Author Posts – Page 2 – Tonia Allen Gould

Grisham, a Homeless Man, and My Spilled Groceries

For Thanksgiving, I have a story to share. Yesterday, I pulled into the crowded grocery store parking lot, where cars were stopped everywhere, waiting for a place to park. Towards the back of the lot, a homeless man sat under a tree with a book in his hand. The book was covered with a handwritten sign asking for money. Next to him was an empty space – where no one wanted to park. No one wanted to park their car next to the homeless man.
Honestly, I didn’t get it, and I was overjoyed by luck at finding a space. So I pulled into it, and dug through my purse looking for some bills. I got out of my car and said, “Hey! Whatcha reading?” He looked up at me in surprise. “Grisham,” he said with a smile. I handed him the money and smiled back, “I love Grisham,” I said, and walked away. By the time I came back out – he was gone. I was hoping he went to find food with the money I gave.

After dealing with the long line at the grocery store, I hurriedly put my groceries in the back of my SUV, and unbeknownst to me, the gate didn’t latch. By the time I made it onto the street – three bags of groceries toppled out and into the middle of the left turn lane. I was horrified and worried my groceries were going to cause an accident. So I whipped back around – turned on my hazards – and got out of the car while a young lady had already crossed the street from the gas station to help me get my groceries out of the way.

Every single one of my food items survived the fall – except for two bottles of sparkling lemonade -but, everything else I picked out for today’s feast was left totally unscathed. And, I couldn’t help but think, as I raced to get those groceries out of the way, that my willing gesture of kindness with the homeless man came right back to me with someone who was willing to help me out in my own time of need.

Happy Thanksgiving!

An Ode to a Veteran and Handi-Snacks with Their Little Red Sticks

That handsome feller is my Grandfather. He died when I was ten. He served his family and country well. He ruffled my hair with his calloused hands and carried an ample stock of Handi-Snacks cheese and crackers (packed out with the little red stick), just for me. He’d let me spread my cheese over that cracker and watch me stuff my face – and laugh – whenever I was down. And, that was all I needed. Me and my Grandpa, bumping along the back roads of Indiana in his old jalopy, and laughing, with my cheese and crackers. If that ain’t a God Bless America tribute, I don’t know what is.

Vision Statement – The Finding Corte Magore Project

Problem: 42% of all children along the Atlantic Coast of Nicaragua drop out of school by sixth grade, if they ever enroll at all. (The Guardian)

They drop out because they don’t have shoes to walk to school, because they have to watch their siblings while their parents work, or because they themselves have to work to support their families.

They drop out because they see school as pointless.

Guess what? They’re right.

There are no jobs waiting for students if and when they graduate. Which means poverty will live on in Nicaragua forever.

Solution: Our project aims to start to reverse this cycle of poverty by driving social good tourism to the South Caribbean Coast Autonomous Region (RACCS) in Nicaragua via the island of Corte Magore at Hog Cay, Nicaragua. At minimum, our project works like this:

Tourists visit the island, driving revenue to fund…

Jobs and job training for locals seeking to better provide for their families, such as eco-building, island maintenance, security, hospitality, transportation, and cooking – skills that parents can take back to their communities to show their children that job security is on the way.

Education for students, like a floating educational barge to deliver school supplies to remote areas, after school sports and crafts programs that only students who stay in school can partake in, or on-island biodiversity research camps for older students.

By providing job opportunities for parents and making school meaningful for students, the island will free students to stay in school, go after their dreams, and spread prosperity as they become business-owners, entrepreneurs, tourism professionals, artists, scientists, coders, teachers…

We believe the dreams of children are the most precious resource in Nicaragua – but also the most squandered. So many dreams go unfulfilled due to poverty. Every child deserves a shot to go after their dreams, and the Finding Corte Magore Project intends to give it to them. We believe that achieving their dreams can not only elevate them above their birth circumstances, but also their communities and, over time, their nation.

We’ve secured the island – how would you like to help?

Project hyperlinks

Finding Corte Magore – findingcortemagore.com

Tonia Allen Gould – toniaallengould.com

FCM YouTube Channel

Tonia YouTube Channel

FCM Twitter – @cortemagore

FCM Facebook

Donate to FCM via PayPal

The Bones of Freedom

The Washington Monument — photo by Tonia Allen Gould

Don’t think your freedom is deserved because they served – that’s absurd. Freedom is not just a word. Freedom is a privilege granted you. Paid by sacrifice – in red, white and blue. But, have you paid back your due?

Are you being a good citizen? Respecting your fellow men? Showing up to vote again? Fighting for what you believe in? Showing gratitude to whom you depend? Time and time and time, again?

The tax on freedom is to do your part

From the start…

And from your heart…

Do they really have your loyalty?

Those men and woman who keep us free?

Or, is this just another fruitless holiday?

One where you get to stay…

At home – with pay?

-TA Gould

Top Five Writing Mistakes in a Handy Infographic

Last year during NaNoWriMo, Grammarly worked with nearly 500 writers from 54 countries to crowdsource a novel. They analyzed the resulting 40,000 or so words and uncovered some writing mistakes that happened time and again, then summarized the top five in a handy infographic.

Reprinted with permission. Infographic and body content of the article attributed to https://www.grammarly.com/grammar-check

What If All My Followers Donated Just $10? You May be Surprised.

I have precisely 3,154 followers on Twitter. What if every one of them donated just $10 to the Finding Corte Magore project? We’d raise enough money ($31,540) to buy a panga, outfit it with a teacher(s) and enough school supplies to keep our floating educational barge on the water for one full year – delivering education to the remote indigenous regions of the South Caribbean Coast Autonomous Region (RACCS) in Nicaragua. CEDEHCA – the human rights organization we are aligned with – can traverse this region daily, serving some of the world’s most poor who currently have no access to school or books or learning supplies.

Our educational barge will depart right from our own dock at our 29-acre island on Corte Magore at Hog Cay – Bluefields, Nicaragua.

What if you could be a part of something great like that? We are currently looking for a corporate sponsor for our educational barge, but just $10 can make all the difference in the world. Please go to our website and click the PayPal link at the top make your $10 (or any amount you can give or afford) tax-deductible donation to our California Benefit Corp and that money will flow to our joint partnership with Ambassador Campbell on our 29-acre island of Corte Magore at Hog Cay, Nicaragua. You can make a difference by contributing now.

Tonia Allen Gould

Thought Leader

the Finding Corte Magore project

5 Minutes, $10, and a Share?

If you’ve been following my island project, Finding Corte Magore, then you’ll know it has been my lifeblood for the past fifteen months or so. What’s miraculous is that my lifeblood has flowed to numerous volunteers who have given of themselves freely to see this incredible project come to fruition. What’s miraculous is, my lifeblood has also become theirs, too.

In that time, my team and I went from having a dream of making a fictional place real – to actually being awarded an island in Nicaragua by the Nicaraguan Ambassador to the U.S – and now have the ability to put the island to social good use, reversing the cycle of poverty along the South Caribbean Coast Autonomous Region (RACCS) in Nicaragua – a bio-diverse region that serves some of the world’s most poor. And, that poverty is what is driving the nation’s children from school into the workplace. (Guardian).

29-acre, Hog Cay, Nicaragua is now ours to share with the world. And we can put it to very good use by creating revenue producing opportunities from it that work to keep kids in Nicaragua in school.

Here’s what I know to be true. My dream is not your dream. I know you have dreams of your own. I know the economy is tough and many don’t have a great deal of discretionary income. I know you probably already have your own, favorite cause. I know people inherently like to give, but sometimes can’t. I also know I have to ask. I’ve done a lot of things in my life, but raising money is not one of them, so I hope I’m going about it the right way.

Today, what I really want you to know about this island is that it’s not some ruse to generate huge corporate gains. It’s not my island. It’s everyone’s island. It’s about turning dreams into reality – setting out to do something so big and grandiose – that proves to the world, particularly its children that anything is possible, and their obstacles can be overcome, just like mine were growing-up in the U.S. My story as it connects to the island can be read about here.

So, I’ll make my plea short and to the point. Today, I’m asking you for 5 minutes of your time, to go to our website, to click the PayPal link at the top, and to make your $10 (or any amount you can give or afford) tax-deductible donation to our California Benefit Corp and that money will flow to our joint partnership with Ambassador Campbell on Corte Magore at Hog Cay, Nicaragua. You can make a difference by contibuting now – and you can help me keep this island dream alive.

If you can’t donate, I understand, but I’m asking you, please, for your share on each of your social networks you participate.

Throughout this blog, there’s more detailed information about the Finding Corte Magore project, it’s sustainability measures and what not – should you wish to learn more about it. In the meantime, thanks to your donation today, an indigenous child in the South Caribbean Coast Autonomous Region of Nicaragua can have access to learning materials delivered by the human rights organization, CEDEHCA, through the Finding Corte Magore project.

Check out the Finding Corte Magore project, live in Nicaragua. Here we interview, Denise with CEDEHCA, who talks about their support to the children in the Kukra Hill municipality.

Please donate now.

