Tarot cards. Just the idea conjures up images of things like crystal balls, and fortune tellers in caravans. But is that accurate? Where and how did tarot cards originate, and are they inherently evil or fairly innocuous?
The tarot is a pack of playing cards first used in the mid-15th century in Europe to play games such as the Italian "tarocchini" and the French "tarot". It wasn't until the late 18th century that it began to be used for divination - in the form of tarotology and cartomancy.
One of the characters in my newest book, "The Enchanted Garden Cafe," is Madame Lucinda. She owns The Hocus Pocus Magic Shoppe (also the title of what will be the second book in my series), and she is a reader of tarot cards. My main character, Fiona, scoffs at the idea, until something strange happens, and several of Madame Lucinda's predictions seem to come true.
So are tarot cards really a means to see into the future, or are they connected with something darker and more sinister? According to an article I found by Theresa Reed, "The Tarot Lady," the cards themselves are neutral. She goes on to say it might be possible that the intent of the user could be negative, but even that doesn't make tarot cards inherently bad, and "... if we go by that theory, then a kitchen knife should be evil because someone MIGHT do something harmful with one."
Most people use tarot to help them find direction, and as a tool for problem solving and decision making. Most professional tarot card readers start doing it because they want to help people. That doesn't sound very evil, does it?
Perhaps the fear associated with tarot, is more the fear of the unknown, or the feeling it violates closely held religious or spiritual beliefs. In response to this, Ms. Reed says, "For the people who assume that tarot is against their religious beliefs, then it is best to respect that and leave it be. You don’t need to be converting anyone. Do not take their opinion personally. Instead be a model of mutual respect – honor their beliefs and do not ridicule nor argue – and encourage them to do the same when it comes to your tarot lovin’ ways. We can coexist even if we disagree!"
Oh. I love that. I may to get that on a bumper sticker. Seriously. Wouldn't it be nice if everyone had that same world view?
Ms. Reed also says, "Tarot is a wonderful guide in life’s journey but it’s not for everyone. And you know what? That’s okay."
I think I love Ms. Reed. She seems awesome. And I think I want to learn more about tarot. If nothing else, just for the experience, and because the cards are so pretty.
This one is called "The Lovers," and let me just say, it does pop up in my book. (wink, wink, nod, nod). And it's so much more pleasant than the other card that comes up...."The Devil."
EEK!!
To find out what happens, you'll just have to read "The Enchanted Garden Cafe," available now on Amazon.
The tarot is a pack of playing cards first used in the mid-15th century in Europe to play games such as the Italian "tarocchini" and the French "tarot". It wasn't until the late 18th century that it began to be used for divination - in the form of tarotology and cartomancy.
So are tarot cards really a means to see into the future, or are they connected with something darker and more sinister? According to an article I found by Theresa Reed, "The Tarot Lady," the cards themselves are neutral. She goes on to say it might be possible that the intent of the user could be negative, but even that doesn't make tarot cards inherently bad, and "... if we go by that theory, then a kitchen knife should be evil because someone MIGHT do something harmful with one."
Most people use tarot to help them find direction, and as a tool for problem solving and decision making. Most professional tarot card readers start doing it because they want to help people. That doesn't sound very evil, does it?
Oh. I love that. I may to get that on a bumper sticker. Seriously. Wouldn't it be nice if everyone had that same world view?
Ms. Reed also says, "Tarot is a wonderful guide in life’s journey but it’s not for everyone. And you know what? That’s okay."
I think I love Ms. Reed. She seems awesome. And I think I want to learn more about tarot. If nothing else, just for the experience, and because the cards are so pretty.
This one is called "The Lovers," and let me just say, it does pop up in my book. (wink, wink, nod, nod). And it's so much more pleasant than the other card that comes up...."The Devil."
EEK!!
To find out what happens, you'll just have to read "The Enchanted Garden Cafe," available now on Amazon.
The Enchanted Garden Café
South Side Stories
Book One
Abigail Drake
Genre: Women’s Fiction
Publisher: Kindle Press
Date of Publication: May 1, 2018
ASIN: B079ST8JW1
Number of pages: 272
Word Count: 89,000
Cover Artist: Najla Qamber
Tagline: Something magical is happening in the garden.
Book Description:
For her sixth birthday, Fiona Campbell’s mother, Claire, made her a peace sign piñata filled with wishes for a better planet instead of candy. When she got her period, her mother held a womanhood ceremony at their café and invited the neighborhood. On her sixteenth birthday, they celebrated with a drum circle.
Fiona grew up trying to keep the impulsive Claire in check, and their struggling café afloat. She plans to move out, but first must find a way to stop a big corporation from tearing down their business and destroying her mother’s livelihood.
Claire thinks karma will solve their financial and legal problems. Fiona prefers a spreadsheet and a solid business plan. The last thing she has time for is Matthew Monroe, a handsome complication who walks through their door with a guitar on his back and a naughty gleam in his eye. But when disaster strikes, and Fiona’s forced to turn to him for help, will she learn to open her heart and find she can believe in something magical after all?
Excerpt:
Falling
in love is like baking.
Results
may vary with experience.
~Aunt
Francesca~
Chapter One
I
opened the box and stepped back, tripping over a pile of Himalayan wind chimes
I’d left lying behind me on the floor of the shop. They clanked in a discordant
melody as I untangled them from my feet.
