouds. Heaven is illuminated by her presence.”

“Clichés.” Luke spat in the sand. “Who really dances on clouds anyway?”

His poetic words touting faith and hope did little to convince himself. He flung his notebook to the ground. Thirteen years was not enough time to love.

Even though none had fallen, he tasted rain. Vaporous whorls and ridges imprinted the blackening sky.

He waded into the churning sea. There he waited for lightning to sear him until her voice whispered on the wind.

“Stay here, my love. Our boys still need you.”