Sincerely,

Tonia Allen Gould

The Finding Corte Magore Project

Author/Founder/Thought Leader

Hug-A-Tree on our island of “Corte Magore” and Keep Nicaraguan Kids in School

HugATree on Corte Magore and have your tax deductible donation work to keep Nicaraguan children in school through the Finding Corte Magore project.

Join us on our first money-raising initiative for the Finding Corte Magore project. With your tax deductible $250+ donation – you, or someone you love – can be memorialized forever by “Hugging a Tree” on Corte Magore, at Hog Cay, Bluefields, Nicaragua. I promise you, with every ounce of my being, your money will be put to very “GOOD” use.

On Google Maps the Coordinates for Corte Magore at Hog Cay are the following:

11°59’25.2″N 83°45’09.7″W

Here´s an aerial view of the island.

Tree Huggers® are created using high-grade stainless steel and are noted for being the only tree plaque that gently wraps around the tree (by means of plastic-encased springs) and expands without harming it as it grows! It will not rust or corrode or release any harmful toxins or chemicals that could harm the tree. There are hundreds and hundreds of trees on Corte Magore at Hog Cay, Nicaragua – and we anticipate that eventually, every one of them will be memorialized by our donors. Click here to make your tax deductible donation.

The Finding Corte Magore Project Problem: 42% of all children along the Atlantic Coast of Nicaragua drop out of school by sixth grade, if they ever enroll at all. Poverty in Nicaragua drives kids out of school and into the workplace. (The Guardian). They drop out because they don’t have shoes to walk to school, because they have to watch their siblings while their parents work, or because they have to work to support their families. They drop out because they see school as pointless. Guess what? They’re right. There are no jobs waiting for students if and when they graduate. Which means poverty will live on in Nicaragua forever. Unless…

Solution: Our project, led by Author, and Entrepreneur, Tonia Allen Gould, along with her team, aims to start to reverse this cycle of poverty in one large region of Nicaragua by driving sustainable, best practices, social good tourism to Bluefields via the island of Corte Magore at Hog Cay, Nicaragua. Our social enterprise works like this: Eco-Tourists and Flashpackers visit our island in Bluefields, driving revenue to fund programs such as: Jobs and job training on the island for locals seeking to better provide for their families, such as eco-building, island maintenance, security, hospitality, transportation, and cooking, training they can take back to their communities to earn money. By showing kids along the Atlantic Coast that their parents can be trained and then gainfully employed, we can offer children hope for a better life for themselves. Hope that may start to reverse the cycle of poverty. By providing job opportunities for parents and making school meaningful for students, the island will free students to stay in school, go after their dreams, and spread prosperity as they become business-owners, entrepreneurs, tourism professionals, artists, scientists, coders, teachers…

We also intend to fund educational programs for students in Nicaragua – programs like a floating educational barge that delivers teachers and and school supplies to remote indigenous regions, after school sports and crafts programs that only students who stay in school can partake in, or on-island biodiversity and environmental learning research camps for older students.

The Finding Corte Magore project will establish ecotourism operations in under-developed and ecologically vulnerable areas, and set the precedent for sustainable development in a way that prevents the destruction of pristine natural habitats by irresponsible tourism. The FCM business model will be validated in the Hog Cay pilot site in Nicaragua given the biodiversity attributes and relative lack of development in the area, as well as the recent influx of visitors to the country. The FCM platform will subsequently be exported to similarly vulnerable areas with a viable and repeatable business model that creates investable and scalable opportunities to promote sustainable development.

Meanwhile, we intend to build a global, K-12 environmental learning curriculum from eco-projects happening on the island -which is an identified bio-diverse hotspot, projects that have research attraction from many of our potential partners and universities, as well as will put locals to work with proper training:

Building our Eco-Beach complete with a volleyball pit
Mangrove protection and devising ways to eliminate natural, island erosion
Building the bar and commissary
Renovating the basketball court with recyclable products like used tires
Building floating casitas
Training of locals to do construction, learn hospitality, cooking, bartending and how to captain a panga, etc.
Creating a Zipline from one part of the island to the other or connecting the island to a neighboring island via zipline that won’t infringe on passing boats
Eco-Spa – Building natural, spas from collected rainwater
Lighting the island for evenings
Building eco-sensitive tree houses on the island
Rebuilding the island’s suspension bridge
Artisanal Fishing Demonstrations with natives
Creating Cultural Excursions like to the Garifuna annual anniversary celebration
Coral Reef Restoration Projects
Turtle Protection and Migration Projects
Building Photovoltaic thermal hybrid solar collectors to convert solar radiation into thermal and electrical energy to power the island and how people may be use similar technology to power their lives after a hurricane
Farming Mussels in the lagoon to clean up the brown water
Various Eco-Farming projects – (we have access to an eco-farm across the lagoon) – training on planting and growing foods in tropical climates despite global warming
Figuring out how to divert town rain water and brown water from flowing into the lagoon
Creating and traveling with our floating educational barge to indigenous regions, bringing education to children who otherwise can’t access education
Inventing hurricane resistant “kit” housing for poor coastal communities led by a team of engineers in a think tank
Building a bird sanctuary
Creating Vertical Gardening Systems despite the clay soil which is conducive to growing certain types of food only
Implementing fishing best practices
Introducing diving to the area and along the many shipwrecked boats
Finding the tradewinds and introducing surfing to areas which are untapped or undiscovered

No other tourism venture strategically connects the dots between social good, environmentalism and education – making our project the first of its kind and further promoting sustainability by making the number of visitors, to the island, virtually limitless. Planned educational opportunities at FCM are extensive and do not just include educational experiences consumed by the eco-tourists we attract. Rather, we see an opportunity to build a K-12 environmental educational platform that makes FCM virtually accessible from anywhere in the world. A FCM student/teacher/professor/university inspired curriculum will be at the core of our offerings.

We have been in talks with many notable agencies and insitutions such as NOAA, Conservation International, CREST and UCSB’s Bren School of Environmental Science. Sustainable, best practices and conscientious travel is imperative to this region or it may be devastated by tourists. That said, the tourism is still coming to the region regardless, here’s why:  Eco-Tourism is already happening in Nicaragua  A dirt road from Managua that normally takes twelve hours to drive, is currently being paved. This connects the Atlantic Coast to the rest of Nicaragua without having to fly.  Lonely Planet calls Nicaragua the Top 4 place in the world to visit  The Canal de Nicaragua is a shipping route under construction through Nicaragua to connect the Caribbean Sea (and therefore the Atlantic Ocean) with the Pacific Ocean.

Our business partner is: Ambassador Francisco Campbell, Nicaraguan Ambassador to the U.S. and owner of 29-acre, Hog Cay. FCM has negotiated a 15-year leasehold already on the island. We are halfway there to make our vision at Corte Magore a reality.

Hog Cay Google Coordinates: 11°59’25.2″N 83°45’09.7″W.

We believe the dreams of children are the most precious resource in Nicaragua – but also the most squandered. So many dreams go unfulfilled due to extreme poverty. Something needs to be done about this. Every child deserves a shot to go after their dreams, and the Finding Corte Magore Project intends to give it to them. We believe that achieving dreams can not only elevate children above their birth circumstances, but also their communities and, over time, their nation.

We have acquired the island through a lot of hard work and dedication, and now we need to build it out, develop programs and put the island to work to keep a nation of children in school.

Finding Corte Magore is a California Benefit Company. The purpose of a benefit corporation includes creating general public benefit, which is defined as a material positive impact on society and the environment. A benefit corporation’s directors and officers operate the business with the same authority as in a traditional corporation but are required to consider the impact of their decisions not only on shareholders but also on society and the environment. Finding Corte Magore at Hog Cay, Nicaragua is a Nicaraguan joint partnership formed under Nicaraguan law.

Project hyperlinks:

Finding Corte Magore – findingcortemagore.com

Tonia Allen Gould – toniaallengould.com, author and founder

FCM YouTube Channel

Tonia YouTube Channel

FCM Twitter – @cortemagore

FCM Facebook

Donate to FCM via PayPal (Donations are charitable and tax deductible)

Oh, and one day, we hope to see you visit us on Corte Magore!

My Hometown Newspapers Connect the Dots Between My Background, Book and the Island of Corte Magore

By Culver Citizen Editor, Jeff Kenney - Culver, Indiana — By Culver Citizen Editor, Jeff Kenney

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Title Waves: Big Thoughts Behind the Story of a Little Crab and His Home

This article includes toddler BabbleMusing on the title of my children’s picture book, Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore…

On a summer’s drive to the beach, almost eighteen years ago, my daughter, Whitney Ann- a toddler at the time – was playing with her little bare toes and babbling the nonsensical words from her car seat, “Corte Magore…Corte Magore…” Over and over again, she’d prattle, burble and blather the words, giggling as if she had a secret, while my husband and I scratched our heads, and racked our brains to figure out what she was trying to say.

Since I fancy myself a bit of a poet (I hope you do too), I started making-up a rhyming poem on that fateful drive along the California Coast to Santa Barbara. I toyed around with the sound of those two words, out loud and in my head, crafted by my toddler’s own two-year-old imagination. Whitney’s made-up words formed the beginnings of an epic poem, one that I just couldn’t shake free from my brain long enough to ever let it go. And, for years I honed various drafts and versions of Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore, but never got serious about publishing it in the form of a children’s picture book until much later in my daughter’s life.

