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Let's Write the Next Great Frum Novel
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InnerMe




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 1:05 pm
SuperWify wrote:
I’m so confused. How many joeys are there in this story?

Are you nuts? There's one and only one Joey.
Yes, he's all over the place. Today's secular teens... y'know.
I can't believe people wouldn't put this together. Can't Believe It LOL
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amother
Ecru


 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 1:06 pm
1ofbillions wrote:
No frum book would include the bold part.


Now there’s a challenge. If I ever write a frum book, I will put the word “boogied” in it just to prove this wrong! What I found unrealistic is that people don’t boogie at Springsteen and Bon Jovi concerts - they rock out! I wonder if this Rivka is a NJ girl by her (former) music tastes....
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InnerMe




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 1:07 pm
thunderstorm wrote:
Why Oh Why Oh Why is it so hard to get this tchocka of a man's name straight ????

Is it the narrowing of our eyes that's causing us to have trouble reading his name correctly?


I think it's just a brilliant literary device used in the story to prove to us how forgetful people can be. Oh and never to get insulted if someone doesn't remember your exact name. It's just human. Even the writer/s of this Greatest Frum Novel mess up. Cool
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amother
Ecru


 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 1:13 pm
MitzadSheini wrote:
(caveat I have also never read one of these novels)

Meanwhile, over in Stamford Hill, Rivka's second best friend forever who she met at Neve after her summer at Camp Ramah, was driving home after a late night shopping expedition at Sainsbury's. Malkie peeked frustratedly at the rearview mirror to pat down her sheital as she waited for the traffic light to turn green. The rain was tapping angrily on her windscreen, and the pathetic attempt of the wipers to remove the drops created a deluge of water making it almost impossible to see out.

Malkie picked up her phone.


Why must it be Stamford Hill? Why can’t other U.K. communities be the location? Examples:

Hendon
Golders Green
Borehamwood
Edgware
Manchester
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InnerMe




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 1:17 pm
amother wrote:
Why must it be Stamford Hill? Why can’t other U.K. communities be the location? Examples:

Hendon
Golders Green
Borehamwood
Edgware
Manchester


Ok, come on don't get insulted. Don't you realize that everything happens in SH?? That's where all the hock and fun is. There couldn't be a better place for this Great Frum Novel to be taking place.

Well.. perhaps except Fritzenshpeil, which is a town in the middle of nowhere, that has an amazing frum community, somewhere near the Pacific Ocean but not in North America.
No, you can't move there. It's already full.
Sorry, you can't visit either. We have stranger anxiety.
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WitchKitty




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 1:20 pm
amother wrote:
Why must it be Stamford Hill? Why can’t other U.K. communities be the location? Examples:

Hendon
Golders Green
Borehamwood
Edgware
Manchester

Sweetheart. There ARE no communities aside for Stamford Hill.
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InnerMe




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 1:25 pm
thunderstorm wrote:
Rivka finally managed to utter "How can I help you? Is everything OK?"
"We have some questions for you Mrs. Ba-ruck, can you give us a few minutes of your time please?"
The first thought was that the kids will be walking in the door any minute. How awful it would be for them to see mommy being interrogated . But she felt pressured to comply and found herself saying "Sure, sure come on in".
Rivka led the officers past the grand entrance to the dining room on the right. "Please have a seat" , she said. "Can I offer either of you a drink ? Coffee? Water? Juice?"
"N-no thanks ma'am, we're all good ".
And with that the three of them took their seats at the large mahogany table.


[The truth is all this is distracting the Greatest Frum Writers out there from using their talents to complete the Greatest Frum Novel.. so on with the program - ed]

In the midst of all this seriousness 8 year old Tirtzala came into the room wearing aleph bais pajamas.

"OMG! I had these pajamas as a kid" exclaimed Joey while his colleague looked on in horror at the utter lack of professionalism.

"OMG!! OMG!!" Joey carried on. It seemed he'd had a nervous breakdown.

Rivka looked at agent ____ [I forgot the name- ed] warily.

