Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Professional Ghostwriter and Editor Christina Lewis introduces Captain Pepper Jack of Cheddar Island . . .

Christal Cooper 
1,992 Words  /    4,221 words with excerpt  


Christina Lewis:
One Book At A Time



Professional ghostwriter Christina Lewis, 30, can now call herself a novelist.  Her first novel, geared for ages 8 to 14, is The Cheese Pirates: Cheddar Island, http://www.amazon.com/Cheese-Pirates-Cheddar-Island/dp/1496005538/ref=sr_1_1_twi_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1418866290&sr=81&keywords=The+Pirate%27s+Cheddar+Island+-+book which was published by Galleon Books (http://galleonbooks.com) this past June of 2014.



Lewis is the oldest of five.  Her father, Michael Lewis, is a professional jazz/blues musician and world-class guitarist.  Her family lived in numerous states (Tennessee, Washington, and Oregon) and traveled extensively to give concerts and workshops around the country.  As a result, all five children were homeschooled and never attended a traditional school.  Because of this, Lewis grew up with a great love for adventure — and for books and storytelling.


When she was seven years old, she read Black Beauty, which made her cry and led her to two revelations. 



“It was really remarkable.  I don’t cry easily, so to have something make me cry — to move me to that depth of emotion — was a very powerful experience for me.  I realized that people had written these stories; that they didn’t just magically appear in books.  And from that time forward, I knew I wanted to be a writer.  The very first story I wrote was Rosie The Deer.  It was very simplistic and would definitely quality as a children’s book today.”


       Another book would cross Lewis’s path and make an incredible mark on her life.  It was November of 1995, when Lewis was 11 years old, and the family traveled to Minnesota on a concert tour where her father was performing.  In Minnesota, the family met a teacher who gave Lewis a copy of Indian In the Cupboard by Lynne Reid Banks (http://www.lynnereidbanks.com/index.html), and Lewis fell in love with the book — even more so than she had fallen in love with Black Beauty.



“When I read the book, I was enchanted by it.  It had such a profound impact on me because the writing was so good.  It was such a fast-paced book and kept you on the edge of your seat.  The characters were so real that you could believe [that] somewhere in England, there is a boy who has a 3-inch Indian and he can make toys come to life from his cupboard.


“One of the scenes that really stood out to me in the book was where the main character Omri allows this Indian to choose one horse.  The Indian says, ‘Just one?’  And Omri says, ‘I cannot have herds of horses galloping all over my room.’  I love horses, so much, of course.  The idea of having a herd of horses galloping all over in my room was amazing, almost indescribable.”


In 2003, when Lewis was 19, her family completed a three-month northwest tour.  They temporarily settled in St. Louis, where Lewis worked 80 hours a week at the mall during the Christmas season.  


During that time, she read The Lord of The Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien for the first time.  She was totally enthralled by the story and decided to write her own novel.



“I’d work seven days a week, 80 hours a week, and then come home and write for three to four hours a night.  I finished the book in two months and had it edited in two more months.”


Lewis submitted her 100,000-word manuscript to Arbor Books , based in New York City, New York — only to be offered a job as a ghostwriter.  She has been on staff for Arbor Books ever since.  http://www.arborbooks.com


“It was really quite remarkable how I ended up in the industry.  So I’ve written memoirs, fiction books in various genres, a screenplay; and I enjoyed it immensely.  I’ve done everything from ghostwriting to editing, to helping people complete their own outlines in preparation for writing their own books, to story consulting — which is one of my favorite things.  I love story consulting, and watching another story and its characters and its plot take shape is just near and dear to my heart.”


       In 2005, Lewis and her family returned to Nashville, Tennessee, where Lewis experienced — on a very remarkable sunny morning — what would be her first conceived idea of The Cheese Pirates: Cheddar Island.