But, how do you spell words conjured-up in the boundless creative mind of a child? Originally, I was spelling Corte as “Corta” because I like phonetically correct spellings. But, one day, I noticed one of my employee’s checks was addressed to Corte Madera, California. So I looked up what “Corte Madera” means. In Spanish, Corte Madera means the imperative command “Chop wood”, as in “To chop the wood”. A crab uses a chopping motion with his pincers. So Corte – to chop – seemed befitting for my land and sea fiddler crab, awashed ashore of the island that would one day be Corte Magore (fictionally, and in real life.)

California is also a land wrought with Spanish derived spellings and places, so “Corte” stuck, even if not phonetically correct. (I didn’t know then that my book’s unintentional Spanish influence would later be connected, serendipitously, to Latin America through the Finding Corte Magore project). “Magore”, or the second part of the name of the island in my book, rhymes perfectly with Moore, lore, before and a slew of other words used throughout my prose in Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore. Every poet feels blessed when she uses a word and finds it amassed with other phonetic or rhythmic words.

And thus, a book’s title was born. And my life has forever been altered.

from a recent book signing in Culver, Indiana

School Author Visit: SRTMS Career Day 2015 on Writing, Islanding, and Social Good

Food and Fun on Nicaragua’s Caribbean Coast

By Guest Blogger, Whitney Gould, the Finding Corte Magore project

Traveling along the Caribbean Coast of Nicaragua is like shopping in a thrift shop – the gems are there, but you have to search for them. And when I say gems, I mean the most gleaming gems of all. From its jungle river rides to its coconut-infused cuisine, the often overlooked Caribbean Coast is full of discoveries, activities, and cuisine that left the three of us – my mother and founder of Finding Corte Magore, and Eric Anderson, FCM’s Communications Director and me – feeling as if we’d found a new wonder of the world in Bluefields, Nicaragua.

Bluefields was named after the Dutch pirate Abraham Blauvelt who hid in the bay’s waters in the early 17th century.^[1] It has a population of 87,000 (2005)^[2] and its inhabitants are mostly Mestizo, Afro-descendant Creoles, and indigenous Miskitu, along with smaller communities of Garifuna, whites, Chinese, Mayangnas, Ulwas, and Ramas. Bluefields is Nicaragua’s chief Caribbean port, from which hardwood, seafood, shrimpand lobster are exported. Bluefields was a rendezvous for English and Dutch buccaneers in the 16th and 17th century and became capital of the English protectorate over the Mosquito Coast in 1678. During United States interventions (1912–15, 1926–33) in Nicaragua, American Marines were stationed there. In 1984, the United States mined the harbor (along with those of Corinto and Puerto Sandino). Bluefields was destroyed by Hurricane Joan in 1988 but was rebuilt. (Source: Wikipedia)

When traveling to this coastal region in Latin America, you’ll want some handy tips on the food and fun. Here’s where to start:

Food – When it comes to food, try everything with the Nicaraguans’ trademark coconut flare. Coconut accents enhance the flavors of rice, shrimp, and bread in ways you’ve never tasted. Hunt down a bakery selling signature pan de coco (coconut bread) – a dish with subtle but delectable hints of coconut that grow on you as you eat it. It’s nearly impossible to save any for later. If I’ve tempted your taste buds and no immediate trip to Nicaragua is in your future, trying making your own pan de coco bread at home with this recipe.

For seafood, try Pelican Bay (or as the local taxi drivers call it, “El Pelicano”) – not necessarily for the cuisine (although it’s good), but for the view. Take a look at the dishes cooked with coconut – I recommend the shrimp and rice. It was so good I ordered it two days in a row. Be sure to find a seat outside. Seated over Bluefields Bay, the balcony offers amazing views of the water and nearby islands. It’s a great place to take pictures of the passing pangas, well-presented dishes, or better yet, both:

View over Bluefields Bay from Pelican Bay restaurant

Fred Ulrich, Casa Ulrich, Pearl Lagoon, Nicaragua

Fun – A foolproof way to have fun in Nicaragua is to spend time in the water. Take a panga through the bay and the connecting rivers. This is the easiest (and sometimes only) way to travel from place to place. Pearl Lagoon*, home of Fred Ulrich’s restaurant, Casa Ulrich, is known for vibrant locals, a beach-like atmosphere, and big screen TVs for sports fanatics. Order the seafood platter, have a beer, play a game of beach soccer, and you’re sure to have a fun-filled day.

If you’re up for the day trip, take some time to go to Pearl Lagoon by boat. Fred Ulrich, Swiss trained chef and Nicaragua local, owns this top-notch seafood restaurant right off the dock. Since you’ll be staying for dinner as well as lunch, be sure to try the seafood pasta in both the red and white sauces. Don’t forget to wash your food down with a Toña Cerveza – the most popular beer in Nicaragua (and we see why)! Watch the video below as Eric gives his critique of this Nicaraguan beer.

image a — Soccer match on the new beachfront recently installed at Casa Ulrich

If you have time for another day trip, schedule a tour at CEDEHCA’s own farm, HugKey**. HugKey is a sanctuary unlike any other for ducks, pigs, turkeys, and chickens. Set on a lush, sprawling, open field, the island is also covered with gardens, fruit trees, and vegetable patches. Plus, your visit contributes to a great cause. CEDEHCA is using the farm to teach young people how to raise farm animals -like hogs, chickens and turkeys, grow fruits and vegetables, and sell to local businesses. If you’re interested in visiting the farm, contact Earl Gregory Taylor, CEDEHCA’s Operations Coordinator, at (505) 8430 0884 or earl.taylor@cedehcanicaragua.com. Munch on some sugar cane while you’re there!

*Be sure to wear pants to protect from local mosquitos! – Yes, I learned the hard way. By the time, I left Pearl Lagoon, I had over 50 mosquito bites on my legs. Mom and Eric both paid heed to local advice to wear bug spray, but I thought I was impervious to what I thought I was only local lore. By the way, my mom was using her own lavender, orange and euculyptus natural oil concoction and she escaped the whole trip without a single bite.

Oh yes, and do watch out for snakes, while touring any tall, grassy areas – after all, you are in the jungle.

I hope you fall in love with the Caribbean Coast of Nicaragua like I did. Open yourself up to experience the flavors, personality, and beauty of the coast and its people, and I promise that you, too, will enjoy not only these gems, but will find some of your own!

Some day soon, we hope to see you visit us on Corte Magore at Hog Cay, Nicaragua!

Want to Guess your Child’s Future Profession? Ask Them to Describe a Tree.

Last night during dinner, we sat outside with our out-of-town guests and looked at the same tree, and I had an idea. Going around the table, I asked everyone to use their own words to describe it. Funny how the writers were more descriptive and detailed, while the two lawyers dug deeper and were more analytical, but the financial guy was perfunctory and straight to the point. A mathematician might have talked about the distance from the tree to the water feature and other, nearby trees. Want to guess your child’s future profession? Ask them to describe a tree.

Welcome to the Jungle

By Lorna Pierno

When I travel back to Nicaragua, the phrase “Welcome to the Jungle” means more than the iconic Guns & Roses song.

Here, “Welcome to the Jungle” means waking up to the sounds of roosters crowing, birds chirping, and the leaves on the palm trees swaying to alert us of a pending storm. It means returning to the jungle of my childhood and the vivid memories that live here, like when I laid the first brick of what would later become the family farmhouse I sit in now, looking out at the trees that my brother and I climbed when we were kids.

“Welcome to the Jungle” means I’m home at Finca Zaragoza, a luscious coffee farm located on over 500 acres of nature in the mountains of Nicaragua’s La Dalia region.

In the blink of an eye, over 30 years have passed since I climbed those trees. While much of the coffee farm remains the same, there is one big, new addition that fills me with hope for the future of the country. Across the way, in what used to be an open cement field where we dried coffee beans and I learned how to ride a bike, there is now a schoolhouse.

In 2012, my father, Omar Perez Leclair, built the schoolhouse for the kids of the farm workers who harvest coffee here. Prior to the schoolhouse, parents struggled to keep their kids in school. Unable to afford cars, the only way for kids to get to school was “on foot,” and since the nearest schools were five to ten miles away, the kids’ shoes would quickly wear out. Without money to spend on new shoes, parents would sometimes just take their kids out of school. By building a school on the farm, we hoped to save not only kids’ shoes, but their dreams.

Francis, a 7-year-old girl, who enjoys playing hide-n-seek with her friends, told me she wants to become a doctor so she can take care of anyone who gets sick.

Francis’s family has worked in Finca Zaragoza for many, many years. My mother taught her grandfather, Don Julio, now retired, to read and write. He will never forget it and tells me this same story every time he sees me. For me, the joy he got from learning to read and write reinforces the importance of investing in Nicaragua’s future by making sure that essential resources (such as accredited teachers, desks, notebooks, pencils, a chalkboard, etc.) are in place to educate the kids.

Despite the efforts of people like my father, many kids here will not make it past the 6^th grade. Their parents will force them to start working in the city, the streets, or in other farms so that they can help contribute towards food and clothing to support the rest of the family – including younger brothers/sisters and grandparents. Without school, many won’t have a shot at fulfilling their dreams.

