Writings

Writings
Miscellaneous Writings and Musings

Maelstrom

Maelstrom
A genie and her rock band

(Novel and Short Stories)

Steal Tomorrow

Steal Tomorrow
Murder, Mystery, First Love, and the End of the World

(Novel and Short Stories)

My Books and Stories

My Books and Stories
Where to Buy, Read, Download

Little Lies

What if you weren’t who I thought you were?
And all this angst,
this hair shirt,
were for naught?

What if you were just a fevered dream?
And my self-flagellation
was for someone no more real
than a fairy tale?

Oh tell me, please
that I haven’t suffered in vain.
That I haven’t sacrificed
beauty
health
peace of mind
over a you that never was.

Even if it’s a lie, just whisper in my ear
that yes, you were worth it after all.

Perception

The train pulled into the depot with a hiss of steam and hydraulics.

Robert urged his daughter to stand up. “Let’s get something to eat.” He led her into the shabby building, frowning at the peeling paint and broken fans.

Sophie, of course, took it all in stride. “This is a nice place.”

Her father started to correct her, but then stopped himself. Sophie had never known a world that was fresh and shiny with promise, and maybe it was better this way.

He could only imagine putting the world back together, but she could imagine making something new.



This was written for Friday Fictioneers and is related to my serial, Valley of Ashes. Photo by Yarnspinner.


New Vince Story

I have a new Vince story for Friday Fictioneers: Grand Reopening

Mountain Road

Sophie reined in beside the sign, then dismounted and approached the ledge. Below was a steep drop that was both terrifying and heartbreakingly beautiful. She sighed and tipped her head back so that all she saw was the blue of the sky and a hawk soaring on the mountain air.

But the sign still required her attention. She peeked around the bend in the trail but saw nothing to suggest she should turn back. If someone didn’t want her exploring beyond this point, they would have to do better than this.

She climbed back on her horse and continued on.


This story is based on my new serial Valley of Ashes and was written for Friday Fictioneers. Photo is by Bjorn Rudberg.

Runaways

The children – one on horseback, the other on a donkey – clopped down the trail in silence. Night would be falling soon and they needed to make camp.

“You’re sure we can build a shelter with just sticks and a tarp?” Mateo asked.

Sophie shrugged. “Of course. It’ll be a little drafty, but it works. Even in stormy weather. I saw my dad do it.”

“But can you do it?”

“I told you I could, didn’t I?”

A little farther on they found a place that looked promising. They picked a spot for the shelter where the soil wouldn’t be too sandy for their purposes, then Sophie charged Mateo with finding some large branches that could interlocked to form a tepee.

It was slow going, and as darkness fell, the children realized they weren’t likely to have an adequate structure completed before dark. Part of the problem was the branches, which slipped apart whenever a new one was added. But the biggest problem, of course, was their lack of experience.

Mateo frowned. “Should we tie them? I’ve got some copper wire.”

Sophie tried to cover for her unease. This wasn’t going according to plan. “We’re probably just tired and hungry. We should take a break. We’ll be able to finish later when the moon is out.”

Mateo looked away like he wasn’t so sure, but he started building a fire anyway, while Sophie got the food and skillet out of their packs.

Cooking went more smoothly than shelter-building, and soon they had a tasty meal of fried potatoes with cheese. For dessert, there were dried apples.

It was fully night now, and both children were tired. Running away from home was more effort than they had anticipated. After a while, Sophie said, “You know, it’s really not that cold tonight. Maybe we don’t need a shelter.”

Mateo could tell by her artlessly casual manner that she didn’t want to admit she had made a mistake. But that was all right with him. He still thought the world of her and would never do anything to mar their friendship.

They huddled in their jackets, sipping tea and gazing into the crackling fire as the stars came out all around them. Unseen things rustled in the tall grass nearby, but they weren’t afraid. Travelers took this trail regularly and always arrived safely at their destination. What could they possibly have to worry about?

Far away in the darkness, a shadow moved toward them on the trail and slowly resolved into the shape of a man on horseback. As he drew near, Sophie realized with a guilty start who it was.

