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The Burning Point: A Memoir of Addiction, Destruction, Love, Parenting, Survival, and Hope
Coming in July 2017
I’m scared. No, you’re not. Yes, I am. Of what? What if I can’t do it? What if you can?
When the call came, when the letter arrived, when the sunlight finally fell on your face—the struggle fell away, and you only remembered the beauty. It was like childbirth, but constantly, for your whole life. Every day we brought forth our future, every choice we made determined what raw materials would be in the hands of tomorrow. Some days took years and were times of transition where we thought we might die, and some years were full of euphoria or rushing release. Most years were slightly uncomfortable until we remembered how to breathe.
Everything didn’t always work out. Sometimes things were just hard. Sometimes life hurt too much, and people did break. Sometimes, you had to wait for a long time for the sun to rise. While it’s true the sun always rose, not everyone lived through the night, and the stars didn’t give a damn.
The Burning Point will be available from By Common Consent Press on July 1, 2017.
274 pages, Paperback
Published July 1, 2017
18 people are currently reading
95 people want to read
About the author
Tracy McKay
2 books9 followersTracy was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area by gently agnostic hippies. Most of her family still lives in the Bay Area, though Tracy has relocated to the Washington D.C. area, where she and her husband Jonathan are raising their combined family, and life rolls on in its messy, beautiful way.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 34 reviews
June 27, 2017
When people I know experience divorce, I admit to a degree of curiosity. But do I ask, "Why did you get divorced?" I don't dare.
As a child of divorce myself, I recognize that answering that question is complex and emotional. Any answer, no matter how exhaustive, will always be incomplete. There are too many factors and too many vantage points. Because we move through time, the meaning of past relationship changes.
Yes, Tracy McKay's memoir might serve as a response to the question, "Why did you divorce your husband?" But not really.
The grossest summary of her memoir might look like this: McKay met a charismatic man named David, significantly older than she. Over time they formed a friendship, eventually married, had children, and then his addiction derailed the marriage, so she left. McKay then went on to raise three children by herself with support from a handful of loving family members and friends.
But that version lacks the poetry and minimizes the pain of a life lived in the chaos of the present. And that gross narrative implies that she never looks back over her shoulder to reconsider the past.
So instead of starting the day she met David, McKay's memoir starts with the decision to separate from her husband, a person struggling with addiction for years.
When she discovers that David has relapsed yet again, a calm voice tells her, "You can leave now." McKay writes: "There are moments in life that transcend time, when everything stops, the birds hold their song, and the enormity of the silence is deafening in its vastness. There are moments where a person can, ever so briefly, see the curing arc of the horizon and feel the curling crest of the wave of time under their feet. Thank God those moments are fleeting, because our earthly hearts can't breathe in that paralyzing intensity for long" (p. 11).
Her broken chronology is a contrast to a robotic postmortem that a straight narrative implies. Imaging a computer asserting this point: "Because these things happened along the way, the outcome was determined from the start. 1 plus 2 equals 3." The jumps in time provide a vantage point for McKay and her readers to step outside of time to ponder, to review, to experience the jarring moments. These moments outside of normal time mimic post-traumatic stress disorder--when a difficult past hijacks the present. The pain can be so great that the survivor can detach and stand outside of the experience.
There are a half dozen moments in McKay's memoir that shift into third person--giving her a bird's eye view for experiences too difficult to inhabit in first person, even with the supposed safety of the present.
McKay artfully illustrates that relationships are far messier than conventional storytelling admits. Particularly messy are relationship where one person loves another person living with addiction.
20th Century authors such as Faulkner, Woolf, and Morrison point out that people experience relationships through broken chronology. We carry the past forward into the moment through storytelling. We recall and reconsider key events from our past, sometimes with the same "moral of the story" conclusions with each retelling. Sometimes another telling of the story comes with a new insight that transforms how we see ourselves, how we see others, and how we see the relationship.
It's really more artificial to pretend that we can shove the past neatly into the first chapters of our lives.
In essence, McKay keeps a pebble in her pocket--a pebble that was lodged in her shoe--and instead of throwing it away or displaying it on a mantle, she holds out that pebble to us, asking: "Is this a bad thing or a beautiful thing?" Or is it both?
Read her memoir and decide for yourself.
As a child of divorce myself, I recognize that answering that question is complex and emotional. Any answer, no matter how exhaustive, will always be incomplete. There are too many factors and too many vantage points. Because we move through time, the meaning of past relationship changes.
Yes, Tracy McKay's memoir might serve as a response to the question, "Why did you divorce your husband?" But not really.