I need only look at my own path to see how important school was in building the life I lead in Los Angeles. In 1983, my family and I fled to the United States. I was in 2^nd grade, enrolled in “El Americano” School and learning how to speak English, when fighting between the Sandinistas and the US-supported Contras grew severe, causing Nicaragua’s economic and civil rights conditions to worsen. My family and I settled in the San Fernando Valley in California, and I enrolled in the 3^rd grade with American kids. I quickly learned how to read and write in English, and by the end of the school year, I was helping my American classmates with their homework. I admit, I was kind of a nerd, but I just LOVED going to school and I never missed a day – I looked forward to winning “perfect attendance” awards at the end of the year. When I got chicken pox in 4^th grade, I was crushed that I had to miss a full week.

I went on to attend Bishop Alemany High School in Mission Hills, CA, and then CSUN (California State University Northridge), where I graduated with a bachelor’s in Business Administration. After graduating, I ventured into the world of marketing at several fast-paced telecommunications companies.

Today, I am thankful for all the events that have led me to this point, and feel that the school is an expression of our gratitude and hope for the parents and children in Finca Zaragoza. Yet for as many as we’ve helped, there are millions more across Nicaragua who are forgotten. Spreading quality education to a whole country of children is a huge task, one requiring big ideas, hard work, and the coordinated efforts of dedicated people. It’s more than my family and I can do alone.

Then, one day, on Facebook, I saw a video about the Finding Corte Magore Project. But, it was this personal video from Tonia, about Finding Corte Magore, that got my attention the most because it tells the story on how her personal journey to Corte Magore began and how that relates to my own experiences, growing-up Nicaraguan.

I’d known Tonia Allen Gould, the project’s founder/CEO, for several years after we’d worked together in Los Angeles and became friends on social media. I learned that Tonia had published a children’s book, Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore, and now was turning the book’s fictional island of Corte Magore into a real island in Nicaragua to help kids stay in school. I knew I wanted to learn more, be a part of it, and help Nicaraguan students fulfill their dreams by helping Tonia fulfill hers. When Tonia approached me about visiting kids in Nicaragua, I welcomed her with open arms.

One conversation led to another and six weeks after our initial conversation, we were at the schoolhouse in Finca Zaragoza watching the kids’ faces glow as most of them received coloring paper and crayons for the very first time. They also received an English lesson from Tonia for the very first time as she taught them to say “Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore.”

Ultimately, I understood that The Finding Corte Magore Project’s mission was to bring awareness to education in a country that desperately needs it. This trip to the schoolhouse was a starting point for a grand initiative, a vision and a project that started out as a dream in the pages of a children’s book but was going to leap off the pages into reality.

So with great hope and excitement, I invite Tonia, the island, and the Finding Corte Magore Project to Nicaragua by saying: Welcome to the Jungle.

About the Finding Corte Magore Project: Our goal is to crowdfund a “social good” island in Nicaragua to raise awareness to the children who may drop out of school before reaching the sixth grade. In an effort to promote dreaming amongst children at home and abroad, our goal is to rebrand the 29-acre island of Hog Cay, to Corte Magore, after the fictional island in the children’s picture book, Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore, authored by Tonia Allen Gould. The main character in this story had to overcome a lot of challenges to accomplish his goal of building a life for himself. We believe, with a little help from students and teachers in the US, crowdfunders, and the Finding Corte Magore Project, that the children in Nicaragua too can create a better life for themselves as well.

THREE ENGINE FAILURE ADVENTURES IN NICARAGUA

By Eric Anderson

As the panga roared away from the dock and into the humid twilight of Laguna de Perlas, Tonia, Whitney, and I waved goodbye to Mr. Fred and the partiers at Hotel Casa Ulrich, his beachfront restaurant where we’d spent the afternoon eating fresh seafood, dancing to Caribbean music, and playing a made-up volleyball-soccer hybrid game straight out of childhood – only better now, because we could drink beer.

The party animal in me wished we’d taken Mr. Fred up on his offer to stay the night at his hotel so the fun could go on. But we had to get back to Casa Rosa, our hotel in Bluefields, before nightfall. The next day, we’d arranged to visit the Pearl Cays, a snorkeling and diving destination with clear waters and abundant marine life. To get there, however, we needed our passports, and Whitney and I had left those at Casa Rosa. So we would come back this way tomorrow morning, which was pretty okay, too, because it meant we’d get a couple more panga rides up and down the stunning Kukra River (watch documentary) that connected Laguna de Perlas and Bluefields.

Warm breeze in our hair, cold beers in our hands, it was a fantastic ride.

“I could do this all day,” Tonia had said on the way over.

Now, sitting near the bow of the boat, I directed my camera at the passing shoreline and brought into focus a green-grey blur of palm trees and foliage, the leaves fat and wet from the light afternoon rains, broken only by a sporadic flash of color in the decorated fishing boats, tin-roof huts, and laundry lines of an indigenous village. Orlando, our driver from Casa Rosa’s Rumble in the Jungle, had selected the biggest, fastest panga – with a 200hp outboard motor – at Casa Rosa because it could make the winding 30 mile trip between Bluefields and Laguna de Perlas in 50 minutes, and because it had room for his brother, friend, and girlfriend. As we traveled further, the distance between each village became greater. Soon, we would cruise down the throat of the Kukra River, and the jungle would close in around us.

I was about to start recording when the panga came to a sudden, jolting stop in the middle of the lagoon, throwing me against the bench hard enough to briefly knock the breath out of me. The cooler we’d stocked that morning with Toña beers and bottled water slid into the bench Whitney was sitting on. Jicaro, a skinny 17-year-old boy, had been sitting on the bow but was now on the floor of the boat. I rose, unhurt but unsteady, and looked over him to see what we’d hit.

There was nothing. Just open water.

I turned to Tonia and Whitney, searching their faces for what had happened, only to hear the answer a moment later in the wa-wa-wa-wa-wa of an engine refusing to start as Orlando turned the ignition.

Wa-wa-wa-wa-wa. Wa-wa-wa-wa-wa. Wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa –

As Orlando tried and failed to start the engine, Tonia gave me a knowing smile. “Didn’t I tell you we’d have an adventure?” she said.

Before coming to Nicaragua for the Finding Corte Magore Project, she had promised me an adventure. With a week of experiential tourism offerings involving filming the 29-acre island of Corte Magore on Hog Cay, meeting with the Campbell family (the island’s owners and Finding Corte Magore’s partners), and exploring an eco-farm, Bluefields nightlife, restaurants, casinos, and surrounding areas like Laguna de Perlas, I had no doubt an adventure would happen. I did not, however, expect it on day two, and frankly wasn’t convinced a minor mechanical hiccup qualified. Everything we’d done today had gone off without a hitch, and I was pretty sure the boat would start back up in a second…

Wa-wa-wa-wa-wa. Wa-wa-wa-wa-wa.

Frowning, Orlando raised the engine from the water so he and his friend, a large guy in a Boston Red Sox hat, could examine it.

We waited, bobbing listlessly in the middle of the lagoon.

I scanned the shoreline for civilization, but there was none. We had only gone a mile or two, but it was enough. There were no villages in sight, no other boats passing by.

Wa-wa-wa-wa-wa…

That sound was starting to get on my nerves.

Tonia dug out her iPhone.

“Who are you calling?” Whitney asked.

“I’m going to ask Mr. Fred to tow us back,” she said. “I worked at a marina in Indiana. I know what a broken engine sounds like.”

Mr. Fred had given her his number just before we left and told her to call anytime. He would have a good laugh at this one, I thought. Mr. Fred had offered several times to accommodate us for the night, and, when we’d declined because we didn’t have our passports, offered us use of the showers and a change of clothes and, when we’d declined that, suggested we at least stay for one more round of beers. “You must have work to get back to,” Tonia had said. “We never work on Saturdays,” Mr. Fred said with a smile. Now here we were, about to take Mr. Fred up on all of his hospitality after all.

Tonia frowned.

“He didn’t pick up?” I asked.

“The call’s not going through.” She dialed again. Again, the call didn’t go through. “How do you make local calls?”

There were seven of us on the boat, but we couldn’t figure it out. Orlando gave Tonia his phone and this time, the call went through. But Mr. Fred didn’t pick up. Tonia dialed him again. Again, Mr. Fred didn’t pick up. Tonia left a voicemail, explaining the situation and asking Mr. Fred for a ride back.

“So much for calling him any time,” she said, jokingly.

“They’re probably still partying,” Whitney said.

“Okay so we need to call the restaurant itself.” No one had the number to the restaurant. Back on her iPhone, Tonia googled Casa Ulrich, but the connection was slow. We waited, silently, as the webpage loaded and she got the number. Using Orlando’s phone now, she dialed.

No one picked up at the restaurant either.

At least for now, Casa Ulrich was a dead end.

Orlando called Casa Rosa in Bluefields. Someone picked up, but that didn’t do us any good. Randy and Rosa, the owners, were gone for the week on a fishing trip. Casa Rosa had several spare pangas, but everyone who worked there who could operate one had taken a vacation day to come on this boat with us… this boat that was stranded in the middle of a lagoon with a busted engine, a long way from home, without any help on the way.

