My Storytelling Once Upon a Time
My Storytelling Once Upon a Time
And a SNEAK PEEK at my newest book!
Today is World Storytelling Day, and I’d like to share with you the “once upon a time” of how I became a storyteller.
I also have a surprise reveal next week! Keep reading for a sneak peek...
Many of my earliest memories include imagining stories I saw in pictures. In 1979, when I was not even three years old, my grandfather salvaged an old school desk from the neighborhood elementary school-turned gardening nursery. I remember sliding onto the wooden seat and opening my coloring books, pop-up fairy tale books, and Little Golden Books—all supplied by my Gran, who was a lifelong voracious reader. I would imagine the stories behind the pictures, often making them up as I wasn’t yet able to read.
My favorite of those early books was Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs; there was something alluring about the Evil Queen. I loved the shape of her crown and cloak, and I wanted my own fancy mirror that could talk to me, too. I also remember being drawn to the primary colors of Snow White’s gown and ribbon. They were the same colors on my circus-themed bedding and in those little colorful balls trapped inside my popper push toy.
As I grew older, the pop-up and Little Golden Books were replaced by picture book boxed sets. All the classics: Heidi, Little Women, The Secret Garden, and Treasure Island, to name a few. And in the mid-1980s, I discovered Garbage Pail Kids, those macabre, questionable, and hilarious trading cards that parodied the wildly popular Cabbage Patch Kids dolls. Over the span of a few years, I collected nearly the entire first and second series! I got a kick out of imagining the stories behind New Wave Dave and Weird Wendy, Jolly Roger and Phony Lisa.
All those early books and cards inspired me to create my own characters for my own stories, and as I colored and drew and painted my way through my childhood, I found stories everywhere and in everything. When I’d hear the opening tune for Good Times on our woodgrain boxed TV set—you know, the one with the broken knob and the foiled antennae—I would race to the living room just so I could watch Ernie Barnes’ Sugar Shack scroll across the screen. Throughout high school, I wrote poetry, and I studied and created art. I imagined fictional stories behind paintings like Andrew Wyeth’s Christina’s World, Grant Wood’s American Gothic, Van Gogh’s Starry Night, Nighthawks by Edward Hopper, and all of Remedios Varo’s works.
As a novelist, I’ve found inspiration in my travels and along nature walks. I imagined my very first novel, The Decembers, during walks at Fred Howard Park, a barrier island connected to the mainland by a causeway in Tarpon Springs, Florida. I’d made voice notes with my smartphone and eventually completed the book while sitting on the dock of the brackish lake right in our backyard. I wrote A Bright Light also while walking (that time at a park in Georgia), and I penned the outline for The Heartbreak Bucket List while on a business trip to Waco, Texas.
During my time spent in Tarpon Springs, characters from another book started appearing to me, as if in a vision. I remember the first time it happened as if it were yesterday. I was walking the causeway, surrounded by the Gulf of Mexico, the sun kissing my face, seagulls laughing above me, the wind in my hair. In my mind’s eye a lady appeared: an older Black woman with watery eyes and a set of long, silver braids. Somehow, I knew her name was Pinkie Perideaux, but everyone called her “Ms. Pinkie.” As the vision expanded, I could clearly see the woman sitting in a wheelchair on a porch. The ocean pulsed against the backyard beach behind her, and she faced a small table, a selection of tarot cards spread out before her.
Tarot cards? I thought, a shiver masking itself as a Gulf breeze scampering up my arms.
Days later, the scene stayed with me, details forming like clouds in a summer storm: Pinkie Perideaux, like the stone but French in spelling, an elderly woman, rich ebony skin, silver braids, the back porch of a bungalow nestled into a stretch of beach. Cobalt bottles. Wind chimes. Candles. Tarot cards.
She’s magical, I said to myself. A Seer, perhaps?
That’s when it occurred to me that in order to explore this story that was clearly unfolding on someone’s back porch—someone wise and mystical and resolute—I needed to know a few things: 1) which cards were on that table, 2) what they meant, 3) who Ms. Pinkie was, and 4) the rest of her story. All of it.
And to know those things, I felt strongly that I needed to start with the tarot.
I had to get my hands on a deck of cards. So, I did. After doing a little research to determine which deck included the images I’d seen on the old woman’s table, I settled on a classic Rider-Waite-Smith. Flipping through the cards, drinking in every detail, felt like holding an art gallery in my hands. The illustrations—ink drawings with what reminded me of watercolor—seemed to tell a story, each story unique, yet each card its own slice of an overall plot.
Madness kindling a fire in my gut, I hammered out notes in the mornings, walking the beachside park in the evenings, and allowing that new, magical story to tell itself. My mind was opened in a way I’d never before experienced. I’d never imagined writing a story like that one. And using tarot cards? My Bible Belt upbringing had taught me they were “of the devil” and I would “go to hell” if I dabbled with them. Ever the questioner of rules I don’t understand, I began researching the cards and uncovered a wealth of information that was far from evil or “of the devil.” I learned that the tarot was steeped in mystery, insights, stories to be discovered, and stories to be written. The cards served as a tool for sharpening my intuition, and through their inspiration I was able to complete Ms. Pinkie’s story, my duology titled The Scars We Choose. After Pinkie Perideaux brought the tarot to me, I have used the cards to inspire my storytelling ever since.
I’m positively giddy with excitement to announce that I have partnered with La Panthère Studio to create a new book and companion tarot deck written specifically for writers! Had Ms. Pinkie and her tarot cards not come to me way back then while I was on my beachside walk, I would have never written this new book, nor would I have known the wealth of creative insights the tarot can offer storytellers.
As a subscriber, you will be the first to see the reveal on Tuesday, March 26.
Next week, I will share the very first details about this mystical new project, so keep an eye on your inbox!
And, as always, THANK YOU for supporting my storytelling dreams.
In her more than thirty years as a storyteller and visual designer, Amanda “Mandy” Hughes has written and designed over a dozen works of literary, Southern Gothic, and women’s fiction under pen names A. Lee Hughes and Mandy Lee.
Mandy is the founder of Haint Blue Creative®, a space for readers and storytellers to explore, learn, and create. She holds a Bachelor and Master of Science in Psychology, and she has worked as an instructional designer for nearly twenty years.
When she’s not writing, Mandy enjoys the movies, theater, music, traveling, nature walks, birdwatching, and binging The Office. She is a tarot enthusiast who uses the cards to enhance creativity and foster wellness. She lives in Georgia with her husband and four sons, two of whom are furrier than the others (but not by much). Visit her website at haintbluecreative.com and follow her on Instagram @haintbluecreative.
Thank you for sharing your origin story. I loved reading every word!