The grossest summary of her memoir might look like this: McKay met a charismatic man named David, significantly older than she. Over time they formed a friendship, eventually married, had children, and then his addiction derailed the marriage, so she left. McKay then went on to raise three children by herself with support from a handful of loving family members and friends.
But that version lacks the poetry and minimizes the pain of a life lived in the chaos of the present. And that gross narrative implies that she never looks back over her shoulder to reconsider the past.
So instead of starting the day she met David, McKay's memoir starts with the decision to separate from her husband, a person struggling with addiction for years.
When she discovers that David has relapsed yet again, a calm voice tells her, "You can leave now." McKay writes: "There are moments in life that transcend time, when everything stops, the birds hold their song, and the enormity of the silence is deafening in its vastness. There are moments where a person can, ever so briefly, see the curing arc of the horizon and feel the curling crest of the wave of time under their feet. Thank God those moments are fleeting, because our earthly hearts can't breathe in that paralyzing intensity for long" (p. 11).
Her broken chronology is a contrast to a robotic postmortem that a straight narrative implies. Imaging a computer asserting this point: "Because these things happened along the way, the outcome was determined from the start. 1 plus 2 equals 3." The jumps in time provide a vantage point for McKay and her readers to step outside of time to ponder, to review, to experience the jarring moments. These moments outside of normal time mimic post-traumatic stress disorder--when a difficult past hijacks the present. The pain can be so great that the survivor can detach and stand outside of the experience.
There are a half dozen moments in McKay's memoir that shift into third person--giving her a bird's eye view for experiences too difficult to inhabit in first person, even with the supposed safety of the present.
McKay artfully illustrates that relationships are far messier than conventional storytelling admits. Particularly messy are relationship where one person loves another person living with addiction.
20th Century authors such as Faulkner, Woolf, and Morrison point out that people experience relationships through broken chronology. We carry the past forward into the moment through storytelling. We recall and reconsider key events from our past, sometimes with the same "moral of the story" conclusions with each retelling. Sometimes another telling of the story comes with a new insight that transforms how we see ourselves, how we see others, and how we see the relationship.
It's really more artificial to pretend that we can shove the past neatly into the first chapters of our lives.
In essence, McKay keeps a pebble in her pocket--a pebble that was lodged in her shoe--and instead of throwing it away or displaying it on a mantle, she holds out that pebble to us, asking: "Is this a bad thing or a beautiful thing?" Or is it both?
Read her memoir and decide for yourself.
June 26, 2017
I can't think of anyone I know who I don't want to read this book. Tracy McKay's story--of her love for her husband David, of her struggles as David's addiction to painkillers eventually destroyed their marriage, and of her slow, determined rebuilding of her and their childrens' lives--is a great and inspiring one. Everyone has stories that they don't tell--embarrassments and pains and humiliations and confessions and arguments that parents and friends and children keep quiet, hidden away in the closets of the mind. Tracy brings her hard story out, hiding nothing, and everyone who reads this story of survival will be blessed by it, I think. Much of it is heart-rendingly sad, but there are great moments of triumph as well, and there's the occasional laugh-out-loud funny bit as well.
More importantly, her story will inspire you to hang on through the tough times, to pick yourself up with you think you've hit bottom (one of the great lessons of Tracy's book--there's always a deeper bottom), and to recommit yourself to your family, neighbors, community, church, and friends, because none of us ever get through all of those tough times without all the helping hands--whether religious or familial or governmental--which those associations provide. Tracy, through some truly horrifying and mortifying experiences, always had such hands available to her--and thus her story becomes a reminder to us that we, and the time we give and the sacrifices we make and the taxes we pay, are those hands, both for those we love and those we are strangers to. And for that reminder, we are all in her debt.
Her memoir may not be everyone's cup of tea--her writing is lyrical, poetic, and introspective, even when straightforward description might serve her narrative better. And the way it jumps around in time, following Tracy's own freely associating memory, might rub some people wrong. But still, I hope everyone will give this book a chance, because Tracy's story is a great one, and much worth sharing.
More importantly, her story will inspire you to hang on through the tough times, to pick yourself up with you think you've hit bottom (one of the great lessons of Tracy's book--there's always a deeper bottom), and to recommit yourself to your family, neighbors, community, church, and friends, because none of us ever get through all of those tough times without all the helping hands--whether religious or familial or governmental--which those associations provide. Tracy, through some truly horrifying and mortifying experiences, always had such hands available to her--and thus her story becomes a reminder to us that we, and the time we give and the sacrifices we make and the taxes we pay, are those hands, both for those we love and those we are strangers to. And for that reminder, we are all in her debt.
