Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Award Winning Author Sibella Giorello On Crime, Christianity, and FBI Agent Raleigh Harmon . . .

Christal Cooper  


3,266 Words
4,191 Words With Excerpts 
        

Crime Fiction Novelist Sibella Giorello:
Suddenly
I remember walking in the snow at Christmas time, with a line from a carol running through my head.  It was, “…and the soul felt its worth.”  Suddenly it became very clear that God, though invisible, existed in three yet-unified forms:  Himself, His Son, and His Spirit.  And as such, He cares deeply about what happens to our souls, too.”   


Former newspaper reporter and novelist Sibella Giorello will release her seventh novel in her Raleigh Harmon series in the spring of 2015, Stone Cold Death.


Raleigh Harmon is not your typical southern belle from Virginia, but happens to be a forensic geologist now turned full-fledged FBI agent.  Harmon’s life is never dull – there is always the mysterious rock, the blood splatter, the unsolved crime, and the who done it that is never revealed until the very end; but what makes Raleigh Harmon most appealing is her Christian faith; her devotion to her murdered father; her love for her mentally ill mother; and her faith being tested on a regular basis.


Raleigh Harmon and Sibella Giorello have much in common – both have roots all the way back to 1884 Alaska, are Christians, have a love of family, have eccentric families, have degrees in geology, love the outdoors, love poetry; and love to dip their French fries in mayonnaise.


       Reading Giorello’s books readers would assume that being a writer was her lifelong dream and something she pursued every step of her life.  The reader would be mistaken.


       Giorello was born in Alaska, the great granddaughter of Russian pioneers who migrated to Alaska in 1884, when Alaska was still a Russian territory.  Five years later her grandmother was born, the first white baby in Juneau, and by the time Giorello was born, she was the youngest and only girl of ten grandchildren, which made her relationship with her grandmothers extremely close.


My paternal grandmother used to bring me to a Russian orthodox church in Alaska. I liked the rituals, the atmosphere of mystery. But in no way did I want to be a Christian. Frankly, they seemed weird.”


Her parents were just as colorful and eccentric – her Jewish mother was at one time a reporter for Time and Life magazines and her Catholic father was a lawyer who was later appointed to the Alaska State Supreme Court.  



“They each instilled in me a strong sense of justice, continually reminding me that the truth matters, and that knowing right from wrong is absolutely essential for a good life.  So maybe it’s natural that I drifted into writing crime fiction.”


Perhaps another mitigating factor that led her to writing crime fiction later in life was her love for books – particularly the Babar books about the famous French elephant family by writer Jean De Brunhoft that her father would read to her on a daily basis. 



When I started reading them myself, I remember a shiver of joy running right through me. Like stepping off an airplane in some wild uncharted land. Adventure, here I come.”


When Giorello was in the 8th grade she wrote a creative essay that her English teacher read aloud to the class.  It was here that she first felt pride for her writing.


“Even stronger was the feeling of relief because my words connected with someone. And that feeling made me want to connect again, and again, and again. Which is really what keeps me writing, both fiction and non-fiction.”


       Other things that keep her writing fiction and nonfiction is her family life which she described as being “wonderful” and “strange” and “individualistic” like her home state of Alaska.


       “I was basically surrounded by characters that were as vivid as anything I read about in books.  Each person I knew could tell at least one great story.  It was a great blessing to grow up listening to that.  And I think it’s what pulled me to the South later – storytelling as a natural art form.”


       One individual who could tell great stories was Giorello’s mother, just like Raleigh’s mother, Nadine, who was highly eccentric and constantly worried about her daughter’s health. 


       “My mom constantly worried about our vitamin D levels because we lived in such a cloudy, rainy climate.  When the sun came out, she would throw us outside, exposing as much skin showing as possible.”


Giorello remembers living in Alaska, walking in 20 below zero weather too school, but she doesn’t remember the cold, but instead fondly remembers being in continual awe of Alaska’s famous mountain and glaciers and desired to know Alaska’s landscape origin and make up, and the One who created it all.


Giorello was determined to find out and decided that a major in geology would answer both of those questions for her.  In 1985, she moved to Massachusetts to attend Holyoke College where she earned her degree in geology with a minor in religion.  Upon graduation she was met with two disappointments -she was fascinated with geology, but was a terrible scientist, and the religious classes she took in hopes of finding out the truth only confused her more.   