“Shit,” she said, startling Mateo who had never heard her curse before. “It’s my father.”

“What do you think he’s going to do?”

Sophie honestly didn’t know. The worst thing her father had ever done to her, other than make her go to school, was send her to her room once. But she had never done anything this bad before.

She felt Mateo fumble for her hand. He would be by her side no matter what. It was a very great gift to have a friend. Knowing this gave her the courage to stand so she would be ready to meet her father’s eyes.

This scene is alluded to in my serial Valley of Ashes and was written for The Sunday Whirl.

Snow Day

Sophie swung her feet, kicking the legs of the table. She was supposed to be doing her homework, but it was boring. “Let’s you and me go outside,” she said.

Mateo looked up from his school books. “Why? It’s cold out there.”

“It’s more interesting than being in here.”

The boy acknowledged this was true. “But if I go out, Mama Norma might send me on an errand. I’d rather be here in the store where it’s warm, even if it’s boring.”

Sophie considered. Her father owned this store and even though he wasn’t around this afternoon, and she was only ten years old, she had some authority around the place. “Well, I want to make a snowman. And I want you, as my employee, to help me.”

“I’m not your employee, I’m your friend.” Mateo frowned. “Or am I?”

“Of course you’re my friend.” Sophie giggled. “But in this case, you’re my employee too. That way Mama Norma can’t send you out. You’re working for me. And your job is to help me make a snowman.”

Mateo shrugged like it was all the same to him, but his infectious grin gave him away. “Sounds good, boss. Lead the way.”























This story is based on my new serial Valley of Ashes and was written for Sunday Photo Fiction. Photo is by Jade Wong.

Friday Fictioneers

I've added another Vince story. This time for Friday Fictioneers.

New Vince Story

Well...sort of. Read it and you'll see.

Decision-Making


“Stop it, June.” Robert glared as the girl plucked a flower and tossed the petals on the wind.

“Should you stay, or should you go,” she chanted.

“It’s too late for that.” He shifted the pack on his shoulder. “I base my decisions on reason, not flowers.”

“What’s so reasonable about fighting the government? My father died too. You don’t see me packing my bags.”

“Maybe you should.”

With tears in her eyes, June held the last petal aloft.

“What does it say?”

“It says to kiss me before you go.”

Robert indulged her, then set off down the trail.

https://rochellewisofffields.files.wordpress.com/2018/02/mg-rose-stem.jpg?w=600

This prequel is related to my new serial. Photo prompt by Marie Gail Stratford, posted at Friday Fictioneers.

New Serial

I've started posting my new novel here. I haven't decided whether I will be posting once a week or more often, but it's a finished piece and you'll get to read the whole thing, regardless. Feel free to send me an email or leave your thoughts in the comments!

New WIP

Hello, everyone! This is just a quick announcement that I have recently completed a draft for a new novel. It's set in the same fictional world as most of my other work: Tin Soldier, Bella Diana, Diana's Diary, and all the short stories about Vince and about Will and Diana that I've posted over the years on my Writings blog.

I will be serializing this story in a blog and later make it available as a free or almost-free Kindle download. I'm also looking at other possible formats, since technology trends change so rapidly. If anyone has new posting locations that they can recommend, please email me or post something in the comments.

If all goes as planned, I'll start posting as early as February 17, and no later than March 3.

Endings and Beginnings

She had come to know these crooked lanes and narrow alleys well. In fact, she had memorized them, along with all the city’s hazards and delights. Living here had been both a challenge and a hard-won opportunity, but life’s haphazard events had a way of changing one’s priorities. So it was with much regret that she now packed her bags. What would home feel like after being so long away? Well, she would soon find out.

She went down the stairs, opened the door and paused on the front step. “Goodbye,” she whispered softly, then stepped out into the street.
This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers.

