Thea’s Counting

Thea’s Counting

March 9, 2024

“Listen mom!”  Yells Thea, “listen Christina!”  She excitedly counts down from 20.  She’s been doing that for a while, but today had both of us in the living room when she was showing off.  She had just read a picture book to Laud and spelled four or five words from memory. 

“Wow, Thea! High five!” Christina smiles, “how many sisters do you have?”

“Wait!”

*excited little giggles and a hopping Thea bounds toward the barracks*

“Wait?” Christina laughs and looks at me, “there’s no one down there.” 

True.  Becky is at Pensacola.  Kimberly, Jaquline, Jillian, and Lucas are at gym.  I smile and laugh.  “She’s counting.”

Christina laughs harder, “she’s counting the beds!”

*Thea races in, jumps over Christina on the couch, and ends up standing in the corner of the couch* “Five!  I have five sisters because we have six beds!”

Christina is still laughing.  She pauses enough to give Thea a high five and comments to me, “she even subtracted herself from the total.”

“How many brothers do you have?” Christina challenges.  Thea smirks, “two but if you don’t count Laud, only one.”

“Why wouldn’t you count Laud?”

I’m hiding my face because Thea is conniving.  Little cheeky child looks pauses her bouncing to look straight at Christina and reply, “because he doesn’t have a bed yet, just a bassinet.”  Leaving us smiling and chuckling, my just-turned-five year old skips back to the playroom. 

I am so thankful for the joy God gives us through the smiles and laughter children bring to our home!

What cute funny antic made you smile today?

Thank you for reading,

Type at you later!

~Nancy Tart

Easter Cuteness

April 30, 2019

Easter Cuteness

Easter Sunday was so much fun for us this year!

Not only did our little Thea officially turn two months old on Easter, but neither Louis nor I was working, neither of us was tired, and we had the whole weekend to ourselves!

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Baby Thea dressed up (minus her cute socks and shoes) in her Easter dress from Aunt Becca & sister-cousin Anastasia!

Louis and the girls dyed eggs – our brown and pink eggs made some unique color experiments and tasty “angel eggs.” (Grandma Joanne started that; she redeemed the deviled eggs so they are “angel eggs” now.)

Louis was waking me up almost every night in the week before Easter as he excitedly told me about the newest item he got for the girls’ baskets – crazy plastic grass, cool candy, a bag of change for the plastic eggs and such.

We love family time!  On Easter, we got up early, went to church, and talked all about the first Easter Sunday and Jaquline decided we had to watch a Jesus story movie – “The Greatest Story Ever Told” is the go-to for us.  About lunchtime, we snacked on angel eggs and fruit while Louis crafted an amazing ham – this would be early dinner.

And… Egg hunt.  The girls learned that Spring Egg Hunts were a result of people letting their hens and ducks out to range in the spring grass and then having to find their eggs for food – young children were tasked for this job and finding the eggs meant the end of winter harshness and the beginning of spring’s bounty.

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But for us, Easter Egg Hunt means “see who can hide it best” (for the hiders, adults and teens) and “see who can find the hardest eggs” (for the younger ones).  Kimberly decided she is still a youngling for Easter and joined the hunt as a hunter!

Becky took some pictures.

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Christina’s hardest eggs were teal, Becky’s were green, and I hid the hard-boiled ones.  Mine I wanted found quickly, so most were just rolled in the patches of clover so their stickers showed.

Down to four remaining eggs… One Teal, one Green, and two Boiled!  Mom ended up winning with the “hardest” egg being inches from the walkway in plain sight!

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Becky made up some adorable pictures with the baskets.  Check this link to see her Guinea Pigs in the Easter Basket pictures!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

The Coldest Day

When you’ve worked almost two years to get a harvest and a deep freeze threatens; you save the navel oranges! Jaquline’s Birthday Story

January 4, 2019

The Coldest Day

This is story of the coldest day for us in winter 2009-2010:

It was the second winter in the farm house.  We loved that house because there were twelve citrus trees, a huge ancient fig tree, an Asian pear tree, tons of mulberry, pecan, and oak trees, an old neglected trio of muscadine grape vines on the arbor, and blackberry vines in thickets around the perimeter fence.

