Tag Archives: Relationships

Picture Massacre

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Picture Massacre

The whole family together; that’s what I’ll do. Put all these pictures into a leather-bound album. I need to sort them; uncles, aunts and the great-great somebodies or another? My brother’s family pictures have survived as has one of Uncle Bert in uniform.  I am not sure how old my mother was then, but the boy on the tractor, well that’s me with Baxter my collie. Oh, here’s Auntie Rose with a Derringer tucked into her fishnets. Was that real?
‘Why us?’
‘Family memories?’ said the nurse.
‘Yea, that’s all I have left.’
‘Okay, we need to change those bandages.’

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Fantastic Book Review

One of our wonderful Friday Fictioneer supporters has read my book; thank you.

I am delighted Laurie Bell read my novel Missing and wrote a concise and honest review.

Read her thoughts on her site. Rambles, writing and amusing musings

My inspiration for the novel came after meeting relatives at recent funerals. We knew of each other but have never kept in touch, in one case I made the presumption that two people were my cousins. We had started school together and played games on their farm. We were the same age, and I assumed at the time they were my cousins. I called their father, uncle. It was only recently that I learned they were my father’s cousins.

With family secrets and misinformation, I developed the novel. It is a collection of snippets of real events each balanced on the premise of something missing. On the surface, the main character Laura is missing her mother, but underneath every other person in the book is missing an important aspect of their lives.

I believe the revelation in the novel asks the questions;
Who suppresses the family secrets in your lives?
Would you want to know?

The Honey-Trap

Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

The Honey-trap

Anya was naked and walked past.
I stopped reading.
(Mrs Newsome wanted Strether to rescue Chadwick from a wicked woman.)
I was dressed when Anya emerged from the bathroom.
‘Ready?’ She adjusted her blouse.
In East-Berlin, we had met in a provocative gaze across a crowded room.
‘Will he be alone?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘My flight is tonight.’
Col Kryuchkov met us at Marx’s Tomb in Highgate, and I gave him the USB memory.
‘I love you.’ I kissed Anya. ‘Goodbye.’
The encrypted files were bogus lists of double agents.
Another time, they may return to poison me.

Beryl my Zombie Girlfriend

Friday Fictioneers.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Beryl my Zombie Girlfriend.

Meet me in the scary café, she had said. Her favourite place.
I was on my second, deep black death coffee, it was delicious and tasted like reconstituted tar. Where was she?
Yea, what a fun place.
Try the putrid burgers, the dried blood is to die for, she had said. Don’t mind the wiggly maggots, they taste sweet with the  sauce.
Where is she?
People are staring, I fill with a desire to hug them, and stroke their soft necks.
My new overwhelming compulsive urge.
Beryl promised to teach me.
Being alive and dead is awesome, she had said.

Huntress in Suburbia

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

Huntress in Suburbia

It always happens to me. Melissa kicked a bucket.
Ouch, it was full of sand. Had she broken her toe?
More rain to come, so the welcome BBQ was off. What will they think?
She had escaped squatting in a squalid basement flat, and after they took her baby, Ellen, away, inside she died. Her pimp, a weak drug dealing scum, had a fortune stashed beneath the floorboards. She put a mickey in his vein and left him to rot.
She bought into suburbia – clean and with a teaching job –an ambitious single woman out to trap a rich husband.

American Dream

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Rockefeller Center.

Where do I start with this week’s prompt? There is a lot going on in the picture, from the tall skyscraper in the background, the ‘See No Evil’ statue, the food stall and to our security guard having a rest in the evening heat.
My mind wandered over this for ages struggling to find a central focus and I kept returning to thoughts of loneliness during a night shift. But what of the people who inhabit this civilised affluent world?

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

The American Dream

‘How’s Li Ying doing?’
‘Chai, no sugar?’ said Mo Chou. ‘Li Ying, So proud, she in Medical College now.’
‘Ah Mo, your tea’s the best,’ said Tyler.
‘And your Alexis?’ Mo passed the drink. ‘You want, pretzel?’
‘She’s her dream job down Broad Street with Sullivan’s.’ He pushed his hat back. ‘And yea, her fancy shoes cost my Walmart check.’
‘You want butter or maple?’ Mo dribbled the syrup. ‘Li Ying soon be a doctor.’
‘Ah Mo, we’ve done well.’ He pointed his pretzel at the statue. ‘Our kids, them “see no evil”, but we know Mo. Yea we know.’

Gift me a Paperback – not an eBook.

Is the paper book old fashioned or does it feel warm and comfortable?

MISSING – A mystery of family bonds, love, lies, deception, and jealousy.

I enjoyed the process of writing my first novel and have developed a thicker skin after editing and working with my kind and strict copy/proof reader.

What I didn’t expect was the following e-mails and Facebook comments from two readers, both were delighted and entertained. They said:

Hi James,
I’ve finished your book. You have a gift for story telling; I only half guessed the ending. So, a surprising and sad ending, just like a lot of things in life; sins of the fathers, springs to mind.
Best Wishes
Theresa.
 
Hi Jim, I have read your book and I really enjoyed it. You were right it did bring a tear to my eye. Hope you are well, and I will look forward to the next book 😃
Chris.

So far, after one month, the paperback book is more popular than the eBook.

Is the paper book old fashioned or does it feel warm and comfortable?

The reason I was given from a nice lady, who bought a copy after my talk in a book shop, was:

She likes the feel of a book rather than straining her eyes with an iPad. Besides, you can cuddle up to the book, and it looks good on the shelf long afterwards. Some books you want to keep, others you give away.
 
These are the kind remarks from people that make writing so worthwhile.

Is she coming?

Friday Fictioneers by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Is she coming?

Wait by the plugs, she had said.
Where is she? My stomach tightened, and I strode around the display.
I looked at the tickets; the train leaves in ten minutes.
Her father; did she tell him?
We booked Gretna Green for tomorrow morning.
I saw her and picked up my bag.
‘Come on Aileen, let’s go.’ I took her arm. ‘Where’s your suitcase?’
‘John!’ She stood and squeezed my hand. ‘I can’t.’
Regret rippled down my spine.
‘There is no baby, and my –’ Her eyes were tearful.
A splinter of shame split my heart in two.


Why run away to Gretna Green?

Beneath Your Skin by Rose Banks

The short story, Beneath Your Skin by Rose banks on Literally Stories really got under my skin.

I found it a contender worthy of a tale from the darkside. A believable but unreliable narrator takes you through their unstable relationship with her husband, a drunkard and liar. A man who comes up with a ridiculous lie that she does not believe, but somehow it warps her mind as she tries to understand the man she once loved.

Beneath Your Skin

Independence Day Parade

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Independence Day Parade

‘Marcel are you coming.’
‘No, not until I get nuggets.’
‘Get out from under the table. Do you want to see the parade?’
‘Yes, but I want nuggets.’
‘Don’t spoil the holiday, son. We’re going now. Bye.’
‘Wait! I want turkey nuggets.’
‘Mom’s already gone to watch the parade. Now come or stay.’
‘Can you buy me nuggets?’
‘Sorry son, Mom’s taken her purse.’
‘Dad, why do we always have to do what Mom’s says?’
‘Let’s go watch the bands.’
‘Okay. Will Mom buy the nuggets afterwards?’
‘Maybe. Just remember independence and freedom works better, if you’re nice to Mom.’