       “I remember it very clearly.  A friend sent me an instant message and I was talking with him.  And for whatever reason, I was in a very comedic mood.  He asked me how my day was going and I just made up this wild story about mice sailing around in my kitchen in plastic margarine tubs and fighting with knives and forks over the cheese in my refrigerator.  I called them the Cheese Pirates.  It was completely off the cuff (and) it was hilarious.  I knew, when I made all of that up, that I would need to do something with it — from a writer’s perspective — later on.”    


       For the next three years, she wrote down ideas for her cheese pirate mice and their adventures on scrap pieces of paper and placed them in a plastic butter container. 


       “I’d take paper and scribble random notes into it about different ideas, different characters, their sidekicks and their attributes and what makes them who they are as characters.”


       In 2008, the family moved to Spokane, Washington, and Lewis dug into that butter tub of ideas and considered developing the story into a novel.   


       “I arranged the characters — in a sense — like a chessboard.  It wasn’t intentional that way, but as I started to draw up the characters I realized the different characters fit in the role of chess pieces.”


Developing the story into a novel included more than writing, but research.  Much of her research was unintentionally conducted on the road, which included a brief visit to Lake Erie in 1995.


       “I was very moved by Lake Erie.  I visited Lake Erie on a stormy day and it looked just like an ocean, and you couldn’t see the other side and there were waves.  Later on, in conjunction with Cheese Pirates, it would be like a sea for mice; and of course I automatically assumed that the Cheese Pirates would be based in Wisconsin.”  


       Lewis’s youngest brother, Jordan, had other ideas of where the pirates would be based.  At his sister’s request, he found the best location for her Cheese Pirates.


       “He went onto Google Maps and a couple of hours later he said, ‘Christina, I want you to take a look at this. I found the perfect place for your Cheese Pirates.’  And he pulled up a map of Tillamook Bay and it was pretty incredible.”


       Tillamook Bay is actually located on the Oregon coast in the Pacific Ocean; but in Lewis’s world it is the wonder cheddar land belonging only to her mice pirates who explore the area of Tillamook Bay: The Isle of Bleu Cheese, Cheddarton, the Black Castle, Mermouse Cove, and Mouseport.



       Lewis also spent two years researching pirates, both imaginary and real, and the impact that pirates had on history.


“I found out how instrumental they were in both the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812, for instance.  I hadn’t realized what a role they actually played in world politics until I started doing all this research on them. 


“And then I did research on literary pirates, the legends of pirates, and I ended up finding a movie called Captain Blood.  I was leery of the title at first (because) I don’t like anything that is really gory, but it was done in 1935 and I decided to watch it.  I was completely captured by it immediately. 


“It introduced an actor named Errol Flynn, and it was his first role.  Errol Flynn rose to stardom overnight because of the movie Captain Blood.  Hollywood has not seen, before or since, a rise to stardom quite like his.  He was just amazing in Captain Blood, a true ship’s captain.” 


Captain Blood is about Dr. Peter Blood, who dedicates his life to helping individuals on both sides of the Monmouth Rebellion, in which a coup tried to overthrow King James II after he succeeded the throne upon the death of his older brother Charles II.  Dr. Blood is sentenced to death for treason against King James II.  King James II decides to sell Dr. Blood into slavery for profit.  Arabella Bishop (portrayed by Olivia de Havilland), the niece of the local commander Colonel Bishop (portrayed by Lionel Atwill), purchases Dr. Blood as her slave, where he labors in the South American plantation fields and is treated very badly, despite her many efforts to make his life better.  Eventually Dr. Blood saves a town from being invaded by Spanish pirates, and manages, with his fellow slaves, to seize control of the Spanish pirate ship and thus becomes the Pirate Captain Blood.