Was this part of some sort of plot? Or perhaps she was hallucinating this whole scene?
But the look on agent _______'s face told her that this was real. Very real. And not pretty.
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SuperWify




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 2:16 pm
InnerMe wrote:
Are you nuts? There's one and only one Joey.
Yes, he's all over the place. Today's secular teens... y'know.
I can't believe people wouldn't put this together. Can't Believe It LOL


Guess Im a bit slow?

Ok so heres the next Joey-

“Joey,” Rabbi Joshua Samuel Klugman said with a proud smile, “ I think you are finally ready to be bar-mitzvahed. You said those blessings perfectly and read from the Torah beautifully. Are your parents ready for the party?”

Almost 13 year old Joey removed the silk kippah from his head and closed the Torah book gently. He excitedly told the Rabbi about the disco themed party they were throwing for the entire temple. He spoke of the colorful lights they rented, the DJ, the lavish buffet, and the special rock singer* that would make it the party of the century.

Joey walked home an excited feeling jumping around his stomach. All of his friends would be jelous of his bar mitzvah. That was the point, was it not?

And yet, he wondered why he had this small but growing bigger ever so slowly empty feeling all the way at the bottom of his stomach in the place that should have been filled completely with joy.

He shrugged, trying to pretend that it was just pre bar mitzvah nerves.

*****

Meanwhile looking down from Shamayim great Zayde Yosef Yossel from his glorious place in gan eden nodded a sagely nod. The pintele yid was stirring at the bottom of the stomach of his precious and beloved great grandson. Would he finally make his way back to the holy roots of his great grandparents? Oh what pain they had suffered, he and his good Zelda when their children literally melted into the American melting pot. Why they threw their tefillin into the Atlantic sea...! He had never worked a shabbos in his life- no matter the difficulties- and yet all his children were mechalel shabbos!! Now they were all dead with him together up Here and every anxious day they prayed their descendants would return to the place from where there grandparents had so brazenly and without emotion left...



* editor removed name of singer as there is no need to introduce non jewish culture to our story.
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PinkFridge




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 2:27 pm
thunderstorm wrote:
Rivka finally managed to utter "How can I help you? Is everything OK?"
"We have some questions for you Mrs. Ba-ruck, can you give us a few minutes of your time please?"
The first thought was that the kids will be walking in the door any minute. How awful it would be for them to see mommy being interrogated . But she felt pressured to comply and found herself saying "Sure, sure come on in".
Rivka led the officers past the grand entrance to the dining room on the right. "Please have a seat" , she said. "Can I offer either of you a drink ? Coffee? Water? Juice? Leg of lamb?"
"N-no thanks ma'am, we're all good ".
And with that the three of them took their seats at the large mahogany table.


I will try not to do rewrites, but the bolded was essential.
Carry on.
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mammale




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 2:31 pm
We need the scenes of little frum children laughing at Joey looking so out of place in the yeshiva neighborhood... Or is it beautiful scenes of children reviewing what they learned on their way home from cheder that move Joey so much...?

And of course, we have yet to be introduced to Yyb's sister whose beauty and modesty far surpass all who will marry Joey when he becomes Baal teshuva...
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SuperWify




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 2:40 pm
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.
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iyar




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 2:44 pm
SuperWify wrote:
YYs mother was a very wise woman. Surely ma would know what to do, he thought to himself. Why, he had such fond memories or her so lovingly taking care of him and all 12 siblings. The house was always spotless, you could see the floors gleaming. There was always fresh kokosh cake and a glass of milk waiting for YY after a long hard day in yeshiva. She never raised her voice at any of them of or her dear husband who she had such respect for.

If only Rivka could be like that! Why, she couldn’t even manage her own seven kids without asking him for help! HIS mother never asked his father for help! Never! Not once in her life!

Rivka was a mess. The house was messy. The kids were messy. Of course he couldn’t do his duties when his own wife couldn’t do hers!

He picked up the phone to make the fateful call.



