Let's Write the Next Great Frum Novel

↑ MitzadSheini ↓

Thu, Dec 06 2018, 6:06 pm

(I am by the way completely confused about who everyone is now. So just to add the the confusion I'll just continue where I left off a few pages ago without actually requoting it).

Mrs Baruch coughed, and narrowed her eyes. "No I am not Mrs BoarRoach", she said, patting her sheital.

The caller disconnected.

"Sister, sister!" , said the nurse exasperatedly. "I simply cannot find a next of kin for that Jewish lady in bed 26. How can we get approval for the transplant?"

"Well, I guess we could talk to that new nurse in Ward 7. You know the one with the funny name who said she can never do a Friday night or Saturday shift. She lives in Hendon. Maybe she knows someone who could sign something".

"Good idea," replied Nurse Jones. "I'll go speak to her now".

Estie Shmestentein twirled the hairs on her head around her little finger as she listened carefully to what Nurse Jones said. They needed to find a rabbi to approve a heart lung and kidney transplant for a woman who had been injured in a terrible accident. In the car was found a mobile phone, but it was so damaged that only one number appeared on the memory stick, and when they had called it the name had been wrong.

"I shall speak to the Gadol of Hendon Rabbi Rosenberg Shlita."

"Bless you", said nurse Jones, because she thought Estie had sneezed.

"I have a question, though." How do we know the woman in bed 26 is Jewish?"

"Apparently," replied nurse Jones, "there was a book of psalms found on the passenger seat. And it was soaked in tears".

↑ daagahminayin

Thu, Dec 06 2018, 10:47 pm

SuperWify wrote:

Mrs. Boruch shook her head sadly as she readjusted her sheitel and then gently hung up the phone. Her poor poor Yankel Yossel Yitzchak. Married to a woman who really couldn’t get her act together. She had promised her dear son to come up with solution and she was determined to find one. There was no reason in the works for her little poor YY to suffer any longer!!

She wiped the down the counters again, set the table with China, and warmed up her dear Zanvil’s food. It was 9:28 and he was due to arrive any minute. As She quickly and expertly reapplied her lipstick she heard her daughter call, “Mommy!” From upstairs.

In a sugary sweet voice Mrs. Boruch called, “darling, Tatty will be home in one minute. If he sees you up...” she let the warming dangle... the half precious hour of dinner for her and her her dear Zambia was sacred and all her 13 children knew not to date disturb. Her daughter didn’t reply. Mrs. Baruch smiled as she heard the sound of feet scampering back to where they belong.

Now”, she mused, “Poor Rivka was an orphan. Perhaps that was why she does not know the correct way to king ones husband..”

As her dear husband walked into their palace her minded furiously searched for a solution to the perplexing and difficult nisayon her dear poor little YY was facing.

“Shalom, Tatty!” Mrs. Baruch called to Rabbi Baruch with a smile, forcing her mind into the present moment so she could give her husband the caring yet not suffocating attention he deserved. “How was learning?”

“Shalom, Mommy.” replied Rabbi Baruch, his eyes sparkling above his long, gray beard and his inherited hooked nose. “Boruch Hashem it was a good Seder. And how are the kinderlach?”

“Oh fine, boruch Hashem!” said Mrs. Baruch, turning her head away slightly so Zelig wouldn’t see the creases in her forehead. Her husband was an expert at reading her emotions, and had honed his piercing insight through his decades of learning Torah - and Mrs. Baruch did not want him to see her fear that everything was most certainly NOT fine with one of the kinderlach.”

“Here, my dear, have a snack,” she said, setting a plate of delicious freshly baked cookies before her husband on the kitchen table.”

“Gevalt, this looks amazing, Zelda. Thank you.” Zachariyah carefully slid a cookie onto a napkin, and said a slow and mindful bracha, relishing each word before taking a small bite.

Outside, the weather had taken a turn for the worst almost as soon as Rabbi Baruch had returned home. It was as if the dark clouds were waiting for the pious man to enter his house before they were given free rule of the sky. Now, the rain poured down in vicious sheets and flashes of lightning were soon followed by the booming sound of thunder.

Rabbi Baruch remained in the kitchen and took out a siddur from his briefcase to say the special brachos over the thunder and lightning.

Zelda Baruch whispered “Amen,” hoping her husband would not pick up on the unease in her voice. It was as if the outside weather was mirroring - no, mocking - her tumultuous feelings within.

“Oh, YY, sweet YY,” she thought. “What is going to be?”

Her heart was filled with sadness as she remembered how fifteen years ago her husband had vowed to never speak to their eldest son again, to never allow him to step foot in their home again.

She knew there had always been some tension between the two men she loved most in the world, and couldn’t stand being caught in the middle of their fights.

“It’s a machlokes l’Shem Shamayim, my dear,” her husband had always told her. “The boy needs to learn, he needs to learn..”