In Lewis’s young adult novel, Pepper Jack is a charismatic leader like Captain Peter Blood.  Pepper Jack, in order to save a sea mouse, leaps down a sea monster's throat.  A sea mouse that Pepper Jack tries to save could symbolize Dr. Peter Blood’s patients on both sides of the rebellion.  And, like Dr Peter Blood is punished for trying to save lives; Pepper Jack is punished for trying to save the sea mouse's life, which gets him thrown out of the West Tillamook Trading Company.  His career is over - until the WTTC desperately needs a hero.  The PiRats, equivalent of Captain Blood's Spanish pirates, have invaded Tillamook bay.  Merchant galleons with rich cargos of cheese and root beer never return from the dreaded Ghost Lagoon.  Seamice desert the docks in droves.  Leading a brave crew against the PiRats' black fleet, Pepper Jack has one chance to defeat Tillamook Bay's greatest adversary - and one last chance at redemption. 


I basically created this mini-sailing cultureseamice, and instead of horses and wagons, they have rabbit-drawn carriages and rabbit caravans.  They ship in all of their goods by rabbit caravans.  It’s all very elaborate and it turned into its own culture but, instead of being a part of our world, it’s somewhere slightly removed.” 


Of course, reading a book is much easier than writing one, and for Lewis, writing The Cheese Pirates:  Cheddar Island was no easy task.  It too lots of hard work, lots of research, and even Divine Inspiration.   


"It was December of 2009 and Mom had decorated our living room for Christmas (and) there were blue lights on the mantle.  We had this model ship - a clipper - sitting on the mantle next to a couple of Beanie Babies.  the lights were all off in the living room, and I walked into the living room and the blue lights were shining on the hull of the clipper and these two Beanie Baby characters and I stood there.  It was like Divine Inspiration and I can't put it any other way.  And I saw them (my characters) and I saw it (the story), and it was so clear.  I walked into the kitchen and said, 'Mom, my hero's name is Captan Pepper Jack and he sails on the Parmesan.  My mom completely fell in love with the idea and I went right upstairs and finished the writing what would be the Cheese Pirates."  


Most of the writing of The Cheese Pirates:  Cheddar Island took place in her loft room of her family home in Spokane, Washington, located in a valley at the foothills of the mountains surrounded by pine trees.  


"There is a fireplace and windows that overlook the pine forest and it's beautiful up there.  And that room really gets sunny." 


Once the novel was completed and published, Lewis made the next step of getting The Cheese Pirates endorsed by writers she adored, and the writer to top her list was Lynne Reid Banks, author of The Indian In the Cupboard.  


"Lynne Reid Banks agreed to endorse The Cheese Pirates Cheddar Island.  She actually read it, loved it and endorsed it, which is so incredible because I studied her book so much as a kid."     


Lewis splits her time between the family-home in Spokane, Washington, and her apartment that she shares with her two brothers in Seattle, Washington.



