This story began 15 years ago in California, when a reader of my column wrote to say: “You need to go to the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, Tenn. And if you can’t find a place to stay, my mother will put you up.”
I’d never heard of the festival, but she was right. I needed to go. It was all about storytelling, a magical power I’d been immersed in from birth and believed in with all my heart. It took place just over the mountains from the Carolinas, where I grew up, and would give me a chance to visit my family.
Most of all, it sounded like fun. So I went. [Read more…]