The Vast Landscape is a journey, a pilgrimage, a walk filled with doubt, mistrust, fame, self-discovery and a life lived, big and bold. The carnival ride comes full circle. The Vast Landscape sucks you in from the very first page and keeps you there, holding your breath. Harrison, the complicated, fearless, brash, messy heroine on her quest to find inner peace in spite of her flaws. Raw, emotional, honest to a fault, The Vast Landscape keeps you guessing and wanting more.
A love story so bittersweet it leaves an acrid taste in the mouth and teardrops made out of sea salt. Can Harrison strip away the armor? Unmask the beautiful person hiding all along? It’s a simple question. All roads lead back to, Zack.
Jacqueline Cioffa was an international model for 17 years and celebrity makeup artist. She is a dog lover, crystal collector and Stone Crab enthusiast. Her work has been featured in Brainstorms, the Anthology and numerous literary magazines. Living with manic depression, Jacqueline is an advocate for mental health awareness. She's a storyteller, observer, essayist, potty mouth and film lover who's traveled the world.
THE VAST LANDSCAPE her soul stirring, fiction debut explores the universal depths of the human experience.
Fans of the emotional, heartfelt first novel will not be able to put GEORGIA PINE, the anticipated sequel down.
Jacqueline's author site: http://jacquelinecioffa.com
She writes the column, “Bleeding Ink” with Feminine Collective.
Truth sitting in raw, gut wrenching, heartbreaking, powerless fiction. The white blinding, all encompassing love, no matter the cost or the weight remains.
my truth, his truth. Little girls grow up forever true loving their daddy's.
The Vast Landscape
“Hi, Daddy.” He musters a fake grin back. She sits at the empty table and grabs his trembling hand. “We’re busting you out. It’s Christmas Eve Daddy, you can come home.” He nods drooling, unsure he gets what the hell is going on. Harrison knows that look, far too well. It’s the same pretend happy face she uses, and gets away with. Not with him though, never with him. He knows her too well. On this night, he doesn’t even notice. He’s too fucked on meds, he gets a free pass. Some say he lost his mind; suicidal, depressed, manic, and psychotic. Locked up by choice, shock treatments his last resort. They help, the first time around. Nothing much helps after that, and her Daddy is lost, trapped inside a broken mind, for good. Harry scans the room, holding tight to father’s hand. Harry despises physical intimacy, but with him she doesn’t mind. Her mom is giving Bob, the old guy with the HOLE(Hello, GROSS. Can’t they cover that shit up? Poor Bob, nice man.) in his throat, wrapped Grisham books. He smiles and writes a note to say thanks, and Merry Christmas. His wife died, he’s depressed. Who the fuck wouldn’t be?! Bob has a fucking hole in his throat, his wife is dead and it’s Christmas. Seems pretty normal to me. In that shithole, stale, sterile, horrendous place, where they lock you up and strip away your dignity. Sounds a lot like the real world to me, the vast landscape of insanity. Despair reeks of crazy, palpable sadness. Couldn’t they jazz the place up? There’s hot boy, confined to his wheelchair. Looks like Tom Cruise, “Top Gun” total hotness. Hotter than Tom Cruise, can you say smoking,’ even in the loony bin, paralyzed and locked up? Fuck yeah, you can. He’s depressed, wheelchair forever bound, fucking motorcycles. No one EVER comes to visit. Eighteen days Harrison stayed home that year, and no one came. Not a soul, she counted. She’d wave and he’d wave back, hiding his face in shame. She’d give him her prettiest smile, and mean it. Freaks like him and her, have got to stick together. Harry’s dad? He went home eventually, but he never got out.