The Shark’s Mouth Tavern was crowded with retired sailormice that evening, all guzzling root beer and playing card games. A grasshopper struck up a lively tune on his fiddle, nestling the instrument between his wings and using his hind leg as a bow. A mouse hammered out chords on the standup piano, and their audience accompanied them with boot stomping and clapping and loud shouts. Several gentlemice and their pretty mouseladies whirled and laughed on the dance floor.
Pepper Jack burst through the double doors and found himself in the middle of a party. Several mice looked up at Jack, but most went back to their activities—except for two rough-looking seamice seated at a table near the door.
“Hey.” One mouse nudged the other. “That’s him.”
The other grunted, his eyes glittering with ill intent.
Jack never noticed them. Redemption, at last, was within his grasp. If he held the good news inside for much longer, he’d surely explode. His gaze swept over the exuberant throng, then he grinned and strode to the counter. He thumped a burly mouse on the back.
“Evenin’, Somerset Brie! Long time no see!”
Brie glanced over his shoulder. “Why, if it isn’t Pepper Jack. Where’ve you been the last two months, you rascal? I almost sent the SOS sparrows to find you!”
Jack leaned against the counter, nearly shouting over the din. “The master of a rabbit train keeps busy, you know—but not too busy to catch up with his best friend.”
Brie’s eyebrows curled mischievously. “I know you well enough to tell when there’s more to it than that, Jack. Sit down, and we’ll have a round of root beers on me.”
“You’re too kind, my old shipmate.”
“Just trying to whet your whistle, is all.” The mischievous expression didn’t last long on a good-natured face like Brie’s, and he smiled as he snapped his fingers at the busy bartender.
“In due time, my friend,” promised Jack, selecting a stool beside Brie. “What’s new with you?”
“Not much, really.” Brie huddled closer to Jack so they could talk over the noise. “Actually, I’m thinking of compiling legends from Tillamook Bay.”
Jack stared at him. “You’re writing a book?”
Brie shrugged. “Not yet, but I want to. Ordinary mousefolk might enjoy tales from an old seadog like myself, and I could earn a little extra coin to hasten my retirement.”
The bartender slid a mug across the polished counter. Jack expertly caught it, sloshing foam over the rim. “What sort of tales did you have in mind?”
“Oh, the usual fare,” answered Brie, catching his own mug. “How Mermouse Cove got its name, the dreaded Eagle’s Stare, the legend of Cheddar Island—”
“Wait, what?” Jack looked up from slurping foam. “What’s the legend of Cheddar Island?”
“Oh, you haven’t heard that one? I’ve known it all my life. Cheddar Island is a forgotten cave where PiRats of old supposedly hid their treasure. The stories tell of vast caverns full of aged cheese, the finest apple cider, ancient root beer…”
Jack gulped. “You’re making me hungry.” He lifted a paw and flagged down the bartender. “A plate of cheese curls, if you please.”
Brie stared thoughtfully into his mug. “They say Cheddar Island’s treasure was stolen from all over the world, and that great fortune—and great perils—will come to the mouse who finds it.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “An excellent tale of mystery and adventure. Well told, Brie. Your book holds a lot of promise.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“You’re welcome. How is Asiago and life at the Mouseport Inn?”
“Can’t complain, really.” The bartender approached, and Brie reached for a cheese curl before the plate touched the counter. “Asiago lurks in the stable loft to throw alfalfa down for the rabbits, and he has keen ears. He hears all the Mouseport gossip and repeats it to me later. I take care of the rabbit steeds—brushing them down, feeding and watering them. Several traveling mice frequent the inn, and their rabbits have become very friendly when they see me.”
“A rabbit always loves the paws that feed it,” observed Jack with a chuckle. He reached for a cheese curl, then changed his mind. His secret took precedence over his appetite. “Does Asiago still talk of joining the rabbit trains?”
“Talk about it?” Brie laughed around a mouthful of orange crumbs. “He won’t shut up about it! He about fell out of the loft when he found out you’d been made a rabbit train master, and he lives for the day you’ll come and take us away. Say, is that what brings you here, aside from the reputation of the root beer? Has a position opened up?”
“Well, there is a position,” conceded Jack. “I’ve come to ask you to leave your job behind, and also to postpone your illustrious writing career and retirement, but it isn’t what you think. Does the mention of PiRats mean anything to you?”
Brie looked puzzled. “Aye, Jack, but it’s all tales these days. There’s a fair chance that PiRats once sailed in Tillamook Bay, but they’re ancient history now. Old Salt Gouda has been spreading myths about a new group of rats terrorizing the shipping lines.”
“Who’s Old Salt Gouda?” wondered Jack.
Brie subtly aimed a thumb at a pale yellow mouse in the corner. Old Salt Gouda hunched over a mug of root beer, staring into it with strange ruby eyes.
Jack tugged thoughtfully at his whiskers, studying Old Salt Gouda as Brie leaned close and continued. “He claims that a black ship haunts the mouth of Mermouse Cove—or Ghost Lagoon, as he calls it. They come out of nowhere and waylay unlucky ships traveling that route. Then they steal the cargo, enslave the crew, and leave the hulking shipwreck as a warning. Imaginative tale, really. Perhaps I’ll put it in my book.”
Brie chuckled, but Jack swirled his mug and watched the dark liquid slosh around. “Except for the ghost ship, the rest is true.”
“Come on, Jack.” Brie whopped him on the back. “You’ve listened to wild tales from seamice fresh off the Ricotta’s lifeboats. Remember another shipwrecked crew from a decade ago that managed to survive at sea for three weeks? Our own Gouda was one of them. The SOS Sparrows dragged in the poor souls half-starved and nigh crazy, and they spread talk of a giant squid that emerged from the deep, coiled all its arms around their galleon, and ate it.” Brie laughed. “Imagine, a kraken choking down a wooden ship with all paws aboard, sails and ropes and all, and cheese and root beer in the hold! Those loony mice were the laughingstock of Mouseport, and no wonder.”