Shifra patted her snood absentmindedly. Since the birth of the triplets six weeks ago she hadn't once managed to put on a sheitel. She still wore the faded blue lined chenille snood she had kept on her tired head through eighteen hours of labor and delivery, and had taken to patting it distractedly while she tried to organize her thoughts. Shabsi, Shragi and Shira Shprintza were all crying in their cradles and Zalman Zev had just left for Maariv even though they lived right down the block from Anshei Mashkimim and minyan wouldn't start for another twenty minutes. It hadn't even occurred to Zalman Zev to offer his help with one of the insatiable little screamers even though she had just given five baths, signed four homework sheets and listened to all the older boys say Shema while he sat on the sofa preparing for the daf yomi shiur he gave every morning at precisely 4:45 am. Meanwhile Shabsi wailed, Shragi hiccoughed hoarsely and Shira Shprintza narrowed her eyes precociously at her frazzled mother, silently daring her to pick up one of her brothers before attending to her, the lone pink bundle among a house full of budding tzaddikim.

Shifra glanced at the tear soaked Tehillim on the change table but then reached for her triple filtered badatz hechsher cell phone instead. The time had come. She would call her mother and tell her everything. Surely her wise, caring mother would be able to knock some sense into Zalman Zev. Why oh why couldn't he daven at Anshei Ohavei Sheinah like her older brother Yehoshua Yerachmiel Boruch? Why oh why did he bury his hooked nose (his legacy from his ancestors in ancient Toledo on the Iberian Peninsula) in his sefarim while she collapsed from fatigue unnoticed?

The phone rang and rang as two precious blue bundles of joy increased the volume of their protests and a pudgy hand emerged from the pink swaddle to pat the downy blonde tuft at the top of a velvety scalp. Shira Shprintza joined the chorus and Shifra sighed dejectedly. Why oh why was her wise loving mother not taking her call?

Little did she know that at that very moment her brother, Yechezkel Yirmiyah Baruch was pouring out his heart and describing in great detail the neglect he suffered at the hands of his wife Rivka while his mother listened enthralled.
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SuperWify




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 3:05 pm
iyar wrote:
Shifra patted her snood absentmindedly. Since the birth of the triplets six weeks ago she hadn't once managed to put on a sheitel. She still wore the faded blue lined chenille snood she had kept on her tired head through eighteen hours of labor and delivery, and had taken to patting it distractedly while she tried to organize her thoughts. Shabsi, Shragi and Shira Shprintza were all crying in their cradles and Zalman Zev had just left for Maariv even though they lived right down the block from Anshei Mashkimim and minyan wouldn't start for another twenty minutes. It hadn't even occurred to Zalman Zev to offer his help with one of the insatiable little screamers even though she had just given five baths, signed four homework sheets and listened to all the older boys say Shema while he sat on the sofa preparing for the daf yomi shiur he gave every morning at precisely 4:45 am. Meanwhile Shabsi wailed, Shragi hiccoughed hoarsely and Shira Shprintza narrowed her eyes precociously at her frazzled mother, silently daring her to pick up one of her brothers before attending to her, the lone pink bundle among a house full of budding tzaddikim.

Shifra glanced at the tear soaked Tehillim on the change table but then reached for her triple filtered badatz hechsher cell phone instead. The time had come. She would call her mother and tell her everything. Surely her wise, caring mother would be able to knock some sense into Zalman Zev. Why oh why couldn't he daven at Anshei Ohavei Sheinah like her older brother Yehoshua Yerachmiel Boruch? Why oh why did he bury his hooked nose (his legacy from his ancestors in ancient Toledo on the Iberian Peninsula) in his sefarim while she collapsed from fatigue unnoticed?

The phone rang and rang as two precious blue bundles of joy increased the volume of their protests and a pudgy hand emerged from the pink swaddle to pat the downy blonde tuft at the top of a velvety scalp. Shira Shprintza joined the chorus and Shifra sighed dejectedly. Why oh why was her wise loving mother not taking her call?

Little did she know that at that very moment her brother, Yechezkel Yirmiyah Baruch was pouring out his heart and describing in great detail the neglect he suffered at the hands of his wife Rivka while his mother listened enthralled.


Shifra glanced at the clock and sighed. It was 9:28 and now she could no longer call her wise mother until 10:00. She thought of her parents gleaming kitchen, tastefully but simply decorated and always immaculate and then shuddered at the sight of her own messy one. She pictured her choshuva father complimenting her mother on her delicious food and speaking to her about his day. Then she recalled dinner with Zalmen Zev some twenty minutes ago and shuddered. It was frozen pizza on paper plates. Her husband couldn’t talk because he was reviewing his chaburah. The babies were screaming and she couldn’t even sit with him. She didn’t eat and he didn’t even notice.