Her memoir may not be everyone's cup of tea--her writing is lyrical, poetic, and introspective, even when straightforward description might serve her narrative better. And the way it jumps around in time, following Tracy's own freely associating memory, might rub some people wrong. But still, I hope everyone will give this book a chance, because Tracy's story is a great one, and much worth sharing.
July 1, 2017
Source/Version: Amazon (also available from BCC Press)
As the title page explains, Tracy McKay’s memoir The Burning Point is “a memoir of addiction, destruction, love, parenting, survival, and hope”. It is all these things – though most definitely not necessarily in that order. It is also (and here is where its power lies) a frank, unflinching consideration of love in its forms, be it in deed, in prayer, in parenthood, in friendship, in grief, in memory, in ignorance and combinations thereof.
The Burning Point travels the difficulties of a spouse with drug addiction, the carnage associated with divorce, the stresses, terrors and baffling delights of sole-parenting, spiritual moments, the awakening to the importance of self-care, and the metamorphosis from a “before” to an unknown “after” (and “now” and “through”). There’s toilet-training, Autism, butterflies, stars, a Craigslist table, tears and rocks. There are new beginnings, blogging (McKay blogs as Dandelion Mama, though those previously unaware of her blog – like myself – won’t be out of any loop), frustration, uncertainty, good people and too many late nights chasing hopes and deadlines. There’s truth and pain and beauty and grief and love. And love. And love.
“Mo taught me that I didn’t have to fit any model or ideal to be who I wanted to be. I learned that I could take off the cultural shoe that was just too damn tight and still live the faithful life I wanted. I learned that a woman with pink hair and tattoos has as much claim to God as any person I have ever met. I learned I could be whoever I wanted to be and be really good at it.” (p. 2279 – Kindle edition)
From a literary/wordcraft consideration, there is a thrumming lyrical skeleton under the rolling curves, valleys and scars of McKay’s experiences. Symbols of light, silence and vastness are shared, shrouded and stunningly revealed over the pages, just as we are shown how they appeared over the years of her experiences. The resonance of a revelatory loop is bone deep in places; sinew of sorrow and succinct detail tie threads from a moment with butterflies at the beginning of the book to a pre-dawn closure of another fragile loop in the last few pages, the symmetry of prose and symbolism beautifully crafted.
“There are moments in life that transcend time, when everything stops, the birds hold their song, and the enormity of the silence is deafening in its vastness.” (p. 69)
The memoir uses different styles exceptionally well, especially considering the timeline is not presented linearly. Excerpts from blog posts begin each chapter, then moving to different years, places and conversations. The first-person narrative is also interspersed with interludes, where the moment is told in third person, which oddly – and beautifully – gives both a compassionate deepness to and momentary reprieve from the deep waters of life McKay was finding herself in.
“There are moments where a person can, ever so briefly, see the curving arc of the horizon and can feel the curling crest of the wave of time under their feet. Thank God those moments are fleeting, because our earthly hearts really cannot breathe in that paralysing intensity for long. In that moment, she understood why people fall to their knees before angels.” (p. 3523 – Kindle edition)
As an example of compelling, deft and evocative memoir, The Burning Point is excellent.
As a read guaranteed to singe your assumptions, thump your heart, and wrap an encouraging arm around your scared, uncertain shoulders as you face off against disappointment and life’s unknowns, The Burning Point is a must-read, and stunning besides.
Rated: PG13 – drug addiction (and its repercussions) is a crucial theme
Recommended to:
Anyone wanting to better understand the stresses, terrors and baffling delights of sole-parenting
Anyone wanting to be a better friend, support, and/or human
Anyone who thinks they give great OR terrible support to others (hint: read it - do you see yourself in those pages?)
Not recommended for:
Those in the initial destruction of relationship breakdown – this memoir may be too close to your own personal reality, and/or too soon.
As the title page explains, Tracy McKay’s memoir The Burning Point is “a memoir of addiction, destruction, love, parenting, survival, and hope”. It is all these things – though most definitely not necessarily in that order. It is also (and here is where its power lies) a frank, unflinching consideration of love in its forms, be it in deed, in prayer, in parenthood, in friendship, in grief, in memory, in ignorance and combinations thereof.
The Burning Point travels the difficulties of a spouse with drug addiction, the carnage associated with divorce, the stresses, terrors and baffling delights of sole-parenting, spiritual moments, the awakening to the importance of self-care, and the metamorphosis from a “before” to an unknown “after” (and “now” and “through”). There’s toilet-training, Autism, butterflies, stars, a Craigslist table, tears and rocks. There are new beginnings, blogging (McKay blogs as Dandelion Mama, though those previously unaware of her blog – like myself – won’t be out of any loop), frustration, uncertainty, good people and too many late nights chasing hopes and deadlines. There’s truth and pain and beauty and grief and love. And love. And love.