Jack studied Brie with a calculating glint in his eye. “The kraken aside, would you believe a tale about PiRats from the captain himself?”
“Captain Stilton?” Brie scoffed. “I heard Stilton didn’t make it, and I’m more apt to believe that. I served under Stilton for five years. I know him. He’d follow the rulebook straight to the bottom of the sea or die trying. He’d have gone down with his ship simply because it’s tradition. But if he were captured, he’d consider it his duty to escape and liberate the others. The PiRats likely would’ve made an example of him and forced him to walk the plank by now. Whoever said he abandoned the Ricotta spun enough yarn to knit a sweater for a sea monster.”
Jack swilled half his root beer, plunked his mug on the counter, and grinned. “Here’s a tale you won’t believe, Brie. Stilton most certainly survived—unless I’ve been speaking with his ghost, that is. I spent the lunch hour as his honored guest in the commodore’s office.”
Brie stared at Jack, then burst out laughing. “Very funny, Jack, but I haven’t had quite enough root beer to swallow that one!” He saluted Jack with a hoist of his mug and had another swig.
Jack’s grin widened until he looked more cat than mouse. “They were all manner of pleasant to me—the commodore and Captain Stilton both. The commodore not only reinstated me as a seamouse, but he offered me the command of the Parmesan.”
Brie sputtered and choked on his root beer. “Enough of your jokes, Pepper Jack. Any more of them, and I’m liable to drown—on land, no less!”
“Is that an order, Commander?”
Brie stiffened, then slowly lowered his mug. “I—I beg your pardon?”
Jack looked fit to burst. “It defies the chain of command, for a first mate to be issuing orders to his captain, but I suppose we could make an exception for old time’s sake.”
Brie stared blankly at his best friend. Jack laughed and thumped him on the back as the music ended. Applause filled the Shark’s Mouth, and Jack leaned close to Brie again, abruptly serious.
“It’s not a joke, Brie. Commodore Roquefort offered me the Parmesan because he wants to rid Tillamook Bay of PiRats and rescue the seamice. I’m here to ask you to be my first mate. What say you to that?”
Before Brie could dredge up an intelligent response, an eerie voice interrupted them. “It’ll end in disaster, mark me words!”
Jack and Brie looked over their shoulders to find Old Salt Gouda hovering behind them, his crazed ruby eyes gleaming over grizzled gray whiskers. Gouda’s threadbare tunic was grimy from a life spent haunting the docks, and the strong smells of old cheese and too much root beer wafted around him.
“Oh, aye? What’ll end in disaster, pray tell?” wondered Jack.
“All yer plans, ye whey-faced barnacle,” retorted Gouda, folding his arms over his ratty tunic. “Ye don’t know this sea!”
Brie exchanged glances with Jack. “How much did you hear, Old Salt?”
Gouda turned his challenging glare on Brie. “I heard enough, ya woodenheaded scupperlout. I know yer breed o’ labbermice, an’ I say ye pups have no bizz-niss sailin’ these treacherous waters! But young an’ foolish ye are, and ye won’t take the word o’ a true seamouse with saltwater runnin’ strong in his veins.” A crazier light entered his red eyes, and he came so close to Jack that the powerful odor of stale cheese nearly knocked him over. “Ye don’t know the PiRats.”
“Nor do I intend to become acquainted with them, me hearty,” answered Jack cheerfully, leaning beyond reach of Gouda’s toxic breath. “They don’t sound very pleasant.”
“An’ ye can crack jokes, ye saucy rogue!” Gouda straightened up with an expression of pitying contempt. “I’ve heard tell o’ ye, Pepper Jack, an’ while ye be a strappin’ fine specimen, ye lack a vital feature: Brains. Ye’re a thunderin’ madmouse to take back to sea, chasin’ rats an’ temptin’ fate, after ye were lucky enough to see another sunrise at the other end o’ leapin’ down a monster’s gullet. Whaddaya think ya are, a bloomin’ cat? Ye haven’t got nine lives!”
Jack smiled, amused. “No, indeed, I have but one life. It’s plenty for me, thank you, and I shall have my fill of adventure before it’s over.”
Gouda shook his head gravely. “Ye confounded urchin, haven’t ye ears? Ye won’t have no more adventures after ye meet the dread PiRats, an’ no mistake. Mark me words—both o’ ye. The PiRats are the blackest kind o’ plague that ever darkened the seas—blacker, even, than the devil kraken that ate me ship! Some o’ the best seamice in the Company perished that day, rest their souls, an’ ye young whelps aim to lock horns with the truest scourge o’ the sea there ever was. Where be the sense in that?”
“More sense than sitting here in the Shark’s Mouth, swilling root beer,” said Brie quietly.
Gouda stared openmouthed at Brie. Just as his whiskers began to bristle with outrage, Jack chuckled and clapped his shoulder.
“Easy, mate. My friend here means that we have not yet had our fill of the sea, but we thank you for your advice. Perhaps you have not yet had your fill of root beer?”
Scowling, Gouda shook off Jack’s paw and scratched his grungy ear. “I reckon I can call for me own drink,” he grumbled.
Jack snapped his fingers at the bartender. “I insist. I’ve heard that your drinking skills are legendary. If Tillamook Bay were made of root beer instead of water, you’d have drunk us dry by now, and there’d be no sailing for anymouse.”
Gouda blinked at Jack, at a loss for words. Before he could think up a retort, he found another mug of root beer thrust into his paws. Muttering to himself in the most colorful terms about foolish young seamice, Gouda carried his prize to a corner table—parting the crowd with his signature aroma—and hunched over it to resume his silent contemplation.
Grinning, Jack sat down as the musicians struck up another tune. “And that, as they say, is that.”
Brie saluted Jack with his mug. “You’ve become quite the diplomat, Pepper Jack,” he commented, gulping down root beer. “I shall enjoy seeing you and Captain Stilton spar once again. This time, he may come out on the short end!”