 “In college, I minored in religion, mostly because the reading was so good, and it kind of went with my geology studies. Basically, one big Whodunit. After college, I spent some time in Boston and the Jews for Jesus became friends on the subway commute. But none of it really penetrated my heart. It was all intellectual.”


She found herself at a crossroads and for the next few months took a series of odd jobs from ski instructor to tending bar.  She then moved back to Alaska, then back to Boston to work as a temporary secretary. 


It was while she was in Boston that she came across a tobacco farm in western Massachusetts and began working at the farm for less than minimum wage.  Her job was to clean out the barns, set up greenhouses, repair irrigation hoses and other jobs at the tobacco farm, working from dawn to dusk every single day.  


“Right after graduating from college all my classmates took high-powered jobs with Chubb Insurance and Goldman Sachs.  Probably it should’ve been humiliating, working for less than minimum wage on a farm with my uppity college degree.  But that farm job was ideal: purposeful yet quiet.  Breathing room to consider what I wanted to do with my life.  Not that I came up with an answer.” 


One day, while laboring a the farm, she experienced an epiphany – that she was called to be a writer, and that it wasn’t out of desire but out of need.


“I was alone with dirt, plants, and a landscape that looked lifted from a Winslow Homer painting.  And it was where I realized my need to write.  Not want.  Need.  On every break, I scribbled notes.  Stories came pouring out of my fingers.” 



Giorello soon felt the need to explore and sold her car, purchased a cheap motorcycle that looked like a Harley, but was actually a Honda Rebel 250 with only the capacity of up to 60 miles per hour.     


“In 1986, I rode from western Massachusetts to San Diego California. It sounds better than it was. My problem was my cycle. It was basically a glorified scooter.  After a thousand miles, I was ready to buy a car, except I didn’t have the money. What can I say? I’d just read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. It made a deep impression.”


While in San Diego, she picked up another passenger, a homeless dog, named Java who was dying from malnutrition.


       “I offered to take Java to a vet, and had no intention of keeping her. But as soon as that puppy tucked into my jacket, I fell in love. For the next twelve years, Java was the best dog, ever. A real gift from God. She rode the motorcycle inside my jacket, her nose sticking out of the zipper to catch the breeze.”
       She would take odd jobs along the way, and purchased newspapers from each stop, reading them voraciously.  It wasn’t until she stopped in a small East Texas town that she realized she wanted to write for newspapers and magazines.  


       I worked at whatever, whenever, wherever, until I finally realized writing was where I belonged. And all those jobs are great material for writing fiction later.”


       She took a writing job in Seattle, Washington where she wrote for the famous rock and roll magazine the Rocket.



“It was hands-down the coolest magazine in the Pacific Northwest. The editor was this hilarious character named Charles Cross, who’s now famous for his rock-n-roll biographies of people like Kurt Cobain. Why he let me write for his uber-cool mag, I have no idea. I was greener than a spruce tree. But despite being really busy, he spent time, one-on-one, teaching me how to add flair to a sentence. That era was really heady time in Seattle anyway, the beginning of bands like Pearl Jam, that whole grunge-rock thing. It was a great place to begin a writing career.
Interesting note: the Rocket also had a relatively unknown cartoonist named Matt Groening. Right before the Simpson’s took off . . . .”



       She earned her second degree in journalism from the University of Washington, and in 1989, applied for numerous internships, and she received some offers – the best offer from Richmond News Leader who needed a feature reporter for two months at $800 a month.  She jumped at the chance, sold her motorcycle, and rented a truck where she and Java drove to Richmond, Virginia.  Her job as feature reporter turned from two months to five years. 


During those five years she had no desk, and, instead carried all of her writing equipment in her gargantuan backpack.  When she was ready to write a story, she would find an empty chair and type until the rightful occupant came along, only to pack up her gargantuan backpack and find another unoccupied desk until the rightful occupant showed up, and would continue the same process until she was finished with her story.  As a result, she learned to write stories fast, accurately and to shut out all distractions.


       She also learned that fiction writing was what she needed to study in order to be an effective feature writer.  From fiction writing, she learned how to use dialogue, description and insert flashbacks in her features stories, which explains why she was nominated for a Pulitzer for her work.  


