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Tanara McCauley

~ Love Knows Color

Tanara McCauley

Tag Archives: amwriting

The Cookie Jar

07 Wednesday Oct 2015

Posted by tanaramccauley in Faith, Relationships, and Other Topics

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

academics, achievement, amreading, amwriting, author, baking, books, calling, children, Christ, college, cookies, faith, family, galletas, Mom, parenting, passion, priorities, purpose, pursuit, relationships, student, success, writer


“A cookie jar, though beautiful, will always disappoint if found empty.”

My cookie jar is empty.

It’s seen a batch or two–maybe–in the months since I returned home from Mount Hermon’s Christian Writers Conference; but for the most part it’s been unoccupied. Relieved of duty. Free of tenants.

And for a while I blamed my husband.

See, we had a plan. As you probably know from a previous post, my youngest daughter started kindergarten this year, freeing up my afternoons. And according to the plan I would take the first year to write full time with keys blazing and submissions flying.

But somehow in my short, five-day conference absence the plan changed. Just up and flew away somewhere. Out there. Over the rainbow. And in its place: “You need to finish your degree.”

Say wha?

My arguments against this new scheme raged vehement. Very artistic and author-ish too. Something about sensible suits and academic labels, the futility of human standards of achievement, the colors of my creative mind fading…you get the picture. When that failed I took the practical financial approach.

Nothing worked. God has a new plan, saith my husband, and a degree for the missus therein lies.

Well alrighty then, Misters.

That was six months ago. I saw evidence of God’s hand in the orchestration, including a ripple effect in other areas. Then I discovered I could finish much earlier than expected. I snatched that baton and sprinted off with it. On top of that aim I added honor student. And because a writer must always be reading and writing I made sure to check those boxes too. Super productive. No time for baking cookies.

I felt very much like degree people feel. Accomplished. Potentially important. But in what way? And to whom?

The answers came when my son returned home one night from Awana with a list of two things he wanted to do better. One of them read:

Leave Mommy alone when she’s doing homework.

SLAYED.

Reading those words made me consider how many times I’ve said them in the past six months, and how many times I haven’t played Terraria with my son, or done Zumba with the girls, or watched My Little Pony, or baked the weekend’s cookies; all because I’d immersed myself in God’s plan–stretching it into something self-serving–instead of remaining immersed in God who keeps my priorities straight.

My kids are awesome little people. I’m proud of them. And if I graduated summa cum laude and became a bestselling author whose books hit the big screen they’d be proud of me too. And all of it would be a pretty package to behold.

But if the intimacy is not there, if I don’t remain a present, attentive mother who knows them and is known by them–who keeps school and writing and whatever else comes up out of family time–then what we’re headed for is no better than an empty cookie jar.

And that will never be a part of God’s plan.

My jar is still empty, but now it’s only because the cookies are cooling.

Your turn: Have you ever found yourself running ahead (or away) from what God’s doing in your life?

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The Labor of the Journey

05 Saturday Sep 2015

Posted by tanaramccauley in Faith, Relationships, and Other Topics

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

amwriting, author, Christ, Christian, diligence, faith, good works, inspiration, journey, kindergarten, Labor day, perseverance, talent, works, writer

IMG_2430

“You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit, and that your fruit should remain…” John 15:16

My youngest is in the first weeks of her kindergarten career. After years of seeing her older siblings off to school and spending her days with me all to herself, the adjustment hasn’t been painless.

She greets Monday mornings with tolerance. Tuesdays with grudging acceptance. Wednesdays with stoicism. By Thursday her patience has run out. She flings back the covers, fed up to the full, and demands to know: “Again?!?”

Her annoyance amuses me, especially since she actually loves school when she’s there. It’s the getting there–and all that comes with it–that bothers her. The getting up, getting ready, getting denied the freedom to spend her day how she chooses, getting the task of bringing home work; work that she must get done.

She’d love to read as well as her siblings, make friends of her own, have her name on awards, have her great-grandma send her a dollar for each A. She sees what the twins have accomplished and she wants the same; she’d just rather skip over the journey and land at the destination.

I sympathize with her because I know what that feels like. I enjoy knowing I’ve done a job well. I just don’t always enjoy doing the job. Or I might like being in the midst of a good work, but I resist the need to get it started or experience pessimism before it’s finished.