I had to smile at how fitting it was that we’d found ourselves living out a textbook opening to a horror movie. When I’d first met Tonia on a flight from LA to Chicago, I was working as a script reader at a horror film company and was all too familiar with the scenario we found ourselves in now. A group of tourists spend the day living it up in paradise. Just when they think nothing can go wrong, they get stranded in the wilderness. They have no cell reception, but one of their cameras is conveniently still going and catches every moment in trendy shakycam as a monster rises from the muddy depths of the lagoon and tears them apart…

There were no monsters in the lagoon. There were, however, alligators. Baby alligators, Orlando had stressed. They couldn’t eat people… though I wondered whether whatever gave birth to these baby alligators could. Fred Jr., Mr. Fred’s son, had joked that there were anacondas. Tonia had joked there were piranhas. Everyone was a comedian when we were safely ashore.

Looming nightfall, however, was a more realistic challenge. I’d heard earlier that the only boats on the river at night were those of drug dealers, but even they rarely frequented the waters, given Nicaragua is the safest country in Latin America. By nightfall, we’d have to do watch rotations. We’d have to figure out a way to light-up the boat so no one crashed into us. We’d have to split, what, the five or six bottles of water left in the cooler? The beer would have to be rationed. Oh no!

Wa-wa-wa-wa-wa. Orlando tried one last time then shook his head, defeated.

“Battery,” he said. “Engine,” Tonia said.

So his friend proceeded to peel off his shirt, shorts, and Red Sox hat and jump into the water. He hadn’t expected the water to be so shallow and hit the bottom hard, tumbling over. For the first time since the boat stalled, we laughed. Jicaro jumped in next and started pushing as well.

Unable to restart the engine or call for a pick-up, we had come upon our last resort: pushing the panga back to shore. I powered up my camera. This was turning out to be an adventure after all. Which meant I had work to do.

Part of the reason I was on this trip was to gather footage for the Finding Corte Magore documentary. I imagined the film telling an inspiring tale about the obstacles Tonia and her team overcame to make the fictional island in her children’s book real. I knew of many of the obstacles already – locating the island, negotiating with the Ambassador to let us use it for the project, crowdfunding it, building it up, and managing it for tourists. But surely we could find room in the film for getting stranded in a jungle river, too. I pressed record:

Maybe more than two miles. I couldn’t even see the village Casa Ulrich was located in. Pushing a panga was slow-going so whatever the distance, by the time we made it back, it would be nighttime.

Jicaro waded to the bow of the boat and started pulling the rope used to dock it. After steering the panga on its course back to Casa Ulrich, Orlando jumped into the water as well and started pushing. I felt a sudden urge to do the same. So, kicking off my flip-flops and holding my $1,000 Canon D70 above my head, I stepped over the side of the boat and into the water. It was bathwater warm. The bottom consisted of a squishy mud that sucked in my feet. I felt like the intrepid storyteller I’d always dreamed of being but, in this business, so often remains a dream. As I filmed, I felt myself enter the sweetspot of adventure. This plan was last-ditch, slow-going, ludicrous, but spirits were as high as they’d been all afternoon.

There was only one thing that could make the adventure sweeter…

And Tonia made it happen by doing what I imagine every documentary filmmaker would want from its chief subject: without prompting her, she jumped into the water and started pushing the boat, too.

As a storyteller, a part of my mind is often separate from whatever’s going on before me, running through quality control checklists: What am I trying to get across? How do I get that across? What contribution am I making to this story, all stories, the world? Here as I filmed Tonia pushing the panga, I thought of the famous shot of General Douglas MacArthur wading ashore in the Philippines WWII, of Daniel Craig announcing his presence as the new 007 in Casino Royale by strutting through the Caribbean. Walking through water isolated human toughness. Motors broke, cellphones died, but willpower was its own power source. The idea that, through hard work, anything is possible was a central message to the Finding Corte Magore Project, and here it was in action. Our fearless leader did not let us down. I waded behind, ahead of, and to the side of the boat, shooting as much and from as many angles as I could before Tonia climbed back in.

As we went along, the water started getting deeper, and I had to hold the camera higher and higher. It rose to my waist, then my stomach. When it reached my torso, I decided there’d been enough mechanical failure for one day, and put the camera back aboard the panga. Then, unable to resist becoming a character in the story, I grabbed the side of the boat and started to push.

We docked the panga at the first fishing village we came across. A dock worker and two small children had seen us approaching and were waiting for us. Orlando explained the problem and, a few minutes later, the dockworker had a fresh battery.

“This is why I love Nicaraguans,” Tonia said as they connected the new battery. “They’re some of the friendliest and most helpful people I’ve ever met.”

Orlando fired up the engine. Wa-wa-wa-wa-wa. Wa-wa-wa-wa-wa. Wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa –

So it wasn’t the battery after all.

Tonia sighed. “I knew it wasn’t the battery. The battery starts the engine. Once it’s running, even if it goes out, the engine would keep going.”

Eventually, a fisherman tied our panga to his and towed us the rest of the way back to Mr. Fred’s. As we neared, we saw the beach party was still in full swing. The partiers gathered on the pier and greeted us with big grins, none bigger than the told-you-so grin of Mr. Fred as he helped us off the panga and onto the pier.

He couldn’t resist saying it either. “Told you! You should’ve stayed!” he said.

Our engine failure adventures continued. A few days later we were taking a panga away from Corte Magore on Hog Cay in the lagoon when the engine died and the boat came to a (much gentler) stop in the middle of Bluefields Bay. Here we go again, I thought.

All afternoon, I had been gathering on-island footage for the crowdfunding video, something I’d been waiting to do for months. Having done it at last, I’d awarded, if only to myself, a “mission accomplished,” and allowed myself to turn off the camera and settle in for the ride. It seemed I had celebrated too soon.

Juan Martinez, our driver and our island handyman, took the casing off of the engine and started fiddling with it as Tonia told the story of our Laguna de Perlas engine failure to Earl, our guide. Earl is a coordinator for CEDEHCA (Centro de Derechos Humanos, Ciudadanos y Autonómicos, or the Center for Human Rights, Civil and Autonomous), a human rights organization stationed in Bluefields and run by the Campbell family. He had given us the tour of the island and the eco farm. Now we were swapping engine failure tales when we heard the throaty but lyrical roar of the engine coming back to life.

Within minutes, Juan had fixed the engine, and got a job offer:

http://https://youtu.be/_Cvpv5hfwzo

After we’d docked at Casa Rosa, Tonia turned to Whitney and me, smiling. “That makes two engine failures. We’re due for one more. Things always happen to me in threes.”

I would have considered this no more than an idle superstition had I not read Tonia’s memoir-in-progress, When it Comes in Threes. In it, she traced threepeats through her adult life and childhood. If Tonia’s rule of threes held true here, we were indeed due for one more engine failure, and running out of time for it to happen. It was our last night in Bluefields. Tomorrow, we’d fly to Managua. I don’t think any of us liked the idea of climbing into a single prop plane with fate owing us one last engine failure.

So it was with some relief when, that evening, our cab broke down as we were driving to a seafood restaurant called Pelican Bay.

“This is the third time!” Tonia said, vindicated. “I told you things always happen to me in threes!”

As if to reinforce it, Tonia gave the driver three unsuccessful turns of the key before calling Earl, who we were meeting for dinner. Tonia checked with Earl if we were in a safe area (we were, even though a large, muscular man standing on the sidewalk made me uneasy), and had him talk to the driver in Spanish. An arrangement was made to have the driver’s cousin pick us up. We were getting good at this.

The next day we boarded a small prop plane and slept easily on a wonderfully unadventurous flight back to Managua, and eventually – safely back on American soil – I marveled at the experiential tourist this trip had helped me become.”

As a follow-up to this post, we got a kick out of a tweet Tonia received on Twitter. It reads, “@MyWeego: Sorry @ToniaAllenGould. If you had a Weego jump-starter, you could be back on the water in no time. Check it out 🙂 http://t.co/0zculKdDYf”
Given the frequent trips to Nicaragua, we might just have to buy the WEEGO jumpstarter and battery pack.

Getting Off My One-Acre Island

How one author’s children’s picture book unfolded out for her in real life eventually making a fictional place real for social good.

Fifteen months ago, I had an “AHA” moment that, at first, involved marketing my book, Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore, an epic children’s tale about a land and sea fiddler crab who wandered onto a beautiful island called Corte Magore. Sam wanted to stay and live there forever, but had to first overcome obstacles like building himself a home before the tides came in to sweep him back out to sea. He also had to work around naysayers and the big, bad beast, the Great Tidal Wave. Sam was a dreamer and a hard worker. He made mistakes but each time he failed, learned to pull himself up again and again by his bootstraps.

If you know me well, you’ll know there are some parallels between Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore and my own life. Like Sam, I’m tenacious and a hard worker. Also like Sam, I too was once searching for a home. At the age of fifteen, I was placed in foster care. Mine was a dysfunctional family living well below the poverty line and things were often difficult for me growing up. The naysayer in my life was the system – the statistics that said I wasn’t supposed to break the cycle. Many children don’t, but I fortunately did. I’m resourceful, entrepreneurial, and when I’ve failed, I learned early on to pick myself up gracefully and work to get myself right back on track – just like Sam. I broke the mold and I know, in my heart of hearts, that it’s my duty to share with others that they can do it too. Despite their circumstances.