But all Zelda could think of was the scared, lost look in YY’s eyes that night when his father had finally banished him.

Just then, she heard a rattling from the back door. A rattling that sounded urgent, fearful, yearning...”

“No - it couldn’t be...” she thought, making her way to the back room. Zeldman hadn’t heard it; he was still sitting at the table, now immersed in his gemara.

Trembling, Zelda unlocked the security chain and opened the door. Her eyes widened.

There he was. With no jacket, no hat, drenched in the rain. Her tall, sturdy boy. Her YY.

“Yekutiel Yehuda...” she whispered, savoring each word of his Y-filled name.

“Ma,” her son started. “Ma - Tatty doesn’t know I’m here, right?” He looked around furtively, then finally gave himself permission to open his heart to the woman who had always been there for him, the woman who knew him better than he knew himself.

“Oh Ma, Ma - it’s not good news!” He sobbed, unable to hold back the tears.

The sharp, heavy raindrops Messed onto Zelda’s modest sheitel as the tragedy and sweetness of the moment flooded the core of her being. So unbearably sad - to see him in this state - and after all these years. But so sweet, oh, how sweet, to see him! That he was really here!

“Oh my Tzaddikel, my boy, it’s alright, it’ll be alright!” cried Mrs. Baruch, as she rushed out into the rain, surrendering herself to the moment that she had dreamed of for so long. “Mommy’s here - I’m here! I’m here, my son, I’m here.”

And as the rain poured over them in a cold, relentless shower, the mother lovingly scooped her child up into a tender embrace.

↑ MitzadSheini ↓

Fri, Dec 07 2018, 1:55 am

She retied her snood as the sun sparkled through the freshly cleaned windows. Nervously twirling her wedding band around her finger, she glanced at the clock. It was well past time. The hummingbirds were tunefully offering their version of Tehilim as a lark swooped energetically through the crisp air.

She glanced at the at the phone. Still nothing. The coffee was warm and comforting as it slipped down her parched throat. She took a shmatter and wiped away a circle of white where the fleishig cup had sat. Baruch Hashem for parev creamer, she thought. Another sip of the thick, creamy liquid.

If not now, when?

She looked at her own sefer Tehilim sitting silently on the counter top. Her hand reached down to stroke the leather cover. And thought of Bubbie.

In the distance the cry of a young child could be heard over the birdsong. She sighed heavily, adjusted her snood, and made her way slowly towards the spiral staircase.

Lazing back into the plush leather of the green armchair, he slowly looked at his watch. Soon now. His finger grasped the curl of his peyos and he twirled it around and around. He slooged a huge gulp of his trusted bottle of ice cold coke. Narrowing his eyes, he reached into the top drawer and took out two Tylenol. He pushed them into his mouth, and washed them down with yet more coke. Ahhh.

The daf yomi volume remained unopened on his desk, as it has for the past week and a half. He caressed its cover and glanced back at the phone. The smartphone that he said he would never buy. His tie was tight around his neck. He loosened it. His fingers fumbled to undo the button on the collar of his crisp white shirt. He wondered to himself - which button would he touch next?

His forefinger and thumb pinched themselves across the end of his beard, gently tugging downwards.

Why?
Why now?
Why him?
And why her?

↑ PinkFridge ↓

Fri, Dec 07 2018, 7:42 am

daagahminayin wrote:

You did it!!!! You fleshed out the "requisite character whose head the reader will want to bang against the wall, repeatedly"! Well done!!
Banging head

↑ SuperWify ↓

Fri, Dec 07 2018, 9:40 am

Shifra woke up with a start. She quickly adjusted her snood that slipped down over eyes. The room was very dark. She had fallen asleep before Zanvil came home!! The shame! The total embarrassment! She really hoped he remembered to ask the Rav about the Shaila she had.

She quietly tiptoed past the three sleeping (Baruch Hashem!) babies and left the room closing the door behind her. Zanvil was standing there his eyes narrowed. “You fell asleep.” His voice sounded dangerously accusing.

Shifra’s shoulders sagged with shame. She took a deep breath, “I-I was putting the babies back to sleep. It was an accident, I promise!”

“I just don’t understand.” Zanvil retorted angryly, “for 2 whole weeks you laid in bed like a queen until the babies were born and then a whole week afterwards. The babies are already six weeks, why can’t you get your act together??? Look at you!” He gestured to her tired bare face, dirty shirt and shlumpy snood and wobbly stomach. “Look at the this!” He pointed to the halfway, the floor was covered with laundry. “I can’t even get a normal nights sleep because every minute another baby is crying!! There’s no food to eat other that frozen pizza! Why can you be more organized?like your mother?”

Shifra stayed to cry.