“What
the heck?” I asked, ignoring the chimes and focusing on the parcel that had
arrived in the mail earlier that morning. Tiny stone phalluses in various
shades of gray filled the container to the brim. Checking the return address, I
noticed the shipping cost and wanted to cry. Most of our inventory budget for
the entire month had been used to mail this one small box halfway around the
world.
“Mom,
what exactly did you order from Inuyama, Japan?”
My
mother popped her head around the corner, a bright smile on her face. “Did they
finally arrive, Fiona? I’ve been waiting for ages.”
“For stone penises?”
Why was I even surprised? This
wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, and it probably
wouldn’t be the last. My mother, Claire de Lune Campbell, had never been the
master of impulse control, and she had a history of making very poor decisions.
She’d been born Claire Campbell and added the “de Lune” in, what I can only
guess, was a moment of pot-induced inspiration. The pot no longer played a part
in her life, but the total inability to make common-sense decisions remained.
Mom
picked up one of the stone penises, a happy twinkle in her eye. “Aren’t they
lovely?”
On the outside, Mom and I looked
alike. The same blonde hair, the same blue eyes, the same stubborn tilt to our
chins, but there the resemblance ended. Mom was as happy and bright as a
butterfly landing on a flower, and she had the same level of fiscal
responsibility. I stressed about everything, especially money, but I had good
cause.
My mom owned and operated the
Enchanted Garden Café, where we served food, coffee, and specially blended teas
and sold unusual items in our small gift shop. Nestled in the middle of the
South Side, the funky hippie district of Pittsburgh, it was the perfect spot
for my mom but a constant source of anxiety for me.
I wiped sweat from my face and
brushed off my clothing. Dust covered my T-shirt and shorts, and some kind of
stone powder had fallen out of the box from Inuyama onto my tennis shoes. Mom,
glowing in a dress made from recycled saris, didn’t have a speck of dust on
her, but she hadn’t handled the phalluses.
Kate, the girl who worked behind
the counter, came over to us, her blue eyes alight with curiosity. “I want to
see them,” she said. Mom handed her one, and she studied it closely, peering at
it through the thick black frames of her retro hipster glasses. Her ebony hair
was pulled off to the side in a low ponytail, and her colorful tattoos peeked
through the crocheted black cardigan covering her pale skin. “At least they are
anatomically correct. Look at those veins.”
My
cheeks grew warm, and Mom smiled, putting a cool hand against my face. “Aww,
Fiona is blushing.”
“No,
I’m not. It’s hot in here.”
“Of
course it is,” she said, making me feel twelve instead of twenty-five, but it
was hot for early June, and the air-conditioning was broken. Again. Even with
all the windows open, it still felt stuffy.
I
ignored her and picked up a penis. “What are these things anyway?”
She
beamed at me with pure, unfiltered happiness. “Fertility charms from a little
shrine in the mountains of Japan. They have a big festival there every year. I
went once.”
She
sighed, most likely remembering happy times at the fertility festival, and went
back to the kitchen. I looked at Kate and rolled my eyes, making her snicker,
before getting back to work. The fertility charms came in all sizes and seemed
handmade. I just wasn’t sure how to sell them or where to display them in our
shop.
A
Victorian eyesore, the café was painted on the outside in what once had been a
mix of bright pink and various shades of green. The pink had faded to a dull
rose, and the green looked like the color of old limes just before they rotted.
It needed work and a fresh coat of paint, but instead of doing so, we spent our
money on phalluses from Japan. That was how things worked with my mother. No
planning. No rhyme or reason. No logic. No rational thought.
The
bell above the door tinkled, and I turned, a penis in each hand, as a stranger
walked into the shop. I couldn’t see his face at first because the sun was at
his back, but he carried a guitar case. A sure sign of trouble.
“Hello,”
he said as he came closer.
He had straight dark hair that
brushed his shoulders, brown eyes, and a goatee. He reminded me of a sexy,
naughty French pirate, and I knew his kind well. Close to my age, he was
definitely one of the artsy, flighty types who always hung out around my mom. I
could spot them a mile away.
“Holy
guacamole, if he were any hotter, I’d need new underwear,” whispered Kate,
taking off to the back of the shop and leaving me alone to greet the stranger.
About the Author:
Abigail Drake is the award-winning author of twelve novels, including three young adult books under the name Wende Dikec. She has spent her life traveling the world, and collecting stories wherever she visited. She majored in Japanese and International Economics in college and worked in import/export and as an ESL teacher before she committed herself full time to writing. She writes in several romance genres, and her books are quirky, light, and fun.
Abigail is a trekkie, a book hoarder, the master of the Nespresso machine, a red wine addict, and the mother of three boys (probably the main reason for her red wine addiction). A puppy named Capone is the most recent addition to her family, and she blogs about him as a way of maintaining what little sanity she has left.
She is a member of Pennwriters, RWA, Three Rivers Romance Writers, Mindful Writers, Women's Fiction Writers, and the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators. She teaches writing to children, and her non-fiction article about the life of a child in Istanbul was published in Faces Magazine (an imprint of Cricket Magazine) in February 2016.
Newsletter: http://madmimi.com/signups/181796/join
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2 comments:
Sounds interesting and hot.
I love tarot cards. We have several sets in the house. My two youngest children are also drawn to Tarot and oracle cards. I think we have so many sets simply because of all the beautiful artwork.
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