M.B. Gibson's Blog

Return to Natchez: Under the Hill

“Without a single exception, the most licentious spot that I ever saw.” That was travel writer, William Richardson’s take in 1816. Also described as “where the only thing cheaper than the body of a woman was the life of a man,” PRYOR KNOWLEDGE opens with a detailed description of this wild and wicked river town along the […]

“You old African! I found you!”

These words, spoken by James Earl Jones as Alex Haley, were repeated by my husband, Wendy, when we located the grave of my third great-grandfather, Adam Lewis Bingaman. While not as fantastical (nearly impossible) nor as profound as finding Kunta Kinte through the words of the Gambian griot, they felt right in the moment. To […]

“There is nothing to writing…”

According to Ernest Hemingway, “all you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” Our recent trip to Key West required a visit to the enigmatic author’s home. As an admirer of his sparse writing style and fascinated by his audacious life, the tour of his home did not disappoint. Built by Asa Tift […]

“There is nothing to writing.”

According to Ernest Hemingway, “all you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” Our recent trip to Key West required a visit to the enigmatic author’s home. As an admirer of his sparse writing style and fascinated by his audacious life, the tour of his home did not disappoint. Built by Asa Tift […]

“A Haiku of the Story”

An American graphic designer, Chip Kidd, is known for his amazing book covers. It was he who said, “A book cover is a distillation. It is a haiku of the story.” Aside from being poetic, his quote is accurate. A cover gives a glimpse into the genre and, perhaps, its theme. For my upcoming book, […]

Land of the Shackled

“What we unfortunate English people suffer here is beyond the probability of you in England to conceive. Let it suffice that I, one of the unhappy number, am toiling almost day and night, and very often in the horses’ drudgery, with only this comfort that: ‘You bitch, you do not half enough…’”    —undelivered letter from indentured servant, Elizabeth Spriggs, to her father, 1756 Wow. That’s not the way I heard it. School history books describe an honorable method for the poor, but hard-working colonist wannabes to finance their passages across the Atlantic. The textbook, The American Journey, says “Other men, ...

Robert Johnson: Speak of the Devil

I’m not a musician. I can’t keep a decent beat when I clap along. Throughout my life, I haven’t been an avid listener, either. I’ve enjoyed lots of music but often couldn’t tell you who sang a song or even the title. Then, the pandemic hit and I found a new hobby of listening to YouTube songs, especially reactions to ones I’ve enjoyed. Through this, I realized I love the blues. And while I like the modern singers, I’m captivated by the early ones. Those tinny, scratchy recordings that echo through the years. The hollow voices are rife with deep ...

Hidden History: Charles Deslondes

Charles Deslondes is a name lost to history. By design. Born in either Haiti or Louisana around 1789, he was described on plantation records as a “Creole mulatto slave,” a “field laborer.” As a young man, he was loaned to a cruel planter, Colonel Manuel Andry, as the overseer to the master’s eighty-six slaves. Charles’s position afforded him more power and privilege, a better life than those he managed. In a ruthless system of forced labor, you’d think he’d bask in his upgraded status. But he was still enslaved. Not his own man. He never would be. Associating with two ...

A Popcorn Sutton Sequel

Recently, my whole family spent a week in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. One highlight I refused to miss was a moonshine tasting—especially one that featured Popcorn Sutton’s shine! And that’s exactly what we found on the main drag at the Ole Smoky Distillery. A big draw for a multi-generational family is that the kids can eat ice cream and listen to top-notch bluegrass music while those adults who aren’t driving head inside. A large four-sided bar in the middle of stacks and shelves of products is manned by several bartenders. When an opening occurs, you sidle up and get ready to taste. ...

Lukey and the Boxer

My grandfather, Lukey, was one of my favorite people. During high school and college, I worked with him on Saturdays at the laundromat he ran. Besides washers and dryers, it also housed a coin-operated dry cleaning service. My job was to speedily get the dry-cleaned items out of the machine and onto hangers before they wrinkled. At five foot, four inches, Lukey could be described as a bantam rooster. Strong-minded, to his benefit as well as his detriment, he found humor in most things. Especially his own absent-mindedness. A good example was when I took my eight-year-old sister, Judy, to ...