We had worked feeding and tending each of the trees for almost two years.  Most had given us hearty thanks in the form of yummy, sweet fruit.  Well, the pecans actually were eaten by the over abundant squirrel population and one of the orange trees was sour so when we wanted lemonade we actually just popped off six of those giant sour oranges and made orangeade instead.  It was light yellow in color and except for a slight orange flavor; the girls thought it was lemonade!

There were two tangerines, one pink grapefruit, three yellow grapefruit, one tangelo, two small orange, one lime, and one sour orange tree that had given us fruit after the first winter.  Since it had been a mild winter with no deep freezes, the fruit was sweet and had set on the trees over spring as we harvested it in perfectly manageable sets.

Only the navel orange hadn’t yielded fruit.  Until this year.  It was so loaded we had to support the weaker limbs with stilts despite heavy pruning during the summer!  We were so excited because we’d been told it was the sweetest fruit but almost never had a crop.  It looked like we had accomplished our goal!

But this winter had only just started.

We’d already had almost a week of mild freezes – just enough for frost, but not enough to freeze the fruit.  Grandma Jeanette had called them “sugar freezes.”  Now I knew that was because citrus fruit needs five to seven days of light freezes to sweeten.  However, the one deep freeze could destroy the whole crop as it would freeze the fruit through the skins and rot them.  We had watered down each tree carefully just before sunrise after each of the light freezes, but the forecast said tomorrow, January 7, 2010, we would wake to temperatures below 28 degrees.  In our little area, we sunk two to four degrees below what the news said every time.

This would be a fruit-killing deep freeze.

And of all our citrus, the navel orange had the thinnest skin so would be the most affected.

I determined we would harvest all that fruit today.

We didn’t do school lessons, but immediately after milking the cow and feeding the chickens, we tugged the blue fruit bucket (a giant plastic washtub that held about 12 bushels) over to the tree and started picking.  I sent Christina and Rebeccah into the tree.  At 6 and 4 they were already experts at climbing through citrus trees avoiding the horridly sharp thorns.  They scrambled up and out to get the highest fruit.  We worked on for hours, singing and laughing.  And my belly contracted.  I was 41 weeks pregnant.

After her work was over, Grandma Joanne showed up.  Seems there’s this old wives tale that if you reach up a lot while you’re pregnant, your baby will be all wrapped up in their cord.  (Maybe so, as 2-year-old Kimberly, who was racing around tossing fruit her sisters plopped on the ground into the bucket, had been born with her cord around her neck.  I hung clothes out on a line her whole pregnancy.)  I told her I wasn’t wasting this fruit.  I offered her a bag.  She didn’t think that was funny.  We were almost done.  We were on our third bucket and there were only a few scattered edge pickings left.  Rebeccah had decided they were unreachable.  That was why I was on the ladder to get them.  Christina was busy, putting the last bucket’s goodies into some of the fruit boxes in the garage.

Using the ladder and 4-prong rake (the girls call it the hand-tiller or the fruit-grabber depending on which use we were employing), we managed to get all of the succulent fruit off of that beautiful tree.

That night, I couldn’t sleep.  For the first time I watched all three “Lord of the Rings” extended editions back to back in the bed as I tried to sleep.  Baby was coming.

Early morning on the coldest day of our winter of 2009-2010, Jaquline Ellouise Tart was born.

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Jaquline and Grandma Joanne – Jaquline is less than an hour old.

Christina and Louis made us sweet, fresh orange juice for celebration drinks!  (And yes, Jaquline was born with a cord so long the midwife and her assistant measured it to confirm it was the longest they’d ever seen – and it was wrapped around her neck “like a winter scarf,” according to our midwife but was too long to pose a risk.)

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Jaquline and Lucas with leaves!

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Jaquline with Daddy at a football game!

