Dear readers, tonight with me is a simple woman, living a quiet life – a single mother, a herbalist, and a heathen witch. When she discovered her step-sister disappeared after joining a cult, she went after her – and was not quite prepared for what she found out.
She is here to tell us of her adventures, and all the things she found out becoming an accidental hero.
Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?
I grew up in English, a small town south of Indianapolis, near Jasper. It was a quiet place in the Hoosier National Forest, with few people and fewer things to do. We moved there because my father worked in manufacturing and was supervisor for a Toyota plant. Mom worked as an office manager (read: secretary) for various offices in the area. She bounced around from job to job. In retrospect, it may have been because she didn’t want people to know too much about her and the fact that she was more black than the Hispanic she passed for. It was a pretty racist area, so I never did get the full genealogy of her side of the family. She became even more withdrawn after the divorce, but we ended up stuck there. I got used to the racial crap and the evasion game that came with dark features, and I ended up moving back that way after more than a decade in Indianapolis.
Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?
I don’t remember having any favourite toys – a second-hand easy bake oven that popped out muffins still raw in the middle, a Glo-Worm doll with a dirty-green body from my carrying it (and leaving it) everywhere, a Game Boy with Tetris that I played until the screen broke, a modest collection of My Little Ponies and Pound Puppies, a View Master with only two cards (Mickey Mouse and the Jetsons)… Mostly, I explored the wooded area behind our house. I would run around for hours with a backpack full of dehydrated soup mix (I would chew on the crunchy veggies), a military surplus canteen of water, and a 4 foot stick sharpened to a rough point to use as a walking stick and a spear, if I ran into any bears. Fortunately, I didn’t see any wildlife more dangerous than a whitetail doe. Continue reading “Nicola Crandall (of Too Wyrd by Sarah Buhrman)”