Perhaps it’s the resentment of obligation, or the loss of freedom, or the overwhelming scope of the task that makes the individual steps seem insufficient, or maybe it’s a combination of those things. The Good Work seems so elusive that we lose faith in the constant work–the again, and again, and yet again work–it takes to get there.

Natural intelligence, which my daughter has, and the natural talent that so many of us possess is not enough in itself to get us where God wants us to go. We must work hard with diligence and patience, building on the unique gifts God created in us.

And we know by God’s promises that our work will be rewarded and our lives fruitful, if we couple our faith with works, and persevere in the labor He has given us to do on the journey He has called us to take.

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Summer Reading

16 Saturday May 2015

Posted by tanaramccauley in Book Reviews, Faith, Relationships, and Other Topics, Writing and Pursuing Publication

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

A Voice in the Wind, amreading, amwriting, books, Brandon Mull, By Darkness Hid, christine caine, Dan B. Allender, Finding Amanda, Francine Rivers, Jill Williamson, Kristy Cambron, Nancy Farmer, novels, R. J. Palacio, reading, Robin Patchen, Spirit Animals, summer, The Black Rose, The Butterfly and the Violin, The House of the Scorpion, Thomas B. Costain, To Be Told, undaunted, Wild Born, wonder, writing

bookmarathonSchool’s out next week, which translates into more time for reading and writing, both for me and the kids.

While I have quite a few books on my to-be-read (TBR) list already, I’m always looking to add more, and now is a better time than ever to swap recommendations.

If you have a few novels or non-fiction books you think are must-reads (middle-grade and/or adult), please share in the comments. In return, here are a few I’ve read recently (with one or two exceptions) I think you might enjoy:

  1. The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer. The first of a two book dystopian series, this book is creative and creepily realistic in its portrayal of the future.
  2. Wonder by R.J. Palacio. A book for middle-grade kids, Wonder had my whole family reaching for the tissues. It explores both the darkness and beauty of the human spirit, and prompts self-reflection of a noble variety in the kids who read it.
  3. The Butterfly and the Violin by Kristy Cambron. A hybrid historical and contemporary fiction novel that explores the origins of a Nazi-era painting, this book is simply…beautiful.
  4. By Darkness Hid by Jill Williamson. This is the first of a three book inspirational fantasy series. If you’re into Young Adult/Science Fiction/Fantasy/Speculative, you should check it out. I loved it.
  5. Undaunted: Daring to Do What God Calls You to Do by Christine Caine. This non-fiction title is like a call to arms for those seeking to live out their purpose.
  6. Wild Born (Spirit Animals #1) by Brandon Mull. Another middle-grade novel, this book is best read with your kids because of some of the violence. The story, however, is wonderful. This book is the first in a series of seven. Not that I’m into series or anything :-).
  7. Finding Amanda by Robin Patchen. I just finished this contemporary gem. Filled with suspense, conflict, and intrigue, this book is what inspirational fiction needs.
  8. A Voice in the Wind by Francine Rivers. Perhaps one of the greatest novels of all time. If you read nothing else, read this one. Then read the next two books in the series :-).
  9. To Be Told: Know Your Story, Shape Your Future by Dan B. Allender, PHd. I’m still reading this one. It’s so rich I couldn’t keep it off the list. Take your time reading, absorbing, and putting into practice the insights this book has to offer.
  10. The Black Rose by Thomas B. Costain. This book is one of my all time favorites. A friend once referred to herself as the Tristram to my Walter. To know how precious such a sentiment is…well you have to read the book.

And that concludes my list. I’d love for you to add to it. Have fun reading this summer, but don’t forget to live some adventures of your own :-).

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The Knight in Blue Jeans

06 Friday Mar 2015

Posted by tanaramccauley in Faith, Relationships, and Other Topics, Writing and Pursuing Publication

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

amreading, amwriting, books, Christian fiction, dating, fiction, hero, heroine, knight in shining armor, marriage, protagonist, reading, realism, relationships, romance novel

200247260-001

My phone alerted me to a text. I paused to read it and shook my head. It was from my husband, his latest response to a series of messages between us. I tapped the reply square. “You’re such a man.”

And I didn’t mean that in a “you’re the hunk of my dreams and I swoon at the thought of you” sense, though he most certainly is (go ahead, gag). The context was more: only a man would think that, type that, and actually send that.