       The most important thing that happened to her while working for the Richmond News Leader was not the awards, but being assigned to do a story on a Pentecostal tent revival. 


Man alive! I’d never seen anything like it. Talk about weird!  But as I interviewed these tongue-talking Christians, I noticed how open they were. No barriers, no worries, no sense of being guarded, even though they were talking to a cynical reporter. Not long after that, more Christians crossed my path, particularly a family whose dad was dying of brain cancer.  All these experiences distilled into my heart.  Fence-sitting seemed like a cop-out.  I needed to decide whether Jesus was for real, or whether He was just some amazing dude who got hijacked into religion.  I soon came to the realization that not only was Christianity a Jewish religion, but that Jesus really was the Messiah.  I was 28 when I got baptized in an old Episcopal church in rural Virginia.  I’ve never looked back.  And life’s never looked so good going forward.”   


       She then wrote for the Richmond Times-Dispatch for ten years.  It was while she was at the Richmond Times-Dispatch that two events occurred that would change her life forever:  she met her future Italian husband Joe and she met Raleigh Harmon.


       Raleigh came in stages. First, while I was a reporter at the Richmond paper. There was this grand yet dilapidated mansion on Monument Avenue that I passed on my walks downtown to work. Something about that place--the ivy crawling up the brick, the slate roof needing repairs, the overgrown magnolia trees--it gripped my imagination and told me a girl named Raleigh Harmon lived there.  It made no sense but I went with it. (Don’t argue with your subconscious).  I wrote some short stories with her.”


       Giorello also learned that there was a FBI mineralogy lab while reading an article by John McPhee in The New Yorker about forensic geology.


       “I remember sitting up, like a light-bulb moment. I had a degree in geology but didn’t know such a study existed. I called the FBI, got clearance, and drove from Richmond to Washington DC--eight months pregnant--to interview the geologists. They were smart and balanced and interested in justice, and gave me much more material than I could possibly use.  It wasn’t until the geology came into things that Raleigh really came alive.  Like she sprung up from the southern soil.


      To this day, I call on forensic geologists to help me research the Raleigh Harmon books, particularly Ray Murray (http://www.forensicgeology.net).  He wrote the seminal textbook on forensic geology along with a layman’s version, Evidence from the Earth.


During one of her research interviews one geologist mentioned a civil rights demonstration in New York City, where he had to repel a brick building to gather evidence.   Giorello used this information as a scene in Stones Cry Out where Raleigh Harmon has to rappel a brick building to gather geological evidence about a murder.


In the late 1990s she left the newspaper business to stay home with her young son, which she enjoyed, except for the continuous words of Goodnight Moon, which she feared was turning her brain into mush.


Out of desperation, and when her son was taking his nap, she wrote about the woman she met in her newspaper office, Raleigh Harmon and her adventures, and found herself writing what would be her first novel, Stones Cry Out.   She found herself fascinated by the real-life research as much as the writing-process itself.


When she learned her father had terminal cancer she had to stop writing Stones Cry Out for the next three years, in order to take care of her father, who moved from Alaska to Virginia to live with her, to care for her young son, to be a wife, and to continue working part time as a news reporter.  What kept her going were her faith and her focus on the scripture verse of Proverbs 11:25: He who waters will himself be watered.


At the end of the three-year-period, (after her father died, her in laws died, and she had her second son) her uncle took her out to lunch and presented her with a big check that enabled her to quit her part time reporter job and pursue her novel, which she did with full zest.


“Most feature writers, I believe, harbor some hopes of writing fiction, at some point. For me, the opportunity came when I was home with babies, bored out of my mind by diapers, naps, and drool. Don’t get me wrong; my kids are the greatest things that ever happened to me. But early motherhood is seventy-percent tedium. I didn’t want out of it, because it’s part of the whole experience, but it did make me feel a little nuts. I found that the claustrophobic feeling went away whenever I sat down to write, to dream with my eyes open. Within a couple weeks, Raleigh Harmon marched across the page. She kept me company while the kids napped.”


Her second time at real-life research for Stones Cry Out proved to be rewarding– experts from the FBI, forensics, and geology came out of the woodwork to help her.  Even still, the sweetest surprise was to learn that many of the FBI agents she interviewed were Christians and were proud to reveal to her that their faith helped inform their decisions in the investigations.