“Mo taught me that I didn’t have to fit any model or ideal to be who I wanted to be. I learned that I could take off the cultural shoe that was just too damn tight and still live the faithful life I wanted. I learned that a woman with pink hair and tattoos has as much claim to God as any person I have ever met. I learned I could be whoever I wanted to be and be really good at it.” (p. 2279 – Kindle edition)
From a literary/wordcraft consideration, there is a thrumming lyrical skeleton under the rolling curves, valleys and scars of McKay’s experiences. Symbols of light, silence and vastness are shared, shrouded and stunningly revealed over the pages, just as we are shown how they appeared over the years of her experiences. The resonance of a revelatory loop is bone deep in places; sinew of sorrow and succinct detail tie threads from a moment with butterflies at the beginning of the book to a pre-dawn closure of another fragile loop in the last few pages, the symmetry of prose and symbolism beautifully crafted.
“There are moments in life that transcend time, when everything stops, the birds hold their song, and the enormity of the silence is deafening in its vastness.” (p. 69)
The memoir uses different styles exceptionally well, especially considering the timeline is not presented linearly. Excerpts from blog posts begin each chapter, then moving to different years, places and conversations. The first-person narrative is also interspersed with interludes, where the moment is told in third person, which oddly – and beautifully – gives both a compassionate deepness to and momentary reprieve from the deep waters of life McKay was finding herself in.
“There are moments where a person can, ever so briefly, see the curving arc of the horizon and can feel the curling crest of the wave of time under their feet. Thank God those moments are fleeting, because our earthly hearts really cannot breathe in that paralysing intensity for long. In that moment, she understood why people fall to their knees before angels.” (p. 3523 – Kindle edition)
As an example of compelling, deft and evocative memoir, The Burning Point is excellent.
As a read guaranteed to singe your assumptions, thump your heart, and wrap an encouraging arm around your scared, uncertain shoulders as you face off against disappointment and life’s unknowns, The Burning Point is a must-read, and stunning besides.
Rated: PG13 – drug addiction (and its repercussions) is a crucial theme
Recommended to:
Anyone wanting to better understand the stresses, terrors and baffling delights of sole-parenting
Anyone wanting to be a better friend, support, and/or human
Anyone who thinks they give great OR terrible support to others (hint: read it - do you see yourself in those pages?)
Not recommended for:
Those in the initial destruction of relationship breakdown – this memoir may be too close to your own personal reality, and/or too soon.
July 16, 2017
You know a memoir is good when even if you don't share specific life experiences with the author, you find yourself nodding in agreement, solidarity, and empathy as you read. That is this memoir - there is so much to identify with here, so much to mourn over together, so many times where you sit back and think, "YES. I have done this and felt this and laughed about this and made this mistake, too!"
In a book with faith and religion woven through its pages, McKay is never insufferable; only long-suffering. She is never sanctimonious; only holy. Her story is devastating, but also life-affirming. Read it!
(Full disclosure: It's possible that I might be a bit biased in favor of this book, because I often read McKay's work on BCC and FMH in real-time when the events in this book were going on a few years ago. I had something invested in liking this book, in other words. But I do think any person could pick it up, with no prior knowledge of this story and where it ends up, and have the same experience I did.)
In a book with faith and religion woven through its pages, McKay is never insufferable; only long-suffering. She is never sanctimonious; only holy. Her story is devastating, but also life-affirming. Read it!
(Full disclosure: It's possible that I might be a bit biased in favor of this book, because I often read McKay's work on BCC and FMH in real-time when the events in this book were going on a few years ago. I had something invested in liking this book, in other words. But I do think any person could pick it up, with no prior knowledge of this story and where it ends up, and have the same experience I did.)
November 10, 2017
Wow! I️ don’t quite know how to put everything I️ want to say into words here.
This book was real. I️ laughed loud and often and found myself crying and aching for this woman.
You know a memoir is good when you can feel everything described and totally relate, not because the experiences are the same, but because the human feelings and paths can be shared and noticed in others. I️ have never had to go through what she went through, but I have been the recipient of the goodness and generosity of others and watched God’s hand working in my life through those around me.
This book was real. I️ laughed loud and often and found myself crying and aching for this woman.