 

Because the average man is a far cry from the poetry-spouting knight we concocted in our imaginations at girlhood. And though he might start out playing all the cards he thinks a woman wants to see in the game of courting, over time he transitions back into the flesh-and-blood guy God created him to be: quite direct, impossibly practical, and in need of a good nudge now and then when it comes to the “r” word.

And that type of realism is what I like to see in a good romance novel.

For me the guy who gets the girl has got to be believable. He makes mistakes, says the wrong thing, does the stupid thing, misses the hint, snaps back when he’s fed up, and has thicker skin than the lady sniffling across from him. Good looking is nice, though not required.

He’s also considerate, repentant, makes an effort to “get it,” loves his lady with a vengeance, and would lay down and die for her. He’s patient when she’s driving him insane, strong when she’s weak, a warrior when she’s threatened, and chases her when she runs.

His love for her–and the conflicting way it makes him vulnerable and strong at the same time–that’s romantic. And when I reach “The End” of a novel–whether I’ve written or read it–that’s the kind of romance I want to know exists in the hero.

Even if that makes him the kind of guy who sends a “you’re such a man” text from time to time.

Your turn: What’s your favorite kind of book and why?

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A Wrecked Perspective

27 Tuesday Jan 2015

Posted by tanaramccauley in Faith, Relationships, and Other Topics, Writing and Pursuing Publication

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

amediting, amwriting, car accident, car wreck, Chevy Suburban, Christ, collision, comfort, encouragement, faith, fear, inspiration, joy, kindness, love, parenting, perspective, thankfulness, Thanksgiving, Trials, writer, writing

thanks

“In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
~ 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Recently, on a day like any other, my three kids and I set out for an evening of gymnastics and Kenpo practice, with a potential coffee stop squeezed in. The smell of mint wafted from my older daughter’s tea mug. The youngest girl crunched on a carrot as if it were her last meal, and my boy pretended to finish homework (I saw him tuck a toy in the jacket of his Gi before leaving the house).

We sat in the left turning lane behind a line of cars, underneath a partly cloudy sky. Tires screeched. Metal crunched. We lunged forward. Slammed backward. I screamed.

My pulse pounded in my ears, and I couldn’t hear anything else for a moment. The surge of adrenaline made me dizzy. I couldn’t believe I’d been hit, or that my kids were in the car.

I turned to them. “Is everybody okay?” They were shocked, but otherwise unharmed. Praise God.

I got out, shaking, and walked to the car responsible, its front end demolished. Behind the deployed airbag sat a young man wearing a dazed look of dread.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

He looked himself over and nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely sure. “Can I drive?” He pointed at a parking lot. Smoke drifted up from the remains of his hood, fluid poured beneath it.

“No. You should probably get out.”

By the time the ordeal ended, the police, a fire truck, and the boy’s parents and sister had arrived on the scene, and a tow truck was on its way to haul off the totaled car. I pulled my Chevy Suburban (a vehicle I shamelessly endorse) onto the road with minor rear-end damage.

Before leaving, I’d assured the boy and his family, “We’re fine. No one is hurt. It’s not the end of the world.” But for that eighteen year old, I could tell his world was crashing fast. He looked distraught, despite his parents and sister loving on him and stressing how much they cared about him and not the car.

I wanted to comfort him myself, pull him in a hug, wipe his tears and make certain he understood that the wreck, as horrible as it seemed now, would be just a memory someday. But he’d had enough trauma. The last thing he needed was some stranger bear-hugging and petting him.

He saw the totaled car and cried over what that meant for his family. What it would cost them. How they would replace it. He didn’t consider their joy over the fact that their son had walked away from a thousand pounds of crumpled metal unscathed.

But I did. And it made me look at my own kids, my own life, my own set of problems, my own trove of joys. And it made me thankful.

Thankful that even though my son and I have a homework showdown every afternoon, he’s come home safe every afternoon. Thankful that although my daughter’s already showing signs of adolescent attitude, I get to kiss her sleeping face every night when she looks most like an angel.

Thankful because, while my edits are taking much longer than I intended, they’re getting done, and I’ve got somewhere to send them. Thankful that no matter what the day brings–good or bad–I’m loved from on high by One who suffered and died for me.

Sometimes it takes a crisis to wreck our negative perspectives; to take our eyes off all that’s wrong with the world and refocus them to see the joy, the love, the good.