I tried to ingrain many pearls of wisdom throughout Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore. If only I had a book, growing up, that told me it was okay to be searching for something, that acknowledged that my dreams had validity, that being punctual and minding the time and deadlines were important, and that though there would be bullies and naysayers in my life trying to squelch my dreams, it was up to me to tackle them anyway. Somehow, early on, I learned I’d have to do most everything for myself and on my own and that being independent can be incredibly empowering, even for a child faced with life’s difficulties.

My story was one I HAD to tell. But just telling it wasn’t enough. I had to figure out a way to market my book in a big way to children so they could make my story and Sam’s story, about overcoming obstacles and persevering, their own.

One morning, right before I woke up – a time when being “almost” lucid often brings clarity to my problems – the way to market my book in a big way came to me in an “AHA” moment. “AHA, I’ve got it,” I thought as I sat straight-up in bed. “If you can name a star in the sky, then why can’t I find some postage-stamped-sized island, somewhere in the world, and name it Corte Magore?”

That crazy, absurd, half-cocked idea put me on a personal journey that has changed the course of my life – rallied even my own family, one that’s forced me to get off my own personal, one-acre suburban “island” in Southern California, a life I eventually built for myself, step out of my cush comfort zone – and onto a real life, 29-acre, living/breathing, bio-diverse island along the devastatingly poor, Atlantic Coast of Nicaragua. That “AHA” moment, caused my passion (writing books for children) to be met with its purpose – having an island work to somehow keep an impoverished nation of child drop-outs in school. One adventure lead me to the next, just like in my story. And that “AHA” moment has snowballed into a new tale that now involves an ambassador, universities, conservation, eco-tourism, environmental learning, ocean science, crowdfunding, grant-writing, television/film, real estate development, and much, much more. In the course of a year, I’ve traveled to Nicaragua three times and have fallen in love with its people and possibilities, but most importantly, I’ve fallen in love with the journey to “Finding Corte Magore”.

Over the next few days and weeks, my team on the Finding Corte Magore project and I will attempt to break down this amazing adventure for you. Look for videos, pictures, and blog posts as we unfold the story from varying perspectives.

I promise that when it’s all over, you will be inspired to get up, dust off some of those old dreams of your own, dare to get off your own islands and realize that nothing at all is impossible.

See you on Corte Magore!

Tonia Allen Gould

http://www.findingcortemagore.com

I Grew-Up Dirt Poor in Indiana, but, Still I had Hope

But, Still, I Had Hope…

Someone asked me last night – challenged me really, over dinner while talking about the Finding Corte Magore project. “Why not do all this in the U.S.? Why Nicaragua?” My answer? “I grew-up dirt poor, living below the poverty line. But, books, education, teachers, welfare and our American laws saved me. I had hope. And, everyone deserves hope.

The poorest children in the U.S. have so much more hope than most of the kids in Nicaragua, one of the poorest places on the planet. Kids in Nicaragua are forced to eventually choose work over school, if they ever enrolled in the first place. My goal is to teach kids in the U.S. that no matter how bad they have it – someone, somewhere, has things worse. And, in Nicaragua, my goal there is to let kids know that it’s okay to have hope and dream for a better life.” – Tonia

Please join this important discussion regarding the Finding Corte Magore project on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/FindingCorteMagore/posts/840844052658052

A Testimonial of a Lifetime

This private message appeared on my book’s, Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore, Facebook page yesterday. Sometimes, we just want to hear that we are making a difference and we’re doing it right. It’s feedback like this that ignites me and fuels my passion for writing books for children. I’m indebited and grateful this person took the time to reach out to me.

May 21st, 12:12pm
—————————-

I just wanted to thank you for creating a fun, educational & totally magical experience for children. There is nothing that compares to an excellent book for a child. I am the proud grandma of a curious 2yr old girl who loves books more than any toy. I am a former teacher, so I have guided her from before she was born. I was reading to her in utero. I think authors and animators don’t receive the gratitude they deserve. So I wanted to applaud you and thank you for the gifts you extend to all the little people in the world. I don’t own a copy. I read a copy a friend had and I was so impressed. I have a Masters Degree in English. I review books for a few major publishers…but they never allow me the enjoyment of reviewing children’s books….only long boring adult literature. I read the copy of your book my friend’s child had left out on the table. I LOVED it. If I was still teaching, I would be pulling strings to get you to speak at the school….not many authors have the ability to create an endearing character as well as create a magical world kids will want to return to again and again. You are a force to be reckoned with. I wish you great success. -Kimberly Wright Shadwick

Every Gal Needs to Update Her Bio Every Now and Again

Tonia Allen Gould is a wife and mother and frequently writes about the trials and tribulations of balancing life as an entrepreneur and writer from the female perspective. Here on this blog, she’ll write about whatever compels her at the moment. In addition to being an author, she is the owner/founder of Tagsource, (AKA TAG!) an award-winning, consumer promotions and marketing agency. With a creative, client-centric approach to brand development, TAG! builds unique promotional marketing campaigns that assists its clients in taking their products or services to an enlightened consumer in a rapidly changing media environment. A promotional industry veteran, she’s also an“Industry Voice”, a recipient of a PPAI Golden Pyramid, and has been named on ASI’s Hot List. TAG! is a recipient of a Supplier of the Year award through the Women’s Business Enterprise Council West, as nominated by Fortune 500 companies. In addition, Tonia’s also a Contributing Writer at InformationWeek, one of the world’s largest, most trusted information networks for business and technology professionals, addressing mission critical business and technology content across its many websites, applications, magazines, and events it delivers.

Tonia is excited to announce that her first children’s picture book, Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore released in July, 2013 (Skies America) on iTunes in the App Store, and on soft cover in January 2014 and then hard cover in February 2014 (Mira Publishing). Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore, was written and produced by her, and co-illustrated by “Mr. Lawrence” the voice of Plankton and an original storyboard director of SpongeBob SquarePants, along with another SpongeBob storyboard director, Marc Ceccarelli. The book app was narrated by two-time Marconi Award nominee, and one of the top radio personalities and broadcasters in the country, Mr. Steve McCoy.

The original musical score for the picture book app, Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore, was written and produced by Robby Armstrong, one of the hottest acts in Southern California, who is incidentally making a name for himself in Nashville. Robby collaborates with Nashville-based music industry icon, Darrell Brown, who has produced people like LeAnn Rimes, Keith Urban, and Josh Turner. Robby’s signature music has been featured in the Coen Brothers movie “Gambit” where he and his band also appeared in the bar scene giving him the opportunity to work alongside his sister-in-law, Cameron Diaz. Check out Robby Armstrong’s tempo-driven hot new video, “Rodeo,” a song that will also be included in the upcoming Cameron Diaz / Colin Firth film Gambit.

After the book’s release, Tonia founded the Finding Corte Magore project. The impetus of the Finding Corte Magore project stems from Tonia’s background – growing-up below the poverty line, in rural Indiana. A product of Indiana’s foster care system, she is the first to say that books, a solid education and teachers, taught her that there was a life for herself, tangible and within her reach, she just had to reach out an grab it – and that she did. Centered around the book’s themes, she wanted to promote dreaming, hard work and perseverance, by finding an island in Latin America, naming it after “Corte Magore” the fictional place in her book, and utilizing it for social good. Today, the 29-acre island of Hog Cay, Nicaragua- through a joint partnership with Ambassador Francisco Campbell, the Nicaraguan Ambassador to the U.S.-will be utilized by the Finding Corte Magore Project to work to keep Nicaraguan children in school. The Finding Corte Magore project will carry a fifteen-year leasehold on one-half of Hog Cay and be named Corte Magore on Hog Cay.

The Finding Corte Magore Project works virtually to connect a global community of professionals, students and crowdfunders in real time with the plight of educationally and economically repressed Nicaragua. The project incorporates social enterprise and involves showcasing and managing an eco-tourism operation on one of the Nicaragua’s own beautiful islands. The goal of The Finding Corte Magore Project is to create social awareness coupled with building a sustainable, positive and long-term educational impact on the country’s children who have an on-average fifth grade dropout rate.

Environmental strategies implemented will be based on innovative sustainability practices and initiatives tested worldwide that are most appropriate to FCM at Hog Cay’s bio-diverse conditions, and will immediately help prevent the environmental impact that would otherwise be caused by irresponsible tourism. FCM will also contribute to social development in two major ways; first, by helping to formalize the tourism industry in the area, FCM will provide higher quality and sustainable employment for local communities. The second social benefit lies at the very core of the Finding Corte Magore project, which is to further educational opportunities for children locally (working to keep them in school), as well as to engage and educate children globally about environmentalism.

Hope is in the Oven

I’m an excellent chef, but I’m also the world’s worst baker. Because of that, I can define the word hope. Hope is the yearning look on my family’s faces when I’m standing at the counter making pie, or cheesecake or cookies. The look of “hope” screams – this is it…maybe she’ll get it right this time…maybe, just maybe, this time everything will turn out ok. #hopeisintheoven

hope

hōp/

noun

1.
a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.