You know a memoir is good when you can feel everything described and totally relate, not because the experiences are the same, but because the human feelings and paths can be shared and noticed in others. I️ have never had to go through what she went through, but I have been the recipient of the goodness and generosity of others and watched God’s hand working in my life through those around me.
July 4, 2017
Hard and beautiful.
July 9, 2017
I've been reading Tracy's work for close to ten years now. I've watched her children grow. I've cooked most of the recipes she's shared. I've felt her sorrows and cheered her successes.
Even for all that, I found myself reading her memoir with almost fresh eyes, sometimes thinking, "Well, clearly THIS will be rock bottom" or "Finally! A bit of luck". That's how good this book is- I knew how it ended and I was still captivated at every point.
Ultimately this book is hopeful. I'm sure in the coming days and months I'll find myself remembering Tracy's example of being kinder than necessary and laying down the burdens of hurt and shame in favor of strength and forgiveness.
Even for all that, I found myself reading her memoir with almost fresh eyes, sometimes thinking, "Well, clearly THIS will be rock bottom" or "Finally! A bit of luck". That's how good this book is- I knew how it ended and I was still captivated at every point.
Ultimately this book is hopeful. I'm sure in the coming days and months I'll find myself remembering Tracy's example of being kinder than necessary and laying down the burdens of hurt and shame in favor of strength and forgiveness.
January 1, 2018
The Burning Point is a marvelous and miraculous book. McKay weaves together the compelling story of her husband David’s struggle with addiction, their divorce, her years as a single mother of three on welfare, her success running a small business from her home, her experiences raising a child with autism, and her experiences as a new convert in a remarkably supportive religious community. And, through flashbacks, she tells the equally compelling story of her long courtship with David, their marriage, her religious conversion, and their family’s struggles with the addiction that ultimately took his life. These are powerful stories offered without a drop of resentment or bitterness. This is not a narrative exercise in score settling, but in love and grace and redemption.
As only a first-rate write can, McKay tempers the chaos of the events she describes with the order imposed by beautiful prose. Every sentence is a carefully wrought work of art. And when I reached the end of the book, I felt a deep respect for the life that Tracy McKay has lived and a profound gratitude for the gifts she has--as a writer, a thinker, and a storyteller--that allowed her to turn a part of that life into the gift that is this book.
As only a first-rate write can, McKay tempers the chaos of the events she describes with the order imposed by beautiful prose. Every sentence is a carefully wrought work of art. And when I reached the end of the book, I felt a deep respect for the life that Tracy McKay has lived and a profound gratitude for the gifts she has--as a writer, a thinker, and a storyteller--that allowed her to turn a part of that life into the gift that is this book.
July 7, 2017
Beautiful, Painful, Essential
Tracy's words pierce my soul with finely honed, poetic simplicity. There is nothing formulaic, proverbial, or trite here, just a carefully drawn
Tracy's words pierce my soul with finely honed, poetic simplicity. There is nothing formulaic, proverbial, or trite here, just a carefully drawn
July 2, 2017
Wonderful memoir of McKay's experience as a single mother after her divorce, which was brought on by her ex-husband's drug addiction. I particularly appreciated how compassionately David (the husband) was portrayed; he was not a villain but a real person, and she shows us the best of him as well as the worst. Her transition from stay-at-home mom to entrepreneur to college graduate is inspiring, but so are the many stories of her family, friends, and blogging community who help her during the hardest time of her life. Powerful and beautifully written.
July 14, 2017
I remember, even just 15 years ago, when I used the words "independently published" as some sort of euphemism for "random vanity project of terrible quality." I probably was wrong then. I know any such conception is wrong now. Now "independently published" means the freedom for Tracy to use her own well-crafted voice to write a grippingly raw and beautiful emotional memoir that will resonate with anyone who has simultaneously faced head-on, celebrated the beauty of, and then overcome the many challenges of life.
February 10, 2018
There's no doubt that Tracy McKay is a talented writer. In this memoir, she draws you in to her world, where she suddenly becomes a single mother to her 3 young children, when her husband's addiction reaches a point that she realizes she can no longer stay married to him.
The organization of the book was confusing, as she switches back and forth between the time period when she met her husband and they spend almost a decade being friends, and the time period just following her decision to get a divorce. There are date labels but it jumps around a bit and I was confused as to what their relationship was at the different time periods. Some chapters were written in the 3rd person; the beginning of the rest of the chapters had an italicized section which might have been excerpts from her blog? I think blogging and essay writing are what she's best at, and maybe she should stick to that format. Not bad for a first novel overall though.
Favorite quotes:
"It didn't matter that life wasn't fair, or that I wanted things to be a certain way. Welcome to the big leagues, baby girl."