       Excerpt from The Pirates Cheddar Cheese Island
       Chapter 7

       Copyright granted by Christina Lewis



Photograph Description And Copyright Information

Photo 1
Christina Lewis
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 2
Jacket cover of The Cheese Pirates Cheddar Island 

Photo 3
Web logo for Galleon Books

Photo 4
The Lewis Family (Christina is sitting far right)
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 5
Cover of the novel Black Beauty, first edition 1877, published by London: Jarrold and Sons
Public Domain

Photo 6
Anna Sewell
Attributor Unknown
Public Domain

Photo 7
Christina leaning on the back of her little Paso Fino, Mika. Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 8
Jacket cover The Indian In The Cupboard 

Photo 9
Jacket cover of a biography on Lynne Reid Banks by Sherri
Sheri Liberman

Photo 10
Movie poster of The Indian In The Cupboard
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 11
Image of horses galloping
Attributed to Christina Lewis
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 12
St. Louis,  Missouri
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 13
Jacket cover of The Lord of The Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien

Photo 14
Image of J.R.R. Tolkien in 1916, during which he served in the British Military services.
Public Domain

Photo 15
St. Louis Mills Mall
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 16
Arbor Books web logo

Photo 17
Christina Lewis
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 18
Hand made copy of The Pirate’s Cheddar Island that Christina Lewis sent to Lynne Reid Banks
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis.

Photo 19
Mice in boats
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 20
Little boat made from a small butter tub.
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 21
Mice in boats
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 22
The Lewis Family home in Spokane, Washington
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis.