Jaquline will be nine in a few days… and the story of the navel oranges picked the day before her birth is one of her favorites!   She also loves the part about how she chose to be born on the coldest day that hit our house that winter.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Pearson Christmas Party 2018

Picture overload! My family’s Christmas party 2018.

December 22, 2018

Pearson Christmas Party

Imagine twelve adults and thirteen children racing around a beautifully decorated house and every single one of them is acting like they are somewhere in that magic child age around 5 to 8.  That was our Christmas party this year.  It was the best!

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My amazing sister and brother hosted.

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Katy is always ready for a picture!

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Livy painting faces!  Anastasia is concentrating on being very still.  She was rewarded with a beautiful butterfly!

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Jaquline got snowflakes to match her dress!

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Mrs. Claus and helpers!  Tina, Christina (Christy the elf), and Mandy (Elsa-elf!)

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Liam was here, but jumped out of the way!  Brother-cousin time L-to-R JJ, Lucas, Isaac

This video shows our baby sister’s personality – it matches the hat!

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Group Selfie! Tina, Ray, Becca, Charles, Allison

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The teenage grandchildren (Becky, 13, and Christina, 15)

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Bouncy Hat plus Sherlock Pipe (both with accents…)

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The pro (Aunt Becca) teaching JJ how to take a selfie… (He knows he’s adorable!)

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Mom and the boys (silly faces): L-to-R Nathan, Ray, Tina, Charles, Louis, and Andy

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Mom and the girls: L-to-R Mary, Kayla, Katy, Allison, Tina, Becca, and me.

We did not get a group picture, or a full cousin picture, because everyone was just having too much fun!  The girls (my pictures come from Christina, Becky, and Kimberly) managed to get many active shots.

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This was our first year without my Daddy.  Katy and Andy had set up the layout so that he would have a comfy chair, a central view, close to food, close to everything in what Kimberly called “Santa Boompa’s throne.” (The chair with the footstool, Mom’s seat was supposed to be the matching one next to his.)  From this view you could see Livy’s facepainting station (she is so talented), the Selfie station (which was hilarious), the “dance floor” (right in front – so much fun!), the food and beverage buffet area was to the left (easy access to refills and the silly shenanigans going on in there), and the covered porch area was just behind it (where not just the boys were showing off their strength… or trying to).

Even though he wasn’t there, I didn’t feel like Daddy was missing.  I heard him in my brothers, Mom, and several of the children.  I heard his laugh when the boys were showing off.  I could hear him cheering each one on.  I felt his smile as Anastasia passed out gifts for each of the sister- and brother-cousins.  The little ones ran around giving drawings, toys, and hugs to each other and I felt him smile because he loved to give.  I felt his heart as Kimberly reminded me she needed my phone to “take pictures and movies for Grandma,” because “Granddaddy always likes to get pictures for Grandma!”

My Daddy’s legacy lives as the humor and fun he always had rubbed off on us kids and our children.  We love to see each other smile and laugh.  We encourage each other.  We share with each other.  We love.

This makes me so happy I cried on the way home.

Daddy isn’t really gone.  I miss him so bad; I miss being able to talk with him.  No one listens to me chatter away about the story ideas I have like he did.  Daddy didn’t seem to mind if it was the fifth – or fiftieth – time I told a cute something the kids did or a neat thing I learned; he never said “I’ve already heard that.”  I miss that, yes.

But he’s here.  I keep hearing the sing-song voice from the Disney cartoon: “he lives in you.”

Daddy lives in all 25 of us that were there (and the 4 who weren’t) in some way.  His legacy is us.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

The King’s View

A very short story about the hawk that lives near our tiny farm. Enjoy!

October 8, 2018

The King’s View

(Today, enjoy a view of my “farm” from the eyes of “The King” – a large, beautiful hawk who lives in a nest in one of the pine trees in a neighbor’s property.)

Soaring over his domain, The King doesn’t think to look up; nothing flies higher than he.  The calls from his chicks in the nest remind him that this trip’s fare needs to be a feast.  The chicks are growing larger, hungrier, and bolder.  Soon his mate must shove them from the nest to go soar into their own territories, but today, he must hunt to fill their ever-growing bellies.