"Self-loathing and doubt were really no different than self-aggrandizement and ego...Both amplified and elevated the importance of self to the exclusion of reality." Great insight! Focusing too much on yourself and ignoring the big picture and reality is bad, on both extremes of the ego spectrum.
"I had to try and dump my temporal distractions so I could focus on really obscure classical ethicists who were all men and who had wives to take care of their kids while they languished in their deep thoughts."
The organization of the book was confusing, as she switches back and forth between the time period when she met her husband and they spend almost a decade being friends, and the time period just following her decision to get a divorce. There are date labels but it jumps around a bit and I was confused as to what their relationship was at the different time periods. Some chapters were written in the 3rd person; the beginning of the rest of the chapters had an italicized section which might have been excerpts from her blog? I think blogging and essay writing are what she's best at, and maybe she should stick to that format. Not bad for a first novel overall though.
Favorite quotes:
"It didn't matter that life wasn't fair, or that I wanted things to be a certain way. Welcome to the big leagues, baby girl."
"Self-loathing and doubt were really no different than self-aggrandizement and ego...Both amplified and elevated the importance of self to the exclusion of reality." Great insight! Focusing too much on yourself and ignoring the big picture and reality is bad, on both extremes of the ego spectrum.
"I had to try and dump my temporal distractions so I could focus on really obscure classical ethicists who were all men and who had wives to take care of their kids while they languished in their deep thoughts."
December 6, 2018
As the title page explains, Tracy McKay’s memoir The Burning Point is “a memoir of addiction, destruction, love, parenting, survival, and hope”. It is all these things – though most definitely not necessarily in that order. It is also (and here is where its power lies) a frank, unflinching consideration of love in its forms, be it in deed, in prayer, in parenthood, in friendship, in grief, in memory, in ignorance and combinations thereof.
The Burning Point travels the difficulties of a spouse with drug addiction, the carnage associated with divorce, the stresses, terrors and baffling delights of sole-parenting, spiritual moments, the awakening to the importance of self-care, and the metamorphosis from a “before” to an unknown “after” (and “now” and “through”). There’s toilet-training, Autism, butterflies, stars, a Craigslist table, tears and rocks. There are new beginnings, blogging (McKay blogs as Dandelion Mama, though those previously unaware of her blog – like myself – won’t be out of any loop), frustration, uncertainty, good people and too many late nights chasing hopes and deadlines. There’s truth and pain and beauty and grief and love. And love. And love...
to read the rest of this review, please visit us at https://segullah.org/blog/book-review...
The Burning Point travels the difficulties of a spouse with drug addiction, the carnage associated with divorce, the stresses, terrors and baffling delights of sole-parenting, spiritual moments, the awakening to the importance of self-care, and the metamorphosis from a “before” to an unknown “after” (and “now” and “through”). There’s toilet-training, Autism, butterflies, stars, a Craigslist table, tears and rocks. There are new beginnings, blogging (McKay blogs as Dandelion Mama, though those previously unaware of her blog – like myself – won’t be out of any loop), frustration, uncertainty, good people and too many late nights chasing hopes and deadlines. There’s truth and pain and beauty and grief and love. And love. And love...
to read the rest of this review, please visit us at https://segullah.org/blog/book-review...
August 31, 2018
Tracy's memoir is powerful--filled with beauty and pain and darkness and light and love and suffering and so much overwhelming grace and hope. Tracy's play with time, slipping back and forth between moments lends the memoir an ability to capture the depth of her feeling for Dave and the beauty and love involved in their relationship alongside his addiction. The memoir is absolutely worth everyone's time in capturing the quiet ways in which community and support matters and the beauty of a religious and faith community helping out. I loved the third-person interludes interspersed throughout the book, capturing the different ways in which we experience difficult moments and distance ourselves from times in life that we don't otherwise know how to handle. I was moved to tears over and over again at the pain Tracy and her family experienced, the depth of her love for her children and Dave, the repeated acts of service on their behalf, and the constant sense of grace and hope that pervades the whole seemingly bleak and hopeless situation.
July 24, 2017
Although we are constantly bombarded with stories on the news about the opioid epidemic, far too many of us do not know or talk about their loved ones who struggle with addiction. Tracy's story of love, and reclaiming her life like a phoenix in ashes is one worth reading and contemplating. We Mormons often try to keep our best face at church and in public, but what we lose is the fellowship of others who may be grappling with similar issues. Personally, I've lost a childhood neighbor, two first cousins, a friend lost her 19 year old son and I know there's more loved ones who have died or struggle with opioids. But do I talk about those I've lost or struggle enough? Do I put a face to those I miss when talking about the epidemic? Tracy's memoir and story of her ex-husband puts a face and honors her children's husband and someone she still loves dearly. This memoir is one all Mormons should read and contemplate, in my opinion.