The Raleigh Harmon novels have so many elements in them:  murder, mystery, crime, forensics, geology, love, mental illness, family grief, but the most important element, according to Giorello, is Raleigh’s Christian faith and love for Christ.  In fact, Giorello’s main purpose in writing the Raleigh Harmon series was to write about a Christian who had real life experiences.  


“I wanted readers to see her Christian struggle, how a life of faith does not mean everything is sunshine and light.  On the contrary, we’re still tempted to sin, tempted to doubt, and we can experience moments when we wonder if God is really listening.  Those are the valleys we all walk through.  We’re not perfect.  But we are forgiven through grace.” 


Giorello’s faith in Christ has sustained her and more than proven to her that the Trinity God is real, and ever present.  When people ask her about her Christian faith and how it works in her life and in the lives of her characters, particularly Raleigh Harmon, Giorello uses an equation as a way to explain her Christian faith. 


“I tell them it’s kind of like a math equation you keep working on and working on but you just can’t understand it.  The theorem seems beyond your comprehension.  But one day, suddenly, you get it.  And once you get it, you can never “not get it.”  You understand on a profound level and there is no turning back toward not knowing.  There is only forward.  And More.”


Her typical day starts at 3 a.m. where she goes to her garret office, the window open, drinks odorant tea, and writes fast and furious without an outline for at least 800 to 1000 words, with silence as her background. 


She makes breakfast for two sons, and then while they are at school, writes some more, does household chores, then runs or bikes until about noon, helps her children with their homework, makes dinner, has family time, and then to bed for the night, and the process starts all over the next morning.


Giorello finds the time to read which she does voraciously – of course the Bible is the books she delves into the most but she also reads C.S. Lewis’s philosophy books, specifically Mere Christianity, and his fantasy series Chronicles of Narnia (https://www.cslewis.com/us); John Steinbeck’s East of Eden (http://www.steinbeck.org); Anne Tyler’s Dinner At the Homesick Restaurant (https://www.facebook.com/AnneTylerAuthor); Elmore Leonard (http://elmoreleonard.com/index.php); James Lee Burke (http://www.jamesleeburke.com); John D MacDonald (http://www.jdmhomepage.org/jdmhomepage.org/index.html);      Stephen King (http://stephenking.com); Kate Atkinson (http://www.kateatkinson.co.uk); Lloyd Alexander (http://us.macmillan.com/author/lloydalexander); and Madeleine L’Engle (http://www.madeleinelengle.com).















Her greatest inspiration is poetry, which she incorporates in each of her Raleigh Harmon novels.


“I find one poem that catches some essence of the story. I keep it posted while I write, then place it on the novel’s opening pages, hoping it connects to readers as well.


I like to use poems to warm up, too, so I dip into the verses near my computer before working on a chapter. This morning I read Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself.” Thrilling.


But my favorite poet is WH Auden. He writes with profound muscularity from a Christian perspective. Without being trite or sugar-coating, he lays bare our natural bent toward sin, and also God’s natural bent toward forgiveness.”


Giorello resides in Issaquah, Washington with her husband, two sons, a large dog, a sweet parakeet, and a Russian tortoise that could’ve worked for the KGB.   She continues to write and is appreciative to her readers.


I want to thank readers for being readers. While the rest of the world gets stories from films or television shows, readers persist--like some ancient sect who still want to commune with words on the page.  God bless us, every one.”






       If I thought I looked bad in the girls’ bathroom tonight, things have gotten worse.  Shadows circle my eyes.  My ponytail has drifted down to my shoulders, loose hair framing a face almost sheet-white.  For as long as I can remember, night has always scared me – not just the dark, but the fact that there’s going to be this long stretch of time when I’m all alone.  Even when my mom and dad used to let me crawl into bed with them, once they went to sleep, I was alone again.  Everyone else just slumbers until dawn.  But my mind only ramps up, the thoughts pinging through my head so fast I can’t follow them.  And then, as soon as I see that gray hit of light on the horizon, I suddenly feel like sleeping.  Because I stop worrying.  A little.
       But this night is the longest of my entire life
      
Excerpt from Stone And Spark
Page 63
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello   






       After my father died, I came across a newspaper story about a meteorite that landed in upstate New York.  The stone weighed 26 pounds and flew toward Earth at a speed approaching 33,000 miles an hour – roughly 4,000 times faster than the average cannonball and hurled by an asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter that express-delivers tons of geologic material every year, though most of it lands in the oceans.  But on this particular day the meteor hit a car, killing the mother and child inside.  The newspaper story quoted the husband, who kept asking, “Why?’  It was the same question I asked after my father’s murder.