The sharp images below relayed by his eyes present a veritable feast of opportunity.  Tree-rats, overgrown frogs, and a few fat lizards sunning on the porches and driveways below all present easily caught but less than desired prey.

A cluster of rodents catch his eye, but he knows the hexagon-shaped glimmers mean they are protected by that horrid human invention called “chicken wire.”  Though he refers to it as “the shiny barrier” instead of “chicken wire.”  Six rodents are stretching in the afternoon sun, nocturnal in nature; they are fat, lazy, easy treats if it weren’t for that glimmering hexagon protection.

Cackles erupt from the wooden box under some shade trees – no, those chickens aren’t easy fare anymore.  They used to be.  He used to be able to outsmart the checkerboard rooster despite his three-inch spurs and heavy wings – he would get the younger chickens as they wandered away from the big rooster’s protection.  Now there were two long-spurred giants.  The checkerboard one was always outside chasing the wanderers back into the brush or waiting for a hawk to test his power.  The second was a giant red one – that one was missing a spur that had fatally wounded a previous hawk.  The King is wise enough not to attempt those chickens.  But he always looks.  If one wandered too far away or if that effective team was ever unwary…

No, today’s fare will have to be a few tree-rats.  The King settles his decision with a precision dive and catch.  He swoops in with amazing speed, executes his prey mercifully, and glides high on majestic wings to drop the prize in his anxious chicks’ nest.  He returns to gather another partial meal for his growing offspring.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

New Release! The Tightrope Dare

New Squirrel Book just released! Read an excerpt from The Tightrope Dare!

August 24, 2018

New Release!  The Tightrope Dare

Today I’m really excited to announce the release of “The Tightrope Dare,” the second adventure in The Landmark Tribe (furry squirrels lighting the way)!  The illustrators have finally finished with this project!

Rebeccah did this illustration.  She drew and colored both the cute little squawler and the full background!

Kimberly accented the drawing for digital copy and enhanced the details on the computer (some digital art manipulation).

Each of the Landmark Tribe books is narrated by a different member of the Tribe.  This adventure is narrated by Nutty, a crunchie (the squirrel’s word for teenager) who may be just a bit over-confident (okay, maybe he likes to brag and exaggerate, as you can see from the excerpt below).

Our Landmark Tribe books are written for our church.  Any sales we get go straight back to church because it is our squirrely church family who inspires characters in the Landmark Tribe and this series was created during a trip to church!  (Read that story here!)

Come read a bit from “The Tightrope Dare” here:

 

This is the story of how, me, Nutty, greatest Crunchie in the Landmark Tribe and in all of the squirrel tribes in the Wooded Lands, saved the day with my big brawny arms!

“Nutty.”

And that is Walnut, whose favorite thing to do is do that deep sigh and say Nutty, like I’m really doing something wrong.  He is a Crunchie in the Landmark Tribe too, but he is ages older than me.  Walnut is almost as old as Kahoona, our great and powerful leader.

“Nutty.” Sighed Walnut again.

Okay, so he isn’t really that old, but almost.

On the day my story takes place, the winds were ripping squirrels from their nests and squawlers from their mother’s clutching paws.

“Nutty, seriously?” Walnut chided.

Okay, okay, so maybe the winds were just enough to make leaves dance, Walnut is only a season older than me, and maybe I am not the greatest Crunchie in all of the squirrel tribes and maybe I didn’t use my big brawny arms to save the day, but I’m telling the story and that sounds cool, doesn’t it?

And that sigh from Walnut means he agrees but doesn’t want to say I’m right about anything.  Ever.  And he certainly doesn’t want to admit that I, Nutty the Great, am cool.  But I so am.

“Why do you start every sentence with a conjunction?” Walnut said in a bookish voice.