The babies all staters screaming and this time Shifra cried with them.


Last edited by SuperWify on Thu, Dec 06 2018, 3:41 pm; edited 1 time in total
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InnerMe




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 3:16 pm
Superwify and iyar, you're hilarious!😂😂😂
I vote this the thread of year.😄
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WitchKitty




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 3:17 pm
Now every other chapter is about Shifra and her beloved ZZ?

Shifra Shalva felt as if she couldn't go on. Her life was in shambles. The last time she had cooked anything fancier than Jamie Geller was...oh, ages ago. She didn't even have time to go out to eat! And ZZ didn't even notice.
She missed her "Spice and Spirit" cookbook, and her mother's falshe fish. She missed waiting for the school bus with all her neighbors and getting to hear who's mother died that week, and who was sick. A tear rolled down her cheek.
Shifra ran to the bookshelves, and buried her face in her trusted tehillim. Memories of her Bubba Breindel, who had bought her this tehillim, made her stop crying immediately. De Bubba would never have cried!
"Get a grip!" she told herself, and went to fix her makeup in preparation for supper and dear Zevulun Zanvil.
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thunderstorm




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 3:30 pm
Shifra realized that at the rate things were going she will never have a chance at self care again. She needed help desperately but she would never disturb ZZ chas v'shalom or be matriach him in any way.
What could she do? Then she had an epiphany ! She will call her sister in law and also dear friend ,Rivka Baruch to see if she could "lend" one of her daughters for a few hours.
Everybody in the family knew that they could always rely on the Baruch family for chesed or tzedaka.
She lifted the cordless phone to her ear and pressed one on her speed dial.
Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrringggg.... there was no answer . "That's odd", Shifra mumbled. "Where could Rivka be at this hour?" Her kids were scheduled to walk in the door any minute. " Why Oh why wasn't Rivka answering ?" Shifra tearfully hung up and went to prepare a delectable snack for ZZ to enjoy while he worked on his preparation .


Last edited by thunderstorm on Thu, Dec 06 2018, 3:50 pm; edited 1 time in total
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WitchKitty




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 3:38 pm
Yes, women, don't worry. Shifra Shalva and Zanvil Zev ALWAYS eat dinner twice.
YOU don't???
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SuperWify




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 3:43 pm
thunderstorm wrote:
Shifra realized that at the rate things were going she will never have a chance at self care again. She needed help desperately but she would never disturb ZZ chas v'shalom or be matriach him in any way.
What could she do? Then she had an epiphany ! She will call her friend Rivka Baruch to see if she could "lend" one of her daughters for a few hours.
Everybody knew that they could always rely on the Baruch family for chesed or tzedaka.
She lifted the cordless phone to her ear and pressed one on her speed dial.
Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrringggg.... there was no answer . "That's odd", Shifra mumbled. "Where could Rivka be at this hour?" Her kids were scheduled to walk in the door any minute. " Why Oh why wasn't Rivka answering ?" Shifra tearfully hung up and went to prepare dinner for ZZ.


Rivka is her sister in law from what I understand....
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Iymnok




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 3:46 pm
fsr wrote:
Yes, women, don't worry. Shifra Shalva and Zanvil Zev ALWAYS eat dinner twice.
YOU don't???

In some locals the midday meal is called dinner. The term refers to the main meal of the day. Others would call those lunch or supper. But our dear Shoshana Shifra has two main meals, thus she calls them both dinner.
Frozen pizza for the early dinner, fish sticks for the later one. Maybe some cucumber sticks if she has the time.
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thunderstorm




 
 
    
 

Post Thu, Dec 06 2018, 3:48 pm
SuperWify wrote:
Rivka is her sister in law from what I understand....

Oh. I didn't see that part anywhere. I was wondering where Shifra materialized from. I will change it.

I changed up my draft slightly. She's her SIL and friend and she prepares a snack instead of dinner.
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