       Excerpt from The Stones Cry Out
       Page 118
       Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello




       “Do we have a profile for the perp?”  I whispered.
       “We’ve been trying to call you,” she said.  “Where are you?”
       “Give me the profile.”
       “Raleigh, where --?”
       “I need, it now.”  I growled.
       “We think he wants to teach them a lesson.”  She said.  “It’s not just about money.  He’s torturing her, torturing them.   Raleigh, you have to-“
       I heard a knock on the bathroom door.
       “You all right?”  Jonathan asked.
       “Yes, I’m fine.”  I pressed the phone to my shoulder and reached down, flushing the toilet.
       I heard the floorboards creak, his steps following away.
       I lifted the phone.  “I’ll call you later.”
       “Tell me where you are.”
      
       Excerpt from The Rivers Run Dry
       Page 236
       Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello





       Her cold smile warmed with victory.  “Then you agree it was dangerous for her to go in there?”
       Pollard glanced at me.  His eyes held a mixture of disgust and admiration.  Phaup was so terribly good at painting people into corners.
       “Thank you, ma’am,” I said.  “I’m honored by your trust in me.”
       She opened her mouth.  Then closed it.  Her lips tightened.
       “Pollard,” she said, “give us a moment, will you?”
       He walked across the room, all too eager to leave.  When the door closed, Phaup reached into her red blouse and tugged.
       “Any undercover work will be strictly part-time,” she said.  “Your top priority remains this hate crime which I guess I need to remind you is still open.  Have you seen the news stories, Raleigh?  Either you close this by month’s end, or –“
       “I’m heading out there as soon as we finish here.”
       She smiled, frigidly.
       “Then go,” she said.  “We’re finished here.”

       Excerpt from The Clouds Roll Away
       Pages 159-160
       Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello




       Closing it carefully, tucking it under my left arm, I could feel my pulse tapping against the Bible.
       She was standing.
       Her eyes were no longer dull.  Polished bright, they seem to see me.  She lifted her hands and opened her fingers and I felt something chilling on my spine.
       Her hand moved toward her face.
       “No – Mom – no!”
       With her hands, she clawed her cheeks.  The scratches went white before blood rose like crimson ribbons.  I ran toward her and she backed away, unblinking and scared.
       We stared at one another, suspended in time.
Breathe.  Breathe.
Looking into my eyes, she drew nails down her face once more.  I reached down for my belt, fumbling for the phone, hitting Redial.
“It’s me,” I said.
“What now?”  Geert asked.
She was pulling her hands away, marveling at the glistening red on her nails.
“Help,” I said.

Excerpt from The Mountains Bow Down
Pages 196-197
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello   




The TSA agent took the guy’s driver’s license and ran a small penlight over it, searching for falsification.
“Please,” I said, feeling ill with groveling.  “He’s my fiancé.”
“Trouble already, huh?”
I glanced back.  DeMott had walked through the arches and now stood at the conveyer belt.
“DeMott!”  I yelled
The faces swiveled toward me.
“DEMOTT!”
The TSA guy moved in front of me.  “Hey, knock it off.”
But my dignity was already on the floor.  So I tried again, louder.
“DEMOTT!”
“Do it again,” the agent said, “I’ll have you detained.
I didn’t doubt it.  Taking me into custody would make this guy’s day.  He could convince himself his job actually mattered.  And OPR would salivate hearing about my problem.
I watched DeMott shrug into the jacket.
“That’s more like it.” The TSA guy moved down the line.
DeMott picked up his leather bag.
I whispered.  “Turn around.”
He walked toward the gates, walking away.
“Please.”
Suddenly he stopped.  He was patting down his pockets, as if he’d forgotten something.
“Please, DeMott.  Turn around.”
But he never did.