Honestly, he sounds so much like Grizzly, a new member of the Landmark tribe, that he seems like his real son.  Grizzly talks with a gruff bear voice but through his nose like it is constantly pinched shut.  And now Walnut has walked away so he can’t hear my awesome story.  Okay, well, you will have to do.  Stay right there and don’t move.

 

If you liked that and want to see how the Landmark Tribe of furry squirrels light the way in the Wooded Lands, click on the link to buy a copy or check out my Book List to view all the available formats!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

 

Creating Characters: Web of Deception

February 11, 2018

Creating Characters: Web of Deception

The first of my epic fantasy novels to be published, Web of Deception, has some of my favorite characters.  It took over seven years of development and several revisions to complete this work.  I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so I never thought it was really done!

I wasn’t writing for a specific audience at first.  (Perhaps it would be more accurate to say, at the time, I was writing for myself as a young adult fiction enthusiast.)  I chose a semi-autobiographical lead.  I imagined myself as Jordan.  Since I was fourteen years old when I started, he originally started out at fourteen.  There were also about 280 pages of exploits and adventures in Ja’hline!  Later, as I became more advanced in my writing profession, I realized that none of these “school stories” did anything to help advance the actual plot; it just gave an extended view at the culture of Swavaria and the emerging character of several players.  This did solidify the characters in my imagination.  I knew them because I had been slowly forming them.  As I hit “delete” on over 280 pages of material, I chose to see it as an exercise in character development  rather than a humongous loss and waste of time.  Today, any one of my series books and most of my novels have a separate file with in-depth biographies and feature traits of each character.  (Usually, even supporting characters like Darren from Brantley Station Saga and General Wrynn from Web of Deception have pages of biographical information on them!)

The character of Kalam was one of the easiest for me; when I started reading this story aloud to my younger brother, he loved it and wanted to be in it.  This led to the creation of Kalam, a younger character included in the group.  This younger character had expounded strengths and the quiet, reserved, thoughtful nature of my brother.  It was easy to develop him.

Several other characters had “base” humans – those I pictured with modified talents or enhanced abilities to keep reminding me of the core of my character.

Jordan was what I imagined myself to be should I be in a fantasy adventure.  His character was actually drawn from attributes I admired in various historical figures and fiction characters from favorite tales.  Jordan was a hodge-podge of strengths I wanted and weaknesses I felt inside me.  The turmoil he feels throughout the book is something any adolescent would likely feel to some degree – we all feel like we are fighting a raging battle between our inner good and evil wolves, don’t we?  (Which wolf do we choose to feed?)

Chloe was my first character that had no “base” human for me to draw from.  She was developed to be the bold opposite of Jordan.  Alike in many ways, but different in certain extremes, Chloe and Jordan complemented each other and fueled a growing fissure of uncertainty throughout the journey.

Sometimes, characters build themselves because of a vacuum created in my work: Corgi was pulled back from the scrap board and I needed a character to compliment him.  To fill this gap bloomed Seva Natalia.

Overall, the characters I create appear to come alive inside my imagination, spill into my dreams, and take on their own lives as I record their adventures on paper (or screen).  Often, the same or very similar characters pop up in various works!  This is because I tend to lean toward strong, noble, intelligent characters and  love tossing in my “bit parts” guys when I can.  (You know, like Gabby Haynes popping up in hundreds of westerns always playing the same sidekick?)  My grizzled, uncouth military leader, wizened salt-and-pepper crowned mentor, sassy bossy no-filter child, and a few others pop up under a variety of names and faces to keep my readers (my girls) yipping, “Mom!  He’s from your other book too!” when they find one of these bit part characters.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

 

Meet Tawny

The backstory of the little dengee adopted by Alena in A Foundling Furball. Meet Tawny:

January 18, 2018

Meet Tawny

On Devonia, a world far from here, but more deserving of the name Earth’s Twin than Venus, a dengee (a strong, wolf-dog-like creature) female birthed a litter of pups.  One of those tiny, sightless, nearly deaf, fluffy balls was a tan-brown female with black rings on her tail and black markings.  Her first two days of life were normal for any dengee pup.  She shoved her way to her mother’s warm belly and warmed herself inside and out with her mother’s milk and thick soft fur.