“he looked through her belongings in the hope of coming across some information”

synonyms: aspiration, desire, wish, expectation, ambition, aim, goal, plan, design; More

Telling a Different Story Through Differentiation

I test drove a very nice car yesterday, the Porsche Macan, my idea of a zippy and creative, mom-car on caffeine and steroids. After winding-up with a bonafide lemon the last time I bought an SUV (don’t ask, it makes me crazy); I wanted to be sure I covered all my bases on my next purchase. Poised with questions, I eventually asked the salesman, “How fast does it go from 0-60?” He turned to me and said, “Don’t you really want to know how fast it stops? Check to make sure it’s safe, and then slam on the brakes.”

While I pondered his question, I got off on a side road, checked my rearview mirror and slammed hard on the brakes. The experience was like no quick braking and traction experience I’ve ever had. There,” he said, “That’s what I want you to remember when you test drive any other car.”

Folks, if you are in sales, that’s a great example of how to differentiate yourself from the competition. I asked a pretty typical question and my salesman gave me a rather untypical response – one that made me think long and hard about what matters most when considering my buying options, and one that’s probably going to make this car stand out above and beyond the rest.

Books Make the Perfect Valentines Day Gift for Children

For the month of February, order Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore and receive complimentary inscription, free shipping, plus a promotional five-sided starfish crayon! Order Your Copy Today!

Promotion ends 2/28/14

When the Water Beckons You

If you grew-up near the water, it doesn’t matter where you are – when you see it again, it beckons you closer, daring you to its rocky edge, tempting you to take off your shoes and test its temperature with the tips of your french manicured, but otherwise bare toes. It’s all you can do not to stay and frolic there awhile, where you can conjure up your days of youth, and make architectural plans in your head. In that setting your mind becomes a drafting table. What would it look like if you could build a home in that very same spot?

T.A. Gould
writer, author, poet, photographer and dreamer.

Everything Happens in Threes: An Ode to an Olive Tree

I wouldn’t say I’m a superstitious person, necessarily, but sometimes things in my life – ultra-important, good or bad – seem to happen (to me) in threes. One of my favorite relatives from my childhood, my Aunt Grace, died recently (rest her soul) from a heart condition. A week later, my beloved dog, Bogie, my sweet Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, also died from a heart condition.

Two. When the second coincidence strikes, two-in-a row like that – I earnestly wait, fearful that proverbial “other shoe” will eventually drop, and something tragic will happen once more. I knew that day soon would find me, and it did. The bad news finally arrived today in the form of the sound of a loud crack from the fall.

Forty-five MPH, howling winds appearing from out of nowhere, shook it’s thick branches, rattled its frail heart, sending it soaring to a perilous demise – killing my precious olive tree. The same tree that was freshly planted right before we bought the house. The same tree that grew- up alongside my children. The tree that over-shadowed the pool where the kids splashed around while I sat beneath it, stretched out on the chaise, reading a book with my dear Bogie splayed out by my feet.

The olive tree was tall and luscious – a handsome, winding, fruit-bearing, full-of-life kind of tree, but it was growing too fast and I knew it. It was too big for its living quarters set on its small, sloping bed of Lantana and variegated Bougainvillea. After all, it had already lost a major limb a couple of years ago. I knew then my tree was in trouble, that perfect tree near where we spent impossibly perfect summer’s days – but I didn’t work to save it. And, while I loved that olive tree, today I am almost thankful and glad we didn’t try and save it, because after all – it’s just a tree and not another person or pet we could have lost and loved more. During this time when life begins speaking to me in threes, I always stop and take the time to listen, and today it rings of three. Death. And I am, in this case, thankful this is, perchance, the number three.

So, dare I say goodbye to your rustling branches on sweet summer’s days. So long to your dark fruit squished beneath our flip flops. Farewell, oh sweet olive tree…may you truly be the third in this series of threes. But, not to worry as you lie there, lifeless and snapped in two; I suspect your roots are strong and you’ll wind your way back to me.

If a tree falls in the middle of your yard, would you hear it?

Battle of the Books Practice Session

I’m quite honored to be the official emcee of Battle of the Books, sponsored by the Camarillo Public Library and the PVSD GATER program. See you at the competition!

-T

Madam: Milk Does Not Swing from a Tree

Note to My Most Stubborn Self

Madam Persnickety-Pants: You are in Europe. Henceforth into perpetuity, when ordering a latte while visiting here – you must come to understand there is only one kind of milk – it’s called MILK. It’s not 2%, fat free, almond, coconut or soy – just plain old, whole milk from the mature female of a brown-eyed bovine animal, not unlike what was served in Frankfurt, Madrid and Rome, and to you when you were an unassuming, snot-nosed kid after playing in the dirt of Northern Indiana. So, stop asking for something new in your froth, because the subsequent disappointed pout is not becoming to a lady of your stature. Madam, here in Italy, MILK most certainly does not swing from a tree!

P.S. Milk Does Not Swing from a Tree, is a very good title for a picture book.

A Writer’s Dream from Venice, Italy

December 19th, 2014

I’m just waking up on Giudecca Island -Venice, Italy – to a volley of sights and sounds – a deliverance from the cathartic, but brooding ancient history of Rome, from where we just came. Here, I imagine, I’m in a living painting, and an artist, with his paintbrush and palette in hand – captures me and my robe-covered torso, thrust outside my unscreened window – just now at the Hilton Molino Stucky, from his own studio window across the Grand Canal.

Outside, I hear the reverberating serenade of tolling church bells, which I can pinpoint with my own eyes, to various steeples, speckled with pigeons and seagulls. Each tower stands guard of her parcel of Venezia, soaring high above, looming and majestic, and traipsing along the Canal.

Splashing waves steadily rise and fall onto the foamy, green and blue algae and barnacle-covered docks and seawalls, swept up by power boats which dot the landscape like steed on an aqua-colored, rolling field. Each ship is captained by proud, generational seamen, who glide their ships in various directions, transporting trusting townspeople and holiday tourists about their elusive city. And, it’s through this foggy haze, I know I am graced with an inspiring, omnipotent view – and it occurs to me, I must be here, in Charles Dickens’ Modern Venice, the one he imagined long ago in his “Italian Dream.”

when thought turns to hate

What makes discussion great is when thought leaders advocate, debate, pontificate, commiserate, relate, educate and collaborate…until thought turns to spate, promotes hate, carries weight, problems accelerate, personal ideals dictate, ideas deflate, people turn irate. And, then it’s too late.

-TA Gould

Would Your Child’s Teacher Enjoy Free Books?

This month, I am giving away Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore. Twenty-four autographed books will go to one special PK or K-5 teacher and her classroom. All you have to do is write individually on my Author’s Page on Facebook- not here in this post – why “your” teacher deserves the gift of books in his or her classroom. The story with the most likes on my wall gets the books. Contest ends 12/31. Who knows, I might even pay that class a visit sometime in 2015. Approximate retail value of the books is $500. Happy Holidays!

Tonia

A Family Christmas Pictorial

Underwood Family Farms. We found the tree!

Come here, cute stuff! Let me squeeze the dickens out of you in front of a tree that isn’t ours.

Sure dad. Park the car under a big tree that overshadows the tree we picked out on top of our car.

I cropped out the fact that both of my men are wearing shorts on a day we picked-out our Christmas tree. Note my chilly weather attire. In their defense, it was 73 degrees outside. I was burning up.

As I was shooting this picture. Santa told Miles that I wanted a Cabbage Patch doll when I was a little girl. I reminded Santa – yes, but it never came. Miles smiled.

A big old wad of tangled lights. John can handle this. I’m not equipped.

What was in the 20-gallon storage bin (labeled “SHOES”) taking-up all that space in the garage, you ask? One string of lights and three bows. No shoes in sight.

You thought I was kidding about the SHOES, right?

What are these weird, fake plants doing in the holiday decorations? Hmmm.

He always looks like he’s waiting for me to leave the room so he can pee on the tree. He never does. But, I always think he will, eventually pee on the tree when I’m not looking.

Found another giant bin in the garage filled with only one angel, one star and one string of lights. WHO puts this stuff away?

You thought I lied about the peeing on the tree thing? There’s my dog again just waiting for me to turn my back so he can snatch a chocolate. (Note the glass is almost empty.)

The stockings are up! My husband asked me if I could iron them. What? They are made of felt. No one irons felt. Wait. Do they?

I asked John to stand behind the tree while he was stringing the lights, because he was in boxers. No one needs to see that. P.S. That’s his annoyed face.

“Here mom! Let me help you hang ornaments!” What a good son.

One of those is a crystal wedding present. He’s broken two ornaments after hanging five ornaments.

It was a three glass of wine kind of night. #deckthehalls

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Where do all the unstrung ornaments go? #ornamentgraveyard

I love this Santa. He takes up too much room, but I love him.

A Personal Path to Growth

This week, I’m especially thankful – thankful I have a solid roof over my head and a home with windows and doors, and readily available food hand-picked from a market, proper medicine and supplies, running water and yes, definitely yes, flushing toilet facilities and a roll of paper always at an arm’s reach to me.