Excerpt from The Starts Shine Bright
Pages 244-245
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello


Photograph Description And Copyright Information

Photo 1
Sibella Giorello
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 2
Snow scene
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 3
Image of stones
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 4
Jacket covers of books 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.
Not included is the prequel Stone And Spark

Photo 5
Image of Duke’s Real Mayonnaise
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 6
Sibella Giorello
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 7
Etching of settlement in Kodiak, Alaska in 1791
Public Domain

Photo 8
St. Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church
Juneau, Alaska
Sour University of Washington Libraries
Public Domain

Photo 9a
Sibella Giorello’s mother in a model spread for Town & Country Magazine
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 9b
Judicial portrait of the Alaska Supreme Court, 1968-1970.
Sibella Giorello’s father is Justice Roger Connor, second from left.
(L-R) Justice John Dimond, Justice Roger Connor, Chief Justice Buell Nesbett, Justice George Boney, and Justice Jay Rabinowitz.
Public Domain

Photo 10
Sibella Giorello
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 11a
French jacket book cover of the 1931 Historie De Babar Le Petit Elephant

Photo 11b
Jean de Brunhoff (author of the Babar series)
Public Domain

Photo 12
A Country School
Painted in 1890
Attributed to Edward Lanson Henry
Public Domain

Photo 13
Young Girl Learning To Write
Painted from 1870-1874
Attributed to Henriette Browne
Located at the Victoria & Albert Museum in London
Public Domain

Photo 14
Sibella Giorello, her pet dog, and one of her sons
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 15
Alaska landscape
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 16
Sibella Giorello horseback riding
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 17
Sibella Giorello’s mother in a model spread for Town & Country Magazine
Photo shopped
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 18
Painting by Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida
Public Domain

Photo 19/20
Sibella Giorello
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 21
Holyoke College seal
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 22
Jesus For Jews Logo
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright law

Photo 23
Alaska landscape of Sawyer Glacier, Tracy Arm
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 24
Mrs. Sam Craford helps with tobacco harvesting in her husband’s farm in Maryland.
Photo taken on 10/8/1943
National Archives and Record Administrative C.R.
Public Domain

Photo 25
Sibella Giorello with a dragonfly on her shoulder
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 26
Sibella Giorello writing
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 27a
Winslow Homer in 1880
Attributed to Napoleon Sarong (1821-1896)
Public Domain

Photo 27b
The Green Hill
Watercolor, gouache, and graphite on gray green paper faded brown
Painted in 1878
Attributed to Winslow Homer
Located at the National Gallery of Art
Public Domain

Photo 28
Honda Revel MC32
Boujahn 1997
CC by SA 3.0

Photo 29
Jacket cover of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Photo 30
Collies On Guard
Painted in 1873
Attributed to George Horlor

Photo 31 and 32
A Woman Reading A Newspaper
Oil on Wood
Painted in 1891
Attributed to Norman Garstin

Photo 33.
The Rocket cover issue #299
Artwork by Pat Moriarity (pencil and color)
Artwork by Jim Blanchard (inks)
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright law

Photo 34a.
Jacket cover of The Rocket
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright law

Photo 34b.
Charles Cross
Copyright granted by Charles Cross

Photo 35a.
Matt Groening at a comic conference in San Diego
07/24/2010
Attributed to Gage Skidmore
CCASA 3.0 Unported.

Photo 35b.
Comic image of The Simpson Family
2009 20th Century Fox Film Clip
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 36
Corona typewriter
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 37.
Film clip fro His Girl Friday starring Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell as newspaper reporters.
His Girl Friday was released on January 11, 1940
Public Domain

Photo 38
Sibella Giorello
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 39
19th Century Painting of a tent revival
Public Domain

Photo 40
Old Swede's Church (Holy Trinity) in Swedesboro, NJ. On NRHP since January 29, 1973. At NW corner of Church St. and King's Hwy. Congregation founded about 1700 as a Swedish Lutheran Church with services in Swedish, but became Anglican then Episcopal Church built in 1786
Public Domain

Photo 41
Sibella and Joe Giorello
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 42.
Image of Virginia mansions
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 43.
John McPhee
Attributed to Office of Communications, Princeton University.
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 44
Pregnant woman at a WIC clinic in Virginia
Photo shopped
Attributed to Ken Hammond
United States Department of Agriculture
Public Domain

Photo 45.
Jacket cover of Evidence From The Earth

Photo 46
FBI Jacksonville SWAT Team members rappelling for a FBI Appreciation Luncheon
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 47a
Jacket cover of Goodnight Moon