Zanvil felt a little bit better, “oh Shifra, I’m so happy you understand where you went wrong. It’s ok,” he said generously, “I”ll forgive you. If you have your act together by tomorrow morning. You have all night to clean up.” He paused, “and exercise.” He turned to go but was astonished to hear Shifra crying harder.

“I don’t understand!” He was so frustrated with her.

“What do you mean you don’t understand?!? I gave birth to three- THREE- babies less than six weeks ago and his royal highness expects his life to be neatly put back together so he can go learn all day???”

Zanvil sat down in shock. His wife had never ever raised her voice at him in the seven years of their marriage. Something was very very wrong with her. In the distance he could hear all three babies waking up and his 1 1/2 year old calling for milk. Worse he saw Shifra go into their room and slam the door without even going to the babies. She had not internalized a blessed thing he said! He thought about all the Binah magazines he read about woman going crazy after giving birth and a cold icy hand gripped his heart and refused to bug off.

THe babies continued to wail and Shifra refused to come out. He opened the door to their door and was astonished to see her fast asleep. What a lazy woman!!

He went to wake up there oldest six year old Shaina Shani. Shania Shani obdeintly changed the diapers of all three babies, and made a bottle for little Shabsi Shmiel who poor boy went right back to sleep sucking his thumb. BH he didn’t wake up his twin Shira Sara. The babies continued to wail. “Tatty should I make them formula baba’s?”

“F-formula?” Zanvil stuttered, “doesn’t Mommy have to feed them?”

“Mommy’s Doctor said she can’t feed them from her tummy because she doesn’t have enough milk there.”

Zanvil blushed from his daughters description. Then his face turned redder with anger. His wife stopped nursing! She gave up on her precious yiddeshe job!!!

He thought about what she told him the night before and his knuckles turned white. She told him, “Zanvil, in the seven years we were married I gave birth to eight children! A 6 year old, 5 year old, 3 1/2 year old, 1 1/2 year old twins, and now newborn triplets. I need a break! I can’t I’m falling apart!”

“A break? Ok so go take a walk for ten minutes, I’ll call one of my bochrim to babysit. Oh forget it’s yichud...”

“No Zanvil.” She wept, “I need a real break from having babies!”

Zanvil turned around and slammed the door in shock anger and betrayal. She asked for BIRTH CONTROL!!!!!!

↑ PinkFridge ↓

Fri, Dec 07 2018, 10:33 am

keym wrote:

He thought about what she told him the night before and his knuckles turned white. She told him, “Zanvil, in the seven years we were married I gave birth to eight children! A 6 year old, 5 year old, 3 1/2 year old, 1 1/2 year old twins, and now newborn triplets. I need a break! I can’t I’m falling apart!”

“A break? Ok so go take a walk for ten minutes, I’ll call one of my bochrim to babysit. Oh forget it’s yichud...”

“No Zanvil.” She wept, “I need a real break from having babies!”

Zanvil turned around and slammed the door in shock anger and betrayal. She asked for BIRTH CONTROL!!!!!!

This part needs to be deleted.

I can't figure out how to make it appropriate. Birth Control!!!! In a Jewish Novel!!!!

Anyways she is getting a break. She's using formula.

Wait. Is this a flashback about YY's parents? There was no Binah then, and I don't know if the Jewish Press or JO would be as effective, pop-cultural-wise.

Unless you're going for that occasional bonus, the confusing anachronism.

↑ iyar ↓

Fri, Dec 07 2018, 12:10 pm

MitzadSheini wrote:

Mitzad sheini, may I comment?
(Nobody said I could be an editor.)
You committed one of the classic faux pas of great Jewish writing, so I don't know if you get a compliment or a request to delete.
Possibly because so many of us grow up in concrete jungles, great Jewish serials always include descriptive paragraphs that are impossible in the beautiful world we live in. The protagonist is either moved by the scent of orchids (orchids have No scent) or by the song of a bird that doesn't sing.
You got it. Hummingbirds don't sing, chirp, whistle or hum.
I'm completely mochel you because your piece is Great!

little neshamala

Fri, Dec 07 2018, 1:29 pm

Wait wait WAAAAAAAIIT! Y'all forgot about the perfect friend who always makes the protagonist feel unsure of herself!

Rivka sat down at their usual corner spot in Cafe Nosh'N'Crunch and smoothed her shaitel self consciously. What a night. She knew she must look exhausted;she hadnt slept a wink.

After the FBI had left her house with their ominous farewell of "being in touch again soon", she had collapsed on the couch with her tear-soaked Tehillim, and eventually fallen asleep with it clutched to her chest. When she awoke at 3 am, she found Yitzchak Yerachmiel Boruch fast asleep in bed, snoring as though he had not a care in the world.
They would have to speak the next day.
Oy, Hashem Yerachem, maybe she should call her wise Rebbetzin Aidelkloppfer. Yes, her Rebbetzin would know just how to guide her.