December 13, 2017
This is a really beautiful memoir about friendship, marriage, parenting, autism, divorce, and running through it all, addiction. Tracy has a beautiful, poignant way of writing that I found to be so moving. She is open and vulnerable in this book, particularly when it comes to her husband's addiction problems, their subsequent divorce, and the challenges of being a single parent. If you're like me your heart will break over and over again for this little family.
Even though this can be a hard read because it deals with difficult life circumstances, I didn't find it to be depressing because Tracy is a fighter and she fights for her children and for herself. The other thing that I loved about the book is that it shows the best side of Mormonism, people reaching out to a ward member and her family when she really needed help. Sometimes Mormon theology is messy, but so many Mormons are good about reaching out and lifting others up, and you see that in this book.
Even though this can be a hard read because it deals with difficult life circumstances, I didn't find it to be depressing because Tracy is a fighter and she fights for her children and for herself. The other thing that I loved about the book is that it shows the best side of Mormonism, people reaching out to a ward member and her family when she really needed help. Sometimes Mormon theology is messy, but so many Mormons are good about reaching out and lifting others up, and you see that in this book.
August 24, 2017
This book is gorgeous. The writing is beautiful and intimate and the storyline weaves together seamlessly. I found myself aching with empathy, but also silently thinking about (and regretting) all the times I could have done more for people in similar situations. It was a fast read, but a sacred one.
My only quibble is that the end of the book felt a little rushed - there were parts of the story that weren't explored, and while I am not entitled to those details in any way, I wish that there would have been a few more pages devoted to piecing her heart back together as she and her children healed and rejoiced in other life events. It felt like a big jump in the last chapter from where she was to where she is (or at least, where she was when it ended), but I would still wholeheartedly recommend it. It was so, so good.
My only quibble is that the end of the book felt a little rushed - there were parts of the story that weren't explored, and while I am not entitled to those details in any way, I wish that there would have been a few more pages devoted to piecing her heart back together as she and her children healed and rejoiced in other life events. It felt like a big jump in the last chapter from where she was to where she is (or at least, where she was when it ended), but I would still wholeheartedly recommend it. It was so, so good.
September 5, 2017
A truly touching memoir. I don't know the author personally, but I have followed her blog for years and I actually feel like I do know her; she's that kind of writer. She told this difficult story on her blog in real time, doing what I felt was a remarkable job of not oversharing or violating confidences, yet sharing her pain and vulnerability and the broad strokes of her challenges in a beautiful way. There are a few small parts of her blog she includes verbatim in this book, and I remember the moment I first read almost all of them, years ago. Her writing is raw and vulnerable and beautiful, and I enjoyed the chance to read more of it. The overall story is heartbreakingly tragic, yet her specific story is beautiful, both in the ways she personally was able to make it through the darkness and in the ways so many people were there to catch and support her in her moments of need.
November 8, 2017
I'm a little conflicting on my rating of this book. The fact that the author walked away from addict husband and worked and sacrificed to create a better life for her family is admirable. Her ability to portray her ex-husband in a positive and forgiving light is also admirable, but I found the structure of the book confusing. Flash forwards and backwards, blog entries, interludes, it all felt rather chaotic. I also got a little tired of her whining about how hard her life was. I'm sure what she went through was incredibly challenging, but she also had an immense amount of support, more than most people have when they are facing a major challenge in their life. So, overall some beautiful insights, but I just didn't love reading it.
December 31, 2017
Tracy McKay's powerful memoir, The Burning Point is the kind of discourse that I want to replace the heroic Mormon pioneer stories I grew up with. I want to understand the lived reality of modern Saints who have walked through the darkness this world often offers.I want to be inspired by those who have fought to find meaning as they've struggled to wend their way in tears of anguish, watching loved ones wrestle with the most destructive demons of our age. This book is amazing in every way from her marvelous voice and writing, to the depth of feeling she achieves as she tries to manage her children in the face of her husband's drug addiction. Don't miss this one.
July 31, 2017
I had to put this book down several times because crying. Sometimes when I read a memoir, I come away feeling as if I've just spent time with a close friend. This was one of those times. I wasn't familiar with Tracy before reading this, but two of my friends read her blog during the time this story took place. While I think people who did keep up with her blog would especially want to read this, it was amazing even knowing nothing about it to begin with.