Photo 47b
Jacket cover of Stones Cry Out

Photo 48
Christ And The Good Samaritan At The Well
Attributed to Jan Joest Van Cakar (1450-1519)
Painted in 1508
Public Domain

Photo 49. and 50.
Painting of mother and two sons
Gustav Klimt (07/14/1864 – 02/06/1918)
Public Domain

Photo 51.
Raleigh Harmon running
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 52.
Sibella Giorello/Raleigh Harmon with gun
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 53.
Cross
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 54.
Christ of Saint John of the Cross
Oil on canvas by Salvador Dali in 1951
Located at the Kelvingrove Art Gallery & Museum Glasgow
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright law

Photo 55
The Forgiveness Equation
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 56.
Sibella Giorello horseback riding
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 57
Sibella Giorello
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 58
Sibella Giorello
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 59a
C.S. Lewis at age 50
Attributed to Arthur Strong
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 59b.
Jacket cover of Mere Christianity

Photo 59c
U.S Edition of HarperCollins’s Chronicles of Narnia
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law 

Photo 59d
John Steinbeck in Sweden during his trip to accept the Nobel Prize For Literature
1962
Public Domain

Photo 59e
1st edition cover of East of Eden

Photo 59f
Anne Tyler’s Facebook photo
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 59g
Jacket cover of Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant

Photo 59h
Elmore Leonard web photo
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 59i
James lee Burke web page photo
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 59j
John D MacDonald
Public Domain

Photo 59k
American author best known for his enormously popular horror novels. King was the 2003 recipient of The National Book Foundation's Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters. Taken at the 2007 New York Comic con.

Photo 59l
Kate Atkinson at Edinburgh International Book Festival
08/18/2007
Attributed to Tim Duncan
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 59m
Lloyd Alexander
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 59n
Madeleine L’Engle in 2005
Attributed to Square Fish Books
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 60
Image of tea and The Mountains Bow Down
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 61
Poet and Christian Christine Rossetti (12/05/1830 to 12/29/1894)
Attributed to Rossetti’s brother
Public Domain

Photo 62
American poet Walt Whitman. This image was made in 1887 in New York, by photographer George C. Cox. The image is said to have been Whitman's favorite from the photo-session; Cox published about seven images for Whitman, who so admired this image that he even sent a copy to the poet Tennyson in England. Whitman sold the other copies.
George C Cox 9 1851-1903, photo  Library of Congress P.D>
Adam Cuerden (1979 - , restoration)

Photo 63
WH Auden
Attributed to Carl Van Vechter (1880 – 1964)
Library of Congress

Photo 64.
Giorello Family Photograph
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 65.
Sibella Giorello
Copyright granted by Sibella Giorello

Photo 66a
Front jacket cover of Stone And Spark

Photo 66b
Back jacket cover of Stone And Spark

Photo 67a
Front jacket cover of The Stones Cry Out

Photo 67b
Back jacket cover of The Stones Cry Out

Photo 68a
Front jacket cover of The Rivers Run Dry

Photo 68b
Back jacket cover of The Rivers Run Dry

Photo 69a
Front jacket cover of The Clouds Roll Away

Photo 69b
Back jacket cover of The Clouds Roll Away

Photo 70a
Front jacket cover of The Mountains Bow Down

Photo 70b
Back jacket cover of The Mountains Bow Down

Photo 71a
Front jacket cover of The Stars Shine Bright

Photo 71b
Back jack

Monday, February 23, 2015

Visual Poem by Children's Writer Christina Lewis - "MARSHMALLOW GROVE"

Christal Cooper  549Words



MARSHMALLOW GROVE
By Christina Lewis


I remember apple pie
And sitting by Mother's side
While she read a book of tales,
Legends from the world outside.




They said there was a lost place
Beyond the realm of reason
Where marshmallows grow on trees
And snow falls out of season.




With that vision in my head,
I took every coin I owned
And left the warm fires of home,
Swept into the great unknown.




I ran through the rising storms
To the knife's edge of the world,
And set free a yellow scarf
While the sky turned all to gold.




So I chased the last lone star
And pulled the sword from the stone,
Fought a forest of mushrooms
And set the king on his throne.




I sailed across seven seas
On eleven ships that sank;
The tears of parted lovers met
In the salty brew I drank.




I caught a flame red stallion
Made of fire and thunder,
Rode into the lair of thieves
And scattered all their plunder.