But for now, her coffee. Rivka automatically straightened and adjusted her shaitel as she saw Elisheva enter the cafe. Elisheva caught her eye from the door, and elegantly placed her Armani sunglasses on her perfectly set highlighted blonde shaitel, and walked-no, glided, practically floated, to their table.

"Hey, rIvka, omg you have no idea what a night I had, totally crazy, the baby kept waking up and Maria couldnt get him to be quiet. Teething or something. Waiter! The usual please!"
She elegantly tossed her latest Prada handbag on to the chair beside her and adjusted her beautiful cream colored blouse. The latest diamond necklace her husband had surprised her with glittered.

"So Rivk, I am totally swamped with this Nshei Brunch thing on top of bring honored at the Bonei Bracha Dinner, its all just so much!" She sighed dramatically and swirled her hazelnut latte. "So, nu, what's up with you?"

Rivka pushed the salad around on her plate.
"Oh, not much.." How did Elisheva manage to look so poised all the time?

Elisheva arched her eyebrow and squinted her eyes. She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Rivka. "C'mon Rivk, out with it. I can read you like a book. Whats going on?"

Rivka raised her head slowly. Tears threatened to spill out and she quickly blinked.

"Rivka." Elisheva commanded. "Look at me"

Rivka pushed her salad around her plate some more and gave a long shuddering sigh. "Its Yitzchak Yerachmiel boruch. Somethings realy wrong-"

"What! Ok, thats it" said Elisheva as she stood up from her seat. "I know just what you need now." She shrugged into her Burberry coat and put a bejewled hand on Rivkas shoulder. "We're going shopping. Lootzies on 13th ave is having a massive sale, baby outfits for yuntiff starting at $350, lets go. That'll cheer you right up. Cmon!"

Rivka slowly stood up. Her heart gave a skip. Elisheva wanted to spend even more time with her! She smiled eagerly and patted her frizzy shaitel into place. But wait-she was running low on cash, and they had the electric bill to pay, not to mention brocha tzirel's tuition payment...she glanced at Elisheva, already sauntering towards the door, the keys to her Lexus already in her hand.

"Ok!" She said, running to catch up with her glamorous, perfect friend. She would just put it all on the credit card. After all, Hashem provides....

↑ SuperWify ↓

Sat, Dec 08 2018, 8:23 pm

keym wrote:

Oh please dear editor! figure out a way to say it without saying it! (As frum editors are want to)

Have some rachminus!!

My poor dear Shifra Shprintza!

Now that her babies are six weeks old and mikva night is around the corner (of course we won’t dare mention it..) and being that twins and multiples are in the family (her mother has four sets of twins, and she was endowed with both twins and triples...) I’m very worried she might snap from her another inevitable multiple pregnancy yet our astute readers will be quite perplexed if no new pregnancy is mentioned (not directly of course, that would be most uncouth, but a mention about her “condition”...) oh the horizon.

marvelous ↓

Sun, Dec 09 2018, 1:26 am

Hilarious! But not even one post with the ominous checklist:

The babies were crying again. Shifra tried to wake up; her brain was filled with fuzz, her eyelids glued shut, and her limbs were lead. A stern, annoyed voice cut straight through the fuzz, SHifra! it is 6:30 - the babies are crying, and the other children have to up in an hour. You still have to prepare my lunch - I'm leaving in 5 minutes!. Wake up!
Her eyes flew open to reveal her exasperated husband standing near her bed.
ANother day?! - she though. She sighed deeply and pulled herself out of bed.

After sending her husband off with her lunch, changing and feeding the babies, putting the two older kids on the bus, and the younger three having been picked up by their respective carpools (thank Hashem it wasnt her shift this morning), Shifra finally sat down with a coffee. She had an unusually quiet moment since the babies were finally sleeping - all that crying through the morning routine must have exhausted them. An annoying thought was nigggling in her mind but she could not identify it. SUddenly, Shifra bolted upright! She had just remembered that she was scheduled to take her triplets to the doctor today at 10:30! A quick glance at her lopsided clock revealed that it was 10:15. NO time to think, no time to complain, no time for anything. She quickly threw on a cleaner slinky skirt and her velvet hoodie. She slapped the sheitel on her head and was about to go out of her room when the thought popped into her head - I will look like a lady... She grabbed her lipstick and drew two haphazard lines in the vicinity of her lips, patted her sheitel and flew out of the room. Shifra grabbed the babies (all of whom started crying at being rudely awakened) and put them into the carseats (from the secondhand shop), she stuffed some essentials into a bag, picked up two carseats and put it just outside her door. Then she went back for the third baby. Keeping the car and her front door in sight - she strapped each baby into the car, locked the door and sank into the driver's seat. Whew! 10:25! As she drove she mentally reviewed the contents of her bag:
Pampers? - check.
wipes? check
babies insurance cards? check.