Tanara McCauley

Culturally Imagined Stories

Category: Short Stories, Songs, and Poetry

  • Only You

    This is actually a song but I don’t have any music to it yet so I’ll just post the words for now. Only You There are many things that I want So many people I care about So many ways life can hurt me Lord, You know, You know So many things I still seek So much…

  • The Atheists, The Agnostic, and The Not Even Sunday Christian – Truth or Fiction Story 3

    It’s Truth or Fiction Tuesday! To be eligible to win the $25 Amazon gift card remember to cast your vote using the comments box. For detailed instructions click here. We sat there–bellied up to the bar no less–debating about the Bible. The modest pub was a sectioned-off box connected to a restaurant, and it was ours for the night. Different motives…

  • Truth or Fiction Story 2 – Starting Over

    It’s Truth or Fiction Tuesday! To be eligible to win the $25 Amazon gift card remember to cast your vote using the comments box. For detailed instructions click here. Starting Over Divorce is not an option. It was a committment they’d made before they married and a slogan they’d quoted in the years since. Natalie…

  • Truth or Fiction Tuesdays, With a Giveaway on the Side

    It’s almost time!!! A couple of weeks ago I posted about upcoming fiction blogging. As promised, the first two chapters of my debut novel were posted here for little over a week, but have since been removed in order to comply with the rules of an upcoming contest I intend to enter. But no worries.…

  • When Morning Comes – A Poetic Version

    Night falls As I knew it would Bringing nothing good Though I need the rest Heart faint Leery of the tide Bent to steer this ride Into sure duress Tears break Melancholy glass But this too shall pass? This unbridled storm? Clouds form Gone now are the stars Like a song’s last bars With its memories warm…

  • Remember (A Song)

    Let Me Clarify: I’ve never considered myself a songwriter. Not officially anyway. Sure I sing songs – louder and more ambitiously than I’ll ever be capable of doing well – in the safety of my home’s four walls. And if I particularly like one, or seven, or thirty, I’ll write them down. It’s a form…