About Tara
As a child Tara’s aspiration was to be 6ft tall.
Known as “Tara Tall Tales” she told stories of being rescued from a burning building, drowning in the ocean, and all the naughty things, not she, but her imaginary friend, Menza, had done. In grade school this morphed into elaborate hourly excuses to swing from bathroom stall doors and to report ailments that required immediate attention from the nurse.
Words and the worlds they created were a part of her, heart and soul, even if she didn’t always know how to write or spell them.
This passion drove her to law school where a single word could change the outcome of a case or win an argument. In her career in international development, writing federal policy in a clear and concise way was the difference between compliance or confusion.
Now, in her fiction writing, Tara’s stories are about people, relationships, and society as she strives to use words to explore, challenge and change the world we know.
Baby Nails Can Scratch the Inside of the Uterine Sac
“I purchased a stethoscope for Aaron so he could be more involved in the pregnancy. But when he couldn’t hear my placenta growing like synthesizer music of oyster mushrooms after rain he stopped listening.”
The Razor
“Sinking into her first period desk, Stephanie whispers, “Becky has a razor!” to Olivia, hoping her friend can explain what it means. However, as usual, Olivia furrows her brow in confusion.”
When We Get Old
&
My Father’s Toolbox
“…pretending we are old means scrunching everything up, our bodies, our faces, our voices, we even tuck in our shirts and pull up our skirts to just below our pretend sagging breasts.”
That Thing I Lost
“I pick up bags full of fresh blueberries, brie and orange juice, the kind of food Chad buys for my birthday because he thinks fancy restaurants are a rip-off. He is right though, they really markup the booze.”
The Brown Paper Bag
“The line of middle aged men seeps out of the fertility clinic. They all clutch brown
paper lunch bags.”
Burying Straw
“‘Daddy, I’m here’ I said, and his eyes looked into mine as I joked that he couldn’t be an asshole to the doctors this time. Then his eyes were done lookin!”
In Repose
“His Father is late, again. His Father is not “stuck in traffic” late or “forgot the suitcase” late. No, His Father is, “Aaron will arrive home distressed and crying so hard he will be unable to eat dinner and fall asleep in his clothes” late.”
Running Free
“Then I felt that distinct dampness in my underwear and wiped scarlet. On my way home, through tears, I saw Open blink at the pet store.”
Acknowledgment
“...things are only divine or horrible for Dan, which is why they never last, why our family moved yearly and relationships ended even more quickly then that, and why my sister and I both found spouses with secure families, the kind that always host Thanksgiving for everyone…”
A Mother’s Worst Nightmare
“Her face is in the shadow of her hood but little vapor clouds buoy up each time she exhales. Her chubby fingers clench the boat line, I had told her sternly, ‘never let it go!’”
Fondling Fruit
“I used to carelessly caress fruit. From cardboard boxes at the corner stand on my way home to multilevel mega-markets that require an entire morning to peruse, I would tenderly stroke it all.”
