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. Author of the poignant soul-stirring saga, “The Vast Landscape” and “Georgia Pine,” Jacqueline’s work has also been widely featured in numerous literary magazines, and anthologies. She’s a storyteller, observer, truth teller, essayist, potty mouth, beauty enthusiast and film lover who’s traveled the world. Living with Manic Depression, she believes passionately in using her voice to advocate and inspire others.
Visit Jacqueline Cioffa at jacquelinecioffa.com.
Love is the risk worth taking no matter the hurt, fear, what lies ahead. I remind myself, over and over. I am not a mother, I only understand the depths, beauty and bitter-sweetness from her side.
It’s what I know. The one truth I’ve learned that matters.
I write the complicated mother-daughter bond from both sides.
The Vast Landscape dedication reads 'To My Mother'
but belongs to us both.
The Vast Landscape
From the comfort of home, inside the sturdy cherry oak fortress, she hears the children outdoors. Voices play in her streets, and so it goes. The time path cannot be stopped. This makes her smile and somber in tandem. Harrison’s fragile, aged mother remains forever young in her mind. Her mom sits across from her on the couch. Harry rubs her feet, watches her doze painfully aware time is moving too fast. They have mere minutes left, not long ago lazy days in the thousands. Oh, if she could give some of them back, maybe it would stop. The deep lines etched across her mother’s beautiful face, the crude reminder it does not. Harry knows she is responsible in part for the depth of worry, pain and sadness written on her face. She prays she brought her joy, happiness and pride. Harry, the grown up understands better now. The choices her mom made were never really choices at all. She gifted away her hopes and dreams. She gave them willingly, taking on responsibility instead.