The priceless jewels of the age
Became pebbles on the ground,
The Florentine Diamond
Sold for thirteen cents a pound.




I found the Hill of Wisdom
Where dreams grew like flowers,
And hope rained down from heaven
In endless April showers.




I danced through the rain,
A rain of falling roses,
And tiptoed through the valley
Where the giant whale dozes.




In the land of winter snow
I built a castle made of ice,
But when the hot sun came out,
I restored the south wall twice.




Beyond the broken desert
I set that red stallion free,
Bid farewell to the wasteland,
Where my heart will always be.




In the Mountains of Spices
My hands were filled with gold,
I gathered myrrh and saffron,
All my pockets overflowed.


Down again I came to earth,
Riding in an avalanche,
Which melted in red rivers,
And the mountain turned to ash.




The Northern Lights curled blue-green
Through the halls of ancient kings,
Past the vaults of starry gems
I found The End of All Things.




There was nowhere else to go
Where the known land fell away,
Once a thousand years had passed,
The last sunset faded gray.




The mountains came to an end,
The sea left me high and dry,
I leaped into the blue moon,
Trust and faith taught me to fly.




Before I knew where time went
My old hair turned winter white,
Still my paradise was lost,
Eclipsed by solitary flight.




I'd pursued every last dream
That happy chance brought my way,
But when adventures ended
I was left on the highway.




Though I once had everything,
My restless soul yearned to roam,
Now I'd seen the universe,
I just wanted to go home.




I took the few coins I had
And bought a ticket - one-way,
I took the last midnight train
And slept beside the subway.




Night had fallen when I came
To that old familiar door,
Apple pie cooled on the stove,
The table was set for four.




The child slept in the cradle
As I sat beside the hearth,
And picked up the yellowed book
To read tales I'd always heard.




There, at last, I found the place
Beyond the realm of reason
Where marshmallows grow on trees
And snow falls out of season 



Photograph Description And Copyright Information

Photo 1
Portrait of a mother and daughter reading a book
Attributed to Edwin Harris (1855-1906)
painting made in 1903

Photo 2
Bradford Pear Tree
Fair USe Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 3
Boy holding foreign coins on a map
Modeled by Nicholas Cooper
Copyright by Christal Rice Cooper

Photo 4
Photoshopped images of yellow scarf and sky

Photo 5
Photoshopped image of NASA photo attributed and photo of 9 year old boy
Modeled by Caleb Cooper
Copyright by Christal Rice Cooper

Photo 6
Ship Running Around In A Starm
Oil Painting on Canvas
Attributed to Ludolf Backhuysen (12/28/1630 to 11/17/1708)
Public Domain

Photo 7
Blazing Horse wall paper
Free Download
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law 

Photo 8
Florentine Diamond
Public Domain

Photo 9
"April Showers" film clip from "Bambi"
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 10 
Scenes from Moby Dick, also applicable to Jonah and the Big Fish that swallowed him.
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 11
Elsa's Ice Castle From Walt Disney's "Frozen"
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright law

Photo 12
Whistle Jacket
Horse painting in the Romanticism Style 
1761
Attributed to George Stubbs (8/25/1724 to 7/10/1806)

Photo 13 
Jacket cover of "Mountains of Spices"

Photo 14
Glowing lava flow on the coastal plain of Kilauea in Hawaii United States
1986
United Stages Geological Serv.
Public Domain

Photo 15
Northern Lights
Public Domain

Photo 16
Gray Sunset
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 17
Horse leaping into the Moon
Attributed to Christina Lewis, of Lightning Art
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis.

Photo 18
Snow woman
Attribution unknown
Public Domain

Photo 19
Snow on the mountains of Southern California
Attribution unknown
CC BY 3.0

Photo 20
Woman following the rainbow back home
Modeled by Regina Hughes
Copyright by Christal Rice Cooper and Regina Hughes

Photo 21
Photoshopped image of painting of train station and woman with rainbow umbrella
Modeled by Regina Hughes
Copyright by Christal Rice Cooper and Regina Hughes

Photo 22
Dining room table set for four
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 23
Little boy reading
Modeled by Caleb Cooper
Copyright by Christal Rice Cooper

Photo 24
Little boy in the Marshmallow Tree
Modeled by Caleb Cooper
Copyright by Christal Rice Cooper