The Vast Landscape Print Edition

The Vast Landscape

You asked, I listened. Cover to cover,  wrote and self-published.

The Vast Landscape is available in print, no excuses not to pick one up.

Should be available on my Amazon page in 5 business days. Not some sappy romance, the story is complex, punch in the gut, real life mess. A life-affirming read, ponder and review. Super moon good juju, to all.

Cover to Cover


Cover Candy Darling

They say choosing the ‘right cover’ for your book is critical. Who are they, anyway?
I know what I like when I see it. Finding the image for The Vast Landscape cover was a stroke of luck, and believe me I’m not that lucky.
I went back and forth between two images, ultimately sticking with my gut. Your first is always your first, or so they say, again who the hell are they?!
Welcome to my world the last three days, working on visuals. Trying to find the perfect cover image for Georgia Pine., the sequel. Georgia Pine. is complicated enough, three stories intertwine somehow, somewhere, someplace. Sounds a lot like the beautiful, crazy mess we live in. There’s time to read The Vast Landscape, before Georgia Pine. She’s a work in progress, dependent on me to set the pace.
I kept a few mock-ups aside, that have potential. Surprise, surprise.

Got you covered? Which image catches your eye?






Shutterstock credit (I’d be broke if I purchased every pic. I’m on Aries, we can’t see black and white.)QzS3b30Ci9

House of Glass

Fisherman's wharfWater soothes the gypsy, calms and evokes pleasant imagery. Vibrant, transparent color, wishing wells of knowledge, fragile glass trinkets, forgotten treasure, long discarded. The sea and her black ink mystery, whispers in tongue, tales only I can decipher. The beach house perched precarious on a bluff, chimes dance and sway in the wind, calling me home. I know this place, I have been here before, she beckons. I am not ready, sea legs unsteady. Spirit bound blue, red and green, hauntingly transparent, over persistent and all too familiar.

The Write Therapy

They ask too much, expect more from me. To sit in a room with gut wrenching, broken, beaten down souls. There is too much pain, upon the blood, stained walls. I cannot, I will not. I refuse to spill my intimate, tragic, sad story. This fight is personal, entirely my own. Between God and me, she is not the enemy. I wonder, I do. I can’t help but be curious, where did the cracks begin? The precise second the dam opened, were the leaks there all along?


The words don’t betray me, they remain strong. I trust the visions, the intangible guide. As I work Georgia Pine., the sequel to The Vast Landscape, I am back there. The oh, so familiar place, I have not known. I have visited and revisited the soulful jungle, inside the hidden crevices of the mind. “Sweat trickling down her face. She envisions swampland, mossy bayou, a green so vibrant she cannot describe the magnificent beauty. Massive Cypress’, musk smell, painstakingly slow-moving, gator filled muddy waters.” 

I am reminded I have dreamt Louisiana before, bluegrass bayou. Through the eyes and mouth of a wild, reckless, blond angel, with the devil tattoo on her bicep. I loved her tales, I will visit sometime. And dance the day into night overtaken, losing track of space, obligation and time.

I choose the write therapy, for today that is what I decide. The stories drift in and out of memory, always returning in due time. The words sacred, a safe place to call mine.

For Kathleen, Reckless Beauty  -Milan ’95

Walking the streets

Wandering with no direction

Dancing in my negligee

The heat of the pavement tells

My tongue

Tastes the warm rain possibility

New Orleans, swamp and rust hinges

The blues brings me up

I dreamt of you, again

Riding your bike and laughing

You were young, glorious and free

Sitting a pinch above my right shoulder

I reach out my arms

Hug the damp air

Take a breath

Inhaling remnants

Smelling your skin

It’s fine

Everything will be

If I can only, get back

Thoughts of you, dead brother of mine

Spirits a’ plenty in the bayou

I’ll be back home, soon

In summertime


Clarity Jane

-David Cabrera “Open Road”

Dotting the eyes…

The Vast Landscape by Jacqueline Cioffa is available on for Kindle and Kindle reading apps. Sorry if I was unclear about that, oops my bad.

Below is the correct link to The Vast Landscape, as well Kindle Reader App info.

Kindle reading apps are available on numerous devices. For a complete list of devices that are compatible with Kindle Content, visit:

Ripping off the bandaid, one strip at a time.

photo Leo Burnett

Karmic Cleanse

Let There be LightI’m uncomfortable with pr, marketing all things that come with ‘self-promotion’. It makes me squeamish on a cellular level. I do it anyway, in spite of insecurities. Because quite simply, if something is honest and important, no one understands better than you. Especially when you are working with zero budget. I set the mood, cleanse the air, send out select, positive emails, and karmic vibrations. Practicing the art of Zen living. The rest? Is left to luck, timing and circumstance. Bon chance.

Dear Editor…

Death by Tongue

baby Lupe

I love my dog, she’s my baby. Anyone who knows me, knows Lupe is spoiled rotten. Hour long walks, gluten-free dog food, homemade treats. If chicken broth ice cubes count. I love her, a little bit less when the temperature hovers at zero and she doesn’t want to go out. Shit man, neither do I. Five layers, boots, double hats, gloves, kill me now. Burnt nose, numb extremities, (mine), her- frozen paws. She refuses to touch ground, doing the weirdo, mexican jumping bean dance. We go to the pet store, to buy her some booties. Yeah, so not happening. I pick up  paw relief balm, rub it in, she licks it off. Now, she’s really trying what little is left of my frozen arse patience. Short fuse and all. I’m thinking, a cat sounds good right about now. Except, I don’t like them. Ever since my Miami days, when a devil black and white kitty, (that’s what I called him) pissed in my suitcase. Every single chance he got. The putrid smell, is beyond anything I’ve experienced. I’m a dog person, can’t help it. Next life, I’m coming back where it’s warm, sunshine 24/7. 0 degrees, zero tolerance. At least she’s indoors, where it’s toasty. Not all of us were born that lucky. Onto Depends for dogs, and a new area code. Preferably one that doesn’t dip below freezing. Sidebar: We bundle up ready to brave the shit storm. Lupe decides to lick the frozen metal pole, promptly ripping off her tongue. Seriously?! At least her paws don’t hurt, bring on the Friday fun. Good thing I didn’t have kids. I would’ve killed them by tongue.

Tongue remnants

Lupe 2014 Blizzard



Keep your animals warm, and help your humans stay out of the storm, however you can.