I’m equally thankful I’ve seen with my own eyes, through experiential and cultural travel, a part of the world along the Caribbean Coast, in developing Nicaragua – so now I know what it means to call myself truly fortunate.

I’m thankful for the opportunities, present and past, I’ve had bestowed upon me simply because I’m a red, white and blue, flag-waving American, and thankful to know I could, if I had to, live without surplus and modern conveniences, electricity and things that don’t really matter if it came down to instinctual survival. I am heartened and enlightened to know there are nations of people everywhere, especially in developing countries, that know far more about survival than many of us ever could. And, it is they that have much to show us on what that really means, and globally, we can each benefit from showcasing our cultural differences in a non-exploitative, educational way.

I’m thankful to know I can survive under dire circumstances because I’ve seen people, with my own eyes, who have literally nothing and yet maybe, in some ways, they have everything they could ever want and need, because they know how to live and thrive in some of the poorest conditions on the planet and still know what it means to be a part of a community and to love and support their families.

I’m thankful that I can now put my personal judgements and biases aside, because I’ve seen impoverished children, far more impoverished than I ever was growing up – living below the poverty line in Midwestern America. While many of the people I met may be lacking in opportunity, Nicaraguan children still smile and are happy, because they are each cared for by an entire village of people, and causes, who invest their hearts and souls into their wellbeing and care, despite economic conditions.

Mostly, I am thankful that I have stumbled upon the Finding Corte Magore project which has put me on a personal path to growth and the opportunity to work and mindshare with some of the smartest and caring people I can ever hope to know. I am thankful that we have “found” Corte Magore and that I have had the great pleasure of coming to know the Campbell family, and their beautiful, private island of Hog Cay, Nicaragua, and that I have personally earned their family’s trust and support in the Finding Corte Magore project. It’s a huge undertaking and I’m comforted to know, it will take our own village of incredible people, to raise this project to be everything it promises to be.

See you on Corte Magore!
The Finding Corte Magore Project
Coming Soon on Hog Cay, Nicaragua

Tonia Allen Gould

The Finding Corte Magore Project, Live in Nicaragua

Day 1:
We woke-up in Managua, Nicaragua’s Capital. We had hoped to be on the future site of the Finding Corte Magore project today on Hog Cay, but our flight to Bluefields, Nicaragua cancelled due to a tropical depression that moved in. We took advantage of the rain delay and Team Finding Corte Magore hired a driver and we traversed our way to historical Grenada. We hit the streets and really got to be tourists on foot and from inside a horse carriage. The highlight of our day was spending time out on Lago Nicaragua and getting caught in the rain.

A Dream Coming Closer to True

By Tonia Allen Gould,
AKA: #ArcheryMom

There’s a common theme in my family and it has to do with all of us daring to dream BIG. Allowing our children the freedom to dream is a value my husband and I have instilled in our children, pretty much since birth. We believe that no one should ever squelch someone else’s dreams no matter how crazy and impossible the dream may sound. After all, I’m currently working on developing an entire 28-acre island along the Caribbean Coast of Nicaragua for social good. Had I not dreamt the impossible, and had my family not supported me along my journey, I wouldn’t be in the throes of conquering my dream in such a magnificent way through the Finding Corte Magore project.

So, it comes as no surprise to me that my son, Miles, has a gargantuan dream of his own. For the past two and half years, ever since he picked-up his first bow and arrows at a resort during my husband’s company picnic, Miles has dreamt of one day making it to the Olympics. But, being “good enough” is only half the battle for him. The trouble is, his bow is making his dream impossible–that is, unless compound bows are ever allowed into the Olympics alongside their counterparts, the recurve bow.

Still, all that isn’t stopping Miles from going after his dreams. My twelve-year-old currently holds the California State Champion title in both indoor and outdoor archery in the compound bowman division. During this year’s California State Outdoor Championship, in Long Beach, Miles set a new California 30M state record held since 2009 of 355. Miles broke the record with a score of 356 out of 360. It takes laser-sharp focus to shoot a nearly perfect score in a high-stakes tournament like that one.

Maybe there is hope on the horizon for our young compound bowman yet. All his successes have taken Miles one step closer to his Olympic dream, because Miles has been invited by USA Archery, the archery governing body of the Olympics, to try-out for the Compound Junior Dream Team at a week-long selection camp held at the Olympic Training Center in Chula Vista, California. Up until now, the Junior Dream Team consisted of 36 of the most skilled and promising Olympic-style archers in the country, all shooting recurve. But, recently, compound archers have been added to the program and Miles hopes to earn his spot on the team, as a compound bowman, and one step closer to his Olympic Dream.

Even if the compound bow never makes it into the Olympics, if selected to the Junior Dream Team (JDT), Miles will intensively train weeklong at the Olympic Training Center once a quarter with some of the best junior archers in the country, regardless of which bow they are shooting. Between training camps, JDT coaches and archers will continue to train together by utilizing video conferencing via the internet.

Shooting at Miles’ level takes a lot of practice. He shoots an average of 100 arrows a day on a range safely set-up on our backyard sport court. Miles is privately coached by World Champion Compound Archer, John Norberg. He shoots a Hoyt Freestyle Compound Bow, 35 lbs., with 70% let-off. He releases with a Carter Evolution Plus back tension release. He uses PSA Radial X Weave Pro 100 arrows with Blazer vanes.

Here’s to dreaming big, son! Good luck this month at selection camp and keep dreaming, no matter what the outcome is, this time around.

#GOTEAMMILES

Love, #ArcheryMom

Just a follow-up to the post: We are so proud of our dreamer, Miles B. Gould, who made the FIRST EVER COMPOUND Junior Dream Team under Head Coach, Linda Beck! Miles is elated beyond belief. (Needless to say, so is the rest of his family!)

Where Autumn Never Comes

On Saturday, a box arrived on my front porch, and I remembered an old friend back home in Indiana recently asked me for my address. The package was fairly large and perfunctorily, I pondered what could be inside; the box felt as light as air in my hands when I stooped over to pick it up.

Curiously, I tore off the tape and peered inside. On top of a pile of various, vibrantly shades of fresh autumn leaves, rested a note that read:

Tonia,

I read a post of yours about missing the fall leaves of the Midwest & I thought I could help with that! I hope these bring a smile to your face and you’ll enjoy them for a little while!

Love & Miss Ya!

Regina

One lone tear rolled down my cheek. I was surprised by how overcome I was with raw emotion. After all, it was just a pile of leaves, wasn’t it? But, on the contrary, the gift was more thoughtful and meaningful than anything ever given me by a friend. It was a gift so powerful that it left me forever touched, because it was so simple. Regina knew I was a bit homesick for the Midwest and sent me a piece of HOME – vivid, reminiscent hues from my youth – all raked-up, and packaged nicely and left waiting for me on my doorstep by the mailman on an average, sunny day in California. Where Autumn never comes.

Regina’s gift is a reminder that giving isn’t about spending or going through the motions; giving is about getting personal and evoking feeling from the recipient as a result of the kindness bestowed by the gesture. If the gift is heartfelt, it will surely be richly treasured, in a way much like I felt about my wonderful, crisp pile of leaves.

As for me and my colorful treasures, I will discover fun ways to use them this fall. And, when autumn first turns to winter, I will seal them back up in Regina’s carton and use them again for another reason in a different Autumn season.

Thirty things to do with fallen leaves.

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Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore Special Price for October!

Author, Tonia Allen Gould, with Samuel T. Moore of Corte Magore Photograph by JennKL Photography: http://www.jennkl.com/

I’ve arranged a special hardcover book price for October. You can order an autographed book for $12.99 + shipping.

Stock up for the perfect holiday gift for that little loved one in your life.

Cheers!

Tonia Allen Gould

She Will Die In Her Race Against Time

Camera poised and ready to shoot, I stand and wait as the Monarch paratroopers glide in, iridescently adorned in polka-dotted trimmed uniforms of orange and black. They’ve stormed my garden, sailing over it, scanning and probing it for flight fuel to carry them along their journey.

I zero in on one lone butterfly, fluttering overhead – her wings flapping hard against the late summer’s breeze, the full span of them glistening against Midday’s high sun. She finally maneuvers low to navigate her perfect landing, descending onto the tip of the buttercup-shaped lantana where she sips her nectar, letting It nourish her completely before she takes flight again. In moments, recorded only by the click of my shutter, she drunkenly ascends and joins her airborne troop.

I am saddened to know, in probably just a few short short weeks – she will die in combat – for she has always been in a race against time, like some people I have known and loved and lost. The butterfly’s brief lifespan, despite her sheer will to live, was always destined to be fleeting. And, so I feel special that we shared our brief interlude, here in my garden, where she stayed with me awhile on her personal flight home.

Today, I Snapped A Perfect Photo of an Endangered Species

The Monarch butterfly only lives three weeks. I always feel special when I cross paths with any butterfly because they are so beautiful and here for such a short time on Earth. Incidentally, the Monarch are now an endangered species and that makes this picture even more special.The photos turned out great because she let me get right up next to her and take them.

The Monarch Butterfly is endangered. http://www.worldwildlife.org/species/monarch-butterfly