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But then something unexpected happened.  She was too young to understand, but the lead pack male was forced out by a trio of incoming younger, stronger males.  In the dengee world, those males would then destroy all of the previous male’s young.  Although some of the mother dengees had been wounded while trying to fight them away alongside the pack male, others resigned themselves to their fate.  The new trio of males, one lead pack male and the other two his cohorts, hunted down and destroyed all the six dens with the old male’s pups.

What the pup knew was that mean teeth snapped at her and a rough angry paw tossed her out of the warm den and into the cold early morning where it was just as dark to those with open eyes as it was to her blind self.  Miraculously, the tiny female pup, now heavily injured, managed to elude her pursuer and slide into the edge of a frigid creek.  She called for her mother.  She cried will all her might.

Her new mother heard her cries.

Alena Summers, a human child fishing on the bank of the Ice Cube Creek that early afternoon, heard the pitiful calls of this lonely baby and followed the sound.  Joseph Taylor, another human child, swam into the cold water to rescue the blob of tangled fur from her prison in the bushes on the edge of the water, and there Tawny became a ward of the humans.

This little three-day-old dengee pup whose eyes had never seen her own kind was rescued from drowning by two children and warmed in her new mother’s soft apron.  Tawny’s life had already been so full of turmoil!  Even on the bank after being rescued, the other children considered tossing her back because dengees were deadly foes to the humans – attacking their livestock and more than once, even the humans themselves.  Thankfully, Alena wouldn’t have that; she took full charge of this tiny creature.

With slow, tender, loving care, Tawny’s wounds will heal.  Four days later, at only a week old, and without yet opening her tiny eyes, little Tawny will face another challenge as the council of elders on Devonia has to decide if Alena can keep this dangerous animal.  Of course, Alena and her friends will swear that this pup is nothing dangerous – but that remains to be seen.

For now, Tawny, the newest member of the Devonian settlement of Covenant, is resting with warm Brown-Sheep milk digesting in her belly laying on a soft rag-blanket-bed on straw in the Summers’ barn listening to the sounds of Alena’s pretty lullabies, Brown-Sheep ewes, and baby lambs and dreaming of new warm sun on her body and the soft, warm love of her human mother.

If you want to read about how Alena, Joseph, and their friends find and rescue Tawny, you can read A Foundling Furball!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

 

A Princess for Jaquline

May 26, 2017

A Princess Story For Jaquline

   Jaquline loves to read.  As a toddler she loved snuggling with me and reading “a princess story” (what she called any story with a girl in it).  Her favorites were “A Little Princess,” “Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm,” “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,” “Angel and the Ring,” and so many others (I think everything was her favorite, although we read “A Little Princess” more than most).  She loved reading the Long Tail stories, the Five Alive stories, and loved my retold Bible stories like “The Living God.”

Once she curled up and asked, “Mommy, what’s your favorite fairy tale princess story?”

It’s Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Eleven Wild Swans.”  But I’d never found a book copy.  So I told her about the story.  She asked, “what’s it about?”  It is about true love; a sister’s unfaltering, sacrificial love for her brothers.  She then asked, “could you make a real princess fairy tale for me?”

In the early morning the next day, before she got up, I had The Princess and the Swans.  Adapted from the general idea of “The Eleven Wild Swans,” it has the same basic theme of sacrificial love.   This became her favorite story.  It was the first story she read to Jillian, and years later, to Lucas.

The Princess and the Swans has been one of my best-selling ebooks.

I love stories about true, hard-working, unselfish love.  I believe that what we allow into our minds through our eyes and ears shapes our character.  My girls call them the “gates” of the heart.  I try to make sure that what I write helps encourage the good parts of character that we want to grow in ourselves and our children: determination, obedience, sacrifice, understanding, empathy.

Jaquline still likes to curl up and have someone else read her a story: especially when it’s “her” princess story.  (And that is the best part of reading – sharing the love of it!)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

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