Photo 23
Mice chessboard set
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 24
Lake Erie
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 25
Tillamook Bay the Cheese Factory (established in 1909) with the famous Morning Star clipper out front
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 26
Jordan Lewis
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 27
View of Tillamook Bay
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 28
Tillamook Bay featured in The Cheese Pirates Cheddar Island
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 29
British caricature of John Paul Jones (July 6, 1747 – July 18, 1792), a Scottish sailor and the United States' first well-known naval fighter in the American Revolutionary War.  He was also known as the pirate during the American Revolutionary War.
Public Domain

Photo 30
Anonymous painting thought to be of Jean Lafitte, a pirate during the War of 1812.
Located at the Rosenberg Library in Galveston, Texas
Public Domain

Photo 31
This image shows a photograph of Errol Flynn, taken ca. 1940. Under Australian law, all photographs taken in Australia before 1955 are in the public domain. This image is in the public domain under both Australian copyright law and US copyright law.

Photo 32
Captain Blood poster (and movie cover - the same one I have)

Photo 33
Cropped screenshot of Olivia de Havilland and Errol Flynn from the trailer for the film Captain Blood
Public Domain

Photo 34
Pepper Jack
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 35
Illustration of mice climbing a mountain
Attributed to Evelyn Dunbar (1906 – 1960) http://evelyn-dunbar.blogspot.com
Illustration completed in 1941
First appeared in An Episode In The History of the Lake District
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 36
Christina Lewis
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 37
Jacket cover of The Cheese Pirate’s Cheddar Island

Photo 38
The Lewis Family home in Spokane, Washington
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 39
Christina Lewis and man’s best friend
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis 

Photo 40
Jacket cover of a biography on Lynne Reid Banks by Sheri Liberman

Photo 41
The award-winning cover, Christina’s copy of The Indian in the Cupboard
Copyright granted by Christina Lewis

Photo 42

Jacket cover of The Cheese Pirates Cheddar Island

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Patricia Chiappa , Author of 72 Inspirational Books, Reflects on "What Christmas Means To Me!"

Christal Cooper 798 Words



Inspirational Writer/Novelist Patricia Chiappa:
What Christmas Means To Me!

Growing up, we always said Merry Christmas not Happy Holidays in my household. Christmas was a time that my family got together and not only exchanged gifts but memories. You see, we didn't always have the money to buy each other gifts. We didn't always have a six-foot perfectly trimmed tree. If I have to be honest, most years, when I was growing up, we celebrated around a Charlie Brown Christmas tree with one or maybe two gifts. We ate a turkey donated by the Goodwill and we were Happy!


Happy, because as we sat around the table on mismatched chairs we had each other. We had an unlimited supply of love. We had faith that no matter how hard life was at the time, that God walked by our side.


We had that special kind of Christmas magic in our hearts, the kind that makes you see every stranger that passes you on the street as a friend, the kind that made my little brother Brian and I believe in flying reindeer, a jolly old ST. Nick , and that a man named Scrooge was transformed by God's love.





We had a hope that war would end and that the world would forever live in peace. We had gratefulness also. We were grateful to be alive, we were grateful to be with each other, we were grateful for the little blessings we had.
Christmas, what does it mean to me? Well Christmas to me means love. We have a traditional thing we do on Midnight Christmas Eve. My grandfather started this tradition. Every year he would buy a small birthday cake for Jesus. At midnight, we would light one candle on the cake and sing "Happy Birthday." That small candle would remind us that Jesus was the light that came into this dark world; that the very first gift of Christmas was love.


Christmas to me has always meant love. It is the one time of the year that the whole world stops. In silence we look into our heart and souls and embrace the rest of the world. We reach out to those who are hurting, lonely, sad, ill, homeless, poor, cold and weak.


Those who stand on the front lines fighting in wars take that one day of the year to call a truce and forget about what they are fighting about for a while.


Families, maybe some family members who don't talk all year long, come together on that day out of the year to say "I love you."


