To welcome official northern hemisphere Winter and to punctuate the solstice, Mistress of Fictioneering, Rochelle, has teamed up with the wonderful winter scene photographer, Dale Rogerson, to inspire us to create, write, and to post stories of fewer than 101 words.
While a click on Dale’s pic gets you a sleigh ride over to Rochelle’s blog where all the fun begins, I can tell you that this is a challenging writing experience. So is going to the page of squares (inlinkz) where reading and commenting begets us the same. Do that by clicking on the below photo of Jackie O and her bane paparazzo, Ron G.
Genre: Historical Fiction
Title: Ambivalent Vanity
Word Count: 100
***
“Ron, that’s her private property across the creek. You’re obsessed with this woman. No wonder everyone hates all paparazzi.”
While looking through his telephoto viewfinder, “People love my photos and rags pay us big bucks, Billy-boy. Celebs want it both ways — fame and fortune with pictures but hate me for taking them. Hand me my waders.”
I stayed back while he walked toward the house.
Ron came running back to the crack of gun shots. He fell into the freezing water. Then he got up, and we ran to the car. He laughed and said, “Ain’t this job fun, Billy-boy?”
***
Look both ways for a paparazzo hiding behind a bush.
These days, everyone has a camera.
Mind the gaps or just surrender to the inevitable cha-ching of notoriety.
The facts: Ron Galella, the freelance photographer who relentlessly pursued Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis until a judge barred him from taking her picture, who pestered Marlon Brando until Brando broke his jaw and detached five teeth, and who for better or worse helped define today’s boundary-challenged culture of celebrity, died on Saturday, April 30, 2022, at his home in Montville, N.J. He was 91.
Click on the photo of Jackie Onassis and photographer Ron Galella to read more excellent stories inspired by Dale’s photo. (1971 in NYC. Photo by Ron Galella/Ron Galella Collection via Getty Images)
The eight-day Jewish festival, which began at nightfall yesterday, is also known as the festival of lights, or the Feast of Dedication. It commemorates the recovery of Jerusalem and rededication of the Second Temple at the beginning of the Maccabean revolt.
As a child growing up in a relatively “strict” Roman Catholic family, I recall all the “Christmas” cards we received during December. Mom used them to decorate our home. I recall many of the cards wishing us Happy Holidays and Happy Hanukkah. This was from the late 1940’s through the 1960s.
While I attended a Catholic parochial elementary school, I also recall saying “Happy Hanukkah” and playing with dreidels (or similar toys). A dreidel is a four-sided top bearing Hebrew letters. I ate some Jewish foods (year-round) and drank sweet kosher wine, but I did not learn the full meanings and traditions until years later.
When my children were growing up, they (and we) had Jewish family friends. During the holiday season one Jewish friend went to our children’s public schools and explained the Hanukkah festival. During the eight-day festival, my children spent many evenings at their friend’s home learning about Jewish traditions, eating the special foods, and participating in lighting the nine light menorahs (Chanukiah).
While Hanukkah is a minor Jewish religious holiday, for me it is full of happy (and a few sad) memories, and I ponder the possibilities. One more time, Happy Everything, Everyone.
Look both ways to learn the stories our friends and neighbors have to share.
Mind the gaps because no two are exactly alike.
Mid December finds the fabulous Rochelle walking the line toward us with one of Lisa Fox’s hanging out pics to plant seeds of grandiose fiction-ology in our creative minds.
If you wanna hang out with us, just click a pin on Lisa’s photo to swing over to Rochelle’s blog where all the threads and details of writing a story in very few words is explained by the Mistress of Friday Fictioneers.
Genre: Cartoon Humor
Title: Rizzo Makes His Play
Word Count: 100
***
Gonzo the Great stormed into the kitchen where Rizzo the Rat was eating while addressing 1,274 Holiday Cards to his family. “Guess what, Rizzo? Animal called. The Electric Mayhem are coming over to practice tonight.”
Rizzo mugged Gonzo and said, “Is Janice coming? I want to rat out with her if Zoot gets stoned. I mean, hubba, hubba!”
Gonzo looks at the audience, then Rizzo, “You really are a rat. These are our peeps. We don’t do that.”
“Oh, Gonzo. Every successful band needs a love triangle. A little hanky-panky never hurt. Look at Piggy. Are you gunna eat that?”
Look both ways to remember, or to forget, those great characters who formed our humor and musical genius.
Mind the gaps and the steps between the notes.
Gloss: Gonzo and Rizzo are Muppets from the television show of the same name. Rizzo first appeared in episode 418 of The Muppet Show, as one of many rats following Christopher Reeve backstage. He can be seen mugging and reacting to dialogue. He remained a scene-stealing background figure through the final season, occasionally performing with Dr. Teeth and The Electric Mayhem band.