All Grown Up

The damage was intentional. Of that, Betty was sure. Her brother had goaded her for months to give up her toys and “grow up.” But what was so grown up about abandoning her friends? And who needed to be grown up at eight years old? She checked Teddy, Chango and Delilah for lacerations, but they seemed fine, except for the mud. Should she take them to Mom? No, she could fix this herself. She got the biggest bowl she could find, then sprinkled in some of the kaleidoscopic crystals of Mom’s laundry detergent. Soon everyone would be good as new.
This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Karuna.

Modern Woman

Violet meandered wistfully through her bedroom. She didn’t have to go. Staying and waiting for a boy to propose would be easier. But she had never taken the easy way out. That’s how she managed to become her high school’s first female valedictorian and win a scholarship to Vassar.

Her father was contemptuous of her ambitions, but she didn’t think much of his oafish views. The world was too exciting a place to be just another nameless housewife.

She slipped on her shoes, straightened the seams in her stockings, and picked up her suitcase. Life was going to amazing!


This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Magaly Guerrero.

Roommates

The timing was bad.

“It’ll have to wait,” Maria said.

Todd concurred. “If we’re to reach a lasting agreement, we can’t get distracted.”

Susie took the pizza out of David’s hands and smiled knowingly. “Sorry, greedy.”

David sighed as she took it away. On the sofa, Todd resumed talking about the bills and Maria chimed in about the rota for household chores.

“People also have to stop eating each others’ food without permission.” Susie added.

Meanwhile, the treat in the other room whispered David’s name. So while the others jabbered, oblivious, he slipped away and gave in to his cravings.





















This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Dale Rogerson.

Dream Boat

Oh, how he wanted to participate in the regatta! But all Ben had was his grandfather’s battered dinghy. The old boat was weathered and barnacle-encrusted, with a mast so flimsy it could barely hold a sail. Turning this around would be a chore.

He could, of course, buy a new boat, but he liked the thought of trouncing the competition in this humble craft while the crowd erupted in applause. Yes, he thought as he headed to the hardware store, he was up for this. He was going to make something of this little boat and everyone would be dazzled!


This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Fatima Fakier Deria.

Crime Stoppers

Trey pressed his face against the bars. Nobody had lived here for years, but the owners had left furniture, crystal, and who knew what else behind. He intended to use this information to his advantage. Trey never worried about breaking into places. His babyish face and innocent smile always got him out of a tight spot if cunning failed.

He clambered over the fence and headed across the lawn. Suddenly he heard the baying of dogs. He turned and ran, two Rottweilers in close pursuit. This place wasn’t abandoned after all, and charm wouldn’t get him out of this one!












This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by J Hardy Carroll.

Objet d'Art

It couldn’t be done, they said. No one could create such a grand object on such enormous scale using only hand tools and some rusty scrap iron.

“What’s the point?” they asked. Why spend so much effort on an object of curiosity when one could spend one’s time more productively?

Aaron deflected the naysayers with a vigorous shake of his head and disappeared into his workshop. After weeks of effort, late one night he finally moved his great work into position. Taut with expectation, he waited for daylight and the stunned faces of the townsfolk.

They had always underestimated him.



















This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Jennifer Pendergast.

Family Dynamics

She had been on her feet all day cleaning and cooking, chasing after the children and trying to get them relocated into a single bedroom. Their two uncles were coming and since one worked for Greenpeace and the other was a climate change denier, there was no way they could bunk together.

With a languid sigh, she settled into the window seat and waited for their arrival, only to be startled by a high-pitched shriek.

“It’s snowing! Mom, it never snows in July!”

Donna gave an impish grin. “Too true.” This was going to be a very entertaining family visit.


This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Sarah Potter.

A Tragic End

Ah, Doreen! Once a glamorous model stepping out in the latest styles, she was now a decaying wreck. Instead of bright lights and swank restaurants, she spent her time in a muddy field, swilling beer and chain-smoking, gazing at the empty sky.

Was she remembering happier days? Did she miss the fragrant swish of a perfumed dress and the posh elegance of an exclusive club? Did her fans and boyfriends ever come to mind, or were these embers of a life enough for her? Frightening to think that this was all that remained. She used to be such a doll!



This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Liz Young.