I regretted not saying all I wanted to comfort the young driver before I left. I’m thankful his driver information comes with an address where I can send a card of encouragement. I can only hope I don’t look like a stalker when it arrives.

Your turn: What are you thankful for?

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Moving Right Along

26 Wednesday Nov 2014

Posted by tanaramccauley in Writing and Pursuing Publication

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

amediting, amwriting, blog posts, blogging, Christianity, editing, faith, growth, living in the past, moving forward, progress, self-help, trust God, writer, writers

oneway

 

Let your eyes look straight ahead, and your eyelids look right before you.
Proverbs 4:25

Not too long ago I was alerted to a new comment on one of my old blog posts.

I had to read my entry for context before responding, and found myself frowning. At the time that post was written, I had a thing for semicolons.

What started out as a harmless reply attempt turned into a critique and edit session. I whipped that thing into shape, replied, and was just about to sign out, when the link to another old post caught my attention.

Hmm. What’s this one look like?

I pulled it up and rolled my eyes, asking, “Tanara, could, you, possibly, add, one, more, comma?” The actual writing? Don’t ask.

That one ground into presentable submission, I attacked a few others. Some of them were so bad they fought back.

Though my schedule’s already packed, I convinced myself something had to be done. But before I could commence Operation Edit a Hundred Blog Posts, the following verse came to remembrance:

“Behold, I will do a new thing, shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” 
Isaiah 43:19

As an unpublished novelist, it’s tempting to make sure every public word I’ve written lives up to my ever-increasing standards for writing. It may seem a worthy endeavor, but at the end of the day it’s simply a prideful attempt at perfectionism.

To learn and write new things, looking forward and not behind, is to let God guide and grow me.

He won’t make roads in the wilderness and rivers in the desert if I choose to camp there with my own little pickax and water bucket. And I can’t move forward if I keep tinkering with what’s done and over with.

Should I edit my novels? Of course. Year-old blog posts? No.

Glimpses into my writing past should result in praise for what God’s done since.

The foundations of a road have been laid, a riverbed hewn, a writer made better and growing still.

A writer determined to keep moving right along.

Your turn: When are you tempted to dwell in the past? What helps you to move forward?

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The Write Kind of Life

17 Monday Nov 2014

Posted by tanaramccauley in Writing and Pursuing Publication

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

amreading, amwriting, authors, books, chocolate, coffee, community, editing, inspiration, relationships, writers

IMG_9213.JPG
Writing is a solitary business.

Sure, lots of people do it. But when it’s time to put words to page, the writer is often isolated behind four walls.

We talk to ourselves. We get talked to by inspirational quotes we’ve framed, tacked, or taped all around the writing den, not to mention characters we’ve made up.

We stare into space. Drum fingers. Type. Delete. Backspace. Rewrite.

Minutes pass into hours. Hours produce hundreds of words, maybe thousands. Or not.

And we do this, enjoying or enduring it, day in and day out.

Alone.

Yet there are things that bind us. Little constants, partaken of or adhered to by writers, that act as invisible dots. From that keyboard clacking in the cubbyhole of an office, to the one tap-tap-tapping from the lounge chair on the beach.

A sip of something hot and steaming between paragraphs.

A nibble on sweet treats at the close of a scene.

A dip into the pages of someone else’s book while we break from writing our own.

Coffee. Chocolate. Chai.

#anwriting to #amreading.

Word counts. Daily goals. Settings. Arcs. Plot points. Characters. Dark moments. Platform.

These things take the solitary, isolated writer and give her a place among thousands of sisters and brothers who live the writer life.

The write kind of life. And we dare not trade it.

Your turn: What are your favorite things about the community you belong to in your line of work?

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When the Odd Bird Flies

09 Sunday Nov 2014

Posted by tanaramccauley in Faith, Relationships, and Other Topics

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

amwriting, author, beauty, Christian living, gymnastics, inspiration, motivation, odd bird, parable, perseverance, purpose, purposeful living, relationships, swan, ugly duckling, writing

oddbird

Odd bird.

It’s an expression my family uses for something or someone who strikes us as unusual. The context can be positive, such as a quirky or endearing oddity; or it can be of the don’t-make-eye-contact variety.

A bird of the former type attends my daughter’s gymnastics school. She’s tall and pale, all angles and elbows. A haunting beauty if I ever saw one. Glance at her slumped shoulders and ducked head, and it’s obvious she doesn’t think so.