Christmas to me also means Hope. Hope that the little Baby in the manger will save all souls from the darkness; that those who not yet know Him will find him as I did. Hope that all of the world will remember how to love not just that Baby but love one another as that Baby loved us.


Christmas to me means forgiveness. There are many times a Christmas song will come on the radio, and the lyrics of that song will make you think of a person, maybe someone that you had a fight with or haven't talk to in a while. Maybe that song moves you enough to make you pick up the phone and call that person. Or drop by to see them. Maybe the spirit that embraces the season, the spirit of love moves your soul to be a little softer , kinder, and more gentle.




Christmas to me means kindness, faith, charity, love, laughter, dreams, family, friends, love and light.  To be honest it's hard for me to just pick one thing about Christmas that means the most to me because Christmas is the season of all those things and more.


So to sum it all up, as an adult I celebrate the real reason for the season and the reason for celebrating His birth. The Bible says we are lost and separated from God, but Jesus Christ came to bring us back. Everyone has sinned against God and is far away from His presence. But by profiting from the gift of God’s grace, all of us would be saved.  Ephesians 2:8 says, ``For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of ourselves; it is the gift of God``.


So, Christmas to me is restoring the peace of the world. It brings hope and gives a new lease of life. It means a time to reconcile and submit ourselves completely to Jesus. It means a time to help the poor and needy, share the joys and pains of loved ones. Let’s forget everything else this season and bring Jesus and His teachings at the center, so that this Christmas turns out to be the most joyous celebration ever.


*Patricia Chiappa hs written 72 inspirational books; her most recent Now That’s A Spicy Meatball – Recipes And Stories From My Grandmother’s Kitchen



Photograph Description and Copyright Information

Photo 1
Patricia Ann Chiappa

Photo 2
Screen shot of Charlie, Linus, and the “Charlie Brown Christmas Tree’
Attributed to Charles Schultz
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 3
Patricia’s dining room
Copyright granted by Patricia Chiappa

Photo 4
Brian and Patty
Copyright granted by Patricia Chiappa

Photo 5
Jacket cover of Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer
Attributed to Robert May
1947
Fair Use Under the United States Copyright Law

Photo 6
Santa Claus aboard his sleigh on a holiday train in Chicago, Illinois.
Copyright granted by Douglas Rahden
November 23, 2012

Photo 7
Illustration from The Christmas Carol
From an 1933 Children’s book
Public Domain

Photo 8
Grandparents Helen and Fred Leudeman and parents Audrey and Bernie Leudeman. 
Copyright by Patricia Leudeman Chaippa.


Photo 9
Happy Birthday Jesus Cake

Photo 10
The poor on Wentworth Street, Whitechapel
Attributed to Gustave Dore
1872
Public Domain

Photo 11
The Christmas Day truce of 1914, showing German and British soldiers socializing

Photo 12
Ferdinand Georg Walduller –
A Traveling Family of Beggars is Rewarded by Poor Peasants on Christmas Eve
1834
Public Domain

Photo 13
17th Century Painting of Baby Jesus in the manger
Public Domain

Photo 14a
Silent Night Chapel Picture of Josef Mohr
CCASA 3.0

Photo 14b
Portrait of Franz Xaver Gruber
Attributed to Sebastian Stief in 1846
Public Domain

Photo 14c
The Christmas song Stille Nacht, autograph (ca. 1860) by Franz Xaver Gruber (1787–1863). Photographed by de:Benutzer:Mezzofortist.
Public Domain

Photo 15
Victorian-aged painting of a family celebrating Christmas
Attributor unknown
Public Domain

Photo 16
The Birth of Christ, Federico Barocci, 1597
Mary, the new mother, is unable to drag her gaze away from the miracle that is her baby; Joseph, the elated father, pulling visitors in to see his child, surely the most wonderful thing in the universe; and the calm ox and donkey, who look as if they have seen it all before.
Public Domain

Photo 17
Jacket cover of Now That’s A Spicy Meatball:  Recipes And Stories From My Grandma’s Kitchen