Click the pic of Gonzo and Rizzo to read more stories mused up by Lisa’s hanging line photo.
And, of course, The Electric Mayhem doing Bohemian Rhapsody.
Each Wednesday, the magnificent maven of mystery, Rochelle, sends us a notice with a photo prompt. Inspired by the prompt, we are challenged to write a complete story in fewer than 101 words. To go to her blog and join the fun, click on her photo below.
I usually avoid reading other Friday Fictioneer stories until I have written and posted mine. This week I read Rochelle’s first. Her story replaced her photo as the primary prompt in my mind. Eventually, I wrote this one which I felt was more influenced by the photo, maybe.
Genre: Fiction
Title: The Best Outcome
Word Count: 100
***
The Best Outcome
James and Cathy had a wonderful life together. Highschool sweethearts who’d recently celebrated their sixty-sixth wedding anniversary. They’d raised five children and lost count of the grand and great-grandchildren whose names were too often forgotten.
After their fiftieth year together, James and Cathy made some end-of-life medical decisions and a covenant. Neither would allow the other to suffer an unnecessarily prolonged, painful death after all better options had been exhausted and all hope was lost.
The time came. It fell upon James to end Cathy’s tormented life. He couldn’t. He ended his own, alone in the garage. “What is love?”
***
Look both ways and try to see other points of view.
Mind the gaps, we don’t need more damn bricks in the wall.
Click on the photo above to read more wonderful, and probably uplifting, stories by the brilliant writing cast of Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.
He didn’t marvel at that momentous moment. After many years, she had become sanctimonious.
It wasn’t the stupendous vision he hoped for. It was horrendous, not tremendous,
seeing her now as portentous.
Look both ways but the past was then, this is now.
Find and mind the gaps for hidden reasons for change.
Kicking off the twelfth month of twenty-twenty-two, artist, businesswoman, swimmer, writer, mother, wife, sister, (I could go on), and our friend and fictioneer leader, Rochelle, has provided us with a peek out from Roger Bultot’s window with his inspiring photo as a bridge to creativity.
It goes like this. We look at the picture and write whatever story (beginning, middle, & end) we want. Easy, right? It’s doesn’t even have to be pure fiction. But we must prove our micro (or flash) – (non-)fiction bone fides by trimming our stories to any number of words under 101. Try it!
The directions are simple and available on Rochelle’s blog page, reachable with a simple tap, click, or press on Roger’s picture, like it was a detonator.
Genre: Espionage Fiction
Title: Truncated Bridge
Word Count: 100
***
Looking out the window, I felt stress. Ignorance fed by fear. After this job, I’d comfortably retire. To what? Sad.
The morning sunrise lacked hope. It was threatening. A foreboding bloody sky in a randomly meaningless universe. I didn’t care. It was time.
I lit what I promised myself was my last cigarette and sat by the window as I’d done hundreds of times before. When I saw the target on the bridge, I pressed the detonator button and watched the explosion. I always hated all the collateral damage. The news would blame the old bridge. Everyone lies. Everyone dies.
***
Look both ways to find happy endings.
Mind the gaps because that’s where the bridges collapse.
Click on Tom Hanks in the Bridge of Spies movie to read more stories based on Roger’s photo.
And for the music lovers among us, I present the Eagles singing “Seven Bridges Road.” If it works. I suppose I took the bridges thing a bit too far.
For Thanksgiving Eve this year, Boss Rochelle, our lovely, multi-talented, family oriented, and artistically gifted literary ladyship guide has gone redux to prompt us all with a pic from the awesome Brit, Sandra Crook. Sandra’s photo has many prompting options, but I was mused into a musical mood.
Click on Sandra’s photographic prompt to jump off into Rochelle’s blog page from where you may climb back up with your own story based upon whatever inspiration you received.
“Toy! Hey, Toy. What y’all doin’? Where’s that devil woman yer in lust with?”
Toy sang out, “She gone, Mick. Done left me in Spartanburg. Oh, Lawdy, Ima gunna buy a ticket till it run out of track.”
He pulled his guitar up and sang, “Gonna climb that highest mountain. Gonna jump right off. Ain’t nobody gunna know. That woman, Lawdy. What she done to me. Can’t ya see, Mick?”
I said, “Yer too stoned to climb up there. I’m sorry. We told ya she’s a black-hearted woman, man.”
Toy yelled, “Mean ol’ woman’s with Marshall. Never told me goodbye!”
***
Look both ways in love and lust.
Mind the gaps for tips, trips, and occasional slips.
Click on the Lovers Leap pic to find more stories based upon Sandra’s Photo.
My story is based on the early 70’s southern/country rock song lyrics, Can’t You See, by the Marshall Tucker Band, written by Toy Caldwell. Other allusions: Mick (Jones) from the band Foreigner (Cold as Ice) and Black-Hearted Woman by the Allman Brothers Band.
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