“I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” Psalm 139:14

Each week I watch her practice, this swan in the making. I have never seen a cartwheel so awkward. When her legs are in the air, she pulls them in almost like a frog’s, as if she’s not quite sure how to manage their full length, and maybe doesn’t want to bring attention to how long they are. Her tumbles and rolls are just as unbalanced.

Despite her weaknesses, before every maneuver her eyes light with a fierce sort of determination, as if in her head she’s saying, “I know I’m not good at this, but I will be.”

And for just a moment, that few seconds before she has to run down the mat, or hop up on the beam, or climb the rope, she folds out of her ball of insecurity and self-consciousness. She squares her shoulders, clenches her fists, takes a deep, shaky breath, and that little beauty puts her all into it.

Her finish is clumsy. She looks down, probably not wanting to see the response to what she presumes is failure. Still she gets back in line and gives it another go. And each week she gets a little better.

Watching her moves me. I can’t help thinking that maybe when the Father watches many of us, including me, He sees what I see in her: fear of failure, fear of being seen failing, insecurity over what we must look like to others when we put ourselves out there and finish clumsy, doubt that we’ll ever succeed despite how much effort we put into it.

And yet we don’t give up, because something inside won’t let us. Maybe it’s the fire burning within that speaks to the purpose of our creation, or maybe our Creator Himself, who knows the plans He has for our lives and spurs us gently onward.

“He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1:6

Writing is hard. Parenting is hard. Marriage, friendship, art, work. Life.

Everything we endeavor to do well can be laden with periods of ungainly tumbles and uncoordinated leaps. We fall, trip, bruise–and look as odd as a six-legged horse in the process. But like the little gymnast, we shake it off and do it again.

Because birds don’t fly on the ground.

Odd birds are only odd for a time, enduring momentary setbacks and temporary failures as we flap about. One day we’ll take flight, soaring high to all that God has called us to for His glory alone.

Right now we’re just strengthening our wings.

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Gone Fishing, Author Style

02 Sunday Nov 2014

Posted by tanaramccauley in Writing and Pursuing Publication

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

amwriting, author, Christian fiction, diligence, editing, faith, fishing for words, fishing skills, hard work, nanowrimo, novel, perseverance, word count, writers, writing, writing strategies

This was originally posted on 11/09/2013. It’s that time of year again…

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As a child, I fished with my father. Dark, quiet nights, sometimes nothing but the calm sound of water lapping the bank, or the buzz of mosquitoes testing the perimeter of whatever insect repellent we wore. It’s been a long time since we’ve done that.

Lately, however, those memories are rushing back. Memories of fish too large for my lanky little arms, fighting against me, tugging so hard on the line I feared a time or two that I’d be pulled in instead of the fish being pulled out.

Memories of determination, refusing to give up; of reeling in those bullish fish.

The cause of these memories? National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), and this commitment I’ve made to the program to have 50,000 words by the end of November; the side bet I’ve waged with myself to hit 80,000.

Striving to meet an ambitious daily word count–against all odds and come what may–is like fishing for words that are fighting to stay in the water.

Some days inspiration sleeps in. Creativity goes MIA. Skill leaves a “Be Back Later” sign on the door. And the words are left to swim amuck in an unsupervised pool of mockery and defiance; determined not to be hooked, refusing to be tamed.

I’d really rather not fight with the slippery suckers. Especially when the house is asleep, coffee’s lukewarm, and I’m getting a series of teasing tugs on my line with no bites.

Searching, straining, desperate for words, it gets tempting to just cut the line. Reel it in empty. Fish again another day. Maybe.

But to do that–to give up–is to get pulled in.

When I fished with my father I never got pulled in.

Strained a few muscles. Got mud on my knees. Suffered scrapes.

On the flip side my muscles grew stronger, my stance firm.

I didn’t quit then. I won’t quit now. One day, one word, one catch at a time.

Going fishing. Be back soon. ❤

And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart. ~ Galatians 6:9 NKJV

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A Writer’s Praise

25 Saturday Oct 2014

Posted by tanaramccauley in Writing and Pursuing Publication

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

amwriting, author, blessed, Christ, Christian fiction, inspiration, praise, psalm, Thanksgiving, writer, writing

BlessedBeLordWriterPsalm 144:1

 

 

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