Despite my situation and hers being vastly different, there were circumstances in the book I related to. I would highly recommend it.
Despite my situation and hers being vastly different, there were circumstances in the book I related to. I would highly recommend it.
August 28, 2017
I read memoirs to try to catch a glimpse of different life experiences. Some of the most vivid depictions for me were when McKay walks the reader through the feelings of:
Waiting in the welfare line
Rearing an autistic kid
Working through a spouse's addicting to narcotics
Scraping the bottom of the barrel as a single mother utterly dependent upon the generosity of others
She's a great writer and really captures the texture and feel of the most challenging moments of her life and how she made it through them.
Waiting in the welfare line
Rearing an autistic kid
Working through a spouse's addicting to narcotics
Scraping the bottom of the barrel as a single mother utterly dependent upon the generosity of others
She's a great writer and really captures the texture and feel of the most challenging moments of her life and how she made it through them.
June 20, 2018
If you want to learn about the power of community, read this book.
If you want to learn about the gray areas of loving an addict, read this book.
If you want to learn about children with autism, read this book.
If you want to learn about resilience, grit, and grace, read this book.
And if you don't want to learn about any of those things, then read this book because of the beautiful prose.
Basically, read this book. It is a gift, and it will expand your capacity for love in every area of your life.
If you want to learn about the gray areas of loving an addict, read this book.
If you want to learn about children with autism, read this book.
If you want to learn about resilience, grit, and grace, read this book.
And if you don't want to learn about any of those things, then read this book because of the beautiful prose.
Basically, read this book. It is a gift, and it will expand your capacity for love in every area of your life.
June 1, 2020
It feels a little crazy to find such a memoir so relatable, but I did. Tracy faces unthinkable challenges with courage and strength. She keeps going. With the loving support of so many around her, who came to her rescue over and over again, she does it all. Raises her three children alone, goes back to school, successfully builds a creative business, writes a thoughtful and widely read blog, rebuilds a life for herself after her husband’s drug abuse reached a breaking point. She wrote about him with tenderness and love, which I found so admirable. Highly recommend. ⭐️
February 5, 2023
Not sure why this book has so many good reviews. It just reads like a big blog post because that's mostly what it is.
I completely got annoyed that she started out by mentioning "church", then it turned into "bishop", then it was non-stop Mormon. It's obvious she hid it till you got deeper into the book. Why the sneaky ness?
I had to just give up because to be honest, toward the middle after she gets away from her husband it was just reading about her being a mom & that just wasn't that interesting.
I completely got annoyed that she started out by mentioning "church", then it turned into "bishop", then it was non-stop Mormon. It's obvious she hid it till you got deeper into the book. Why the sneaky ness?
I had to just give up because to be honest, toward the middle after she gets away from her husband it was just reading about her being a mom & that just wasn't that interesting.
July 25, 2017
I was very moved by this memoir of a mother's struggle in the face of very difficult life challenges. The author's style resonated pretty deeply with me, and I often found myself in tears. Her story is quite inspiring and made me want to be a better person and a better parent. I especially appreciated the power of community she portrayed. I think she made it very clear that even the small things can make a difference, when people choose to pull together and help each other.
July 26, 2017
My friend wrote this book, and it is beautiful.
She tells the story of her first marriage and how it failed and how she learned to survive despite no longer having a husband and best friend. She's a beautiful writer and she tells a gut-wrenching story that everyone should read-- to appreciate if you aren't going through trials like this, and to gain more empathy for those who are. And to understand that survival-- and even joy!-- are possible even if the worst does happen to you.
She tells the story of her first marriage and how it failed and how she learned to survive despite no longer having a husband and best friend. She's a beautiful writer and she tells a gut-wrenching story that everyone should read-- to appreciate if you aren't going through trials like this, and to gain more empathy for those who are. And to understand that survival-- and even joy!-- are possible even if the worst does happen to you.
October 19, 2022
This story helped me believe in humanity a little bit more. This rating has nothing to do with Tracy Mckay’s story has a whole-what a brave and incredible story. There are some pretty beautiful moments in this book with time jumps that had deep purpose and meaning in it… but a good chunk of the time it seemed to fill in space rather than fulfill her narrative. I wished for greater conciseness but enjoyed moments of her “snapshots”. Overall, this is a heavy yet uplifting read. Recommend
June 9, 2018
Beautiful writing. I love the way the author is able to articulate difficult emotion. Her story is raw and inspiring, her perspective on spirituality is fresh and full of heart, her fierce dedication to her children is tangible. If you can do hard things, Tracy McKay, so can I. Thank you for sharing your story.
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