Workshop Note: For Alex's Eyes Only
We were talking about magic
Alex, in workshop we were talking about how to depict the fantastic by bridging from the known, everyday world.
I gave the Craig Clevenger example about Vicodin. But do you recall the first time you saw shaving cream billow out of a spray can? The blue/white foamy miracle that smelled so good? That was magic. That’s the sort of thing you can revisit to remind the reader how magic used to happen.
The magic for me has always been in a chequebook. Write a number on a piece of paper and money just appears. Sheer magic.
My dad was telling my mum about some bills they had to pay. Growing debts. The usual struggle. I sit next to him, my feet dangling off the chair and say, “Dad.” My tiny hand patting his shoulder, I say, “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you write a big number on your cheque book to get all the money you need? Like a big, big number, Dad. A million bucks. Maybe two.”
I think he laughed. Or maybe he just gave me that look of compassion that people who want to solve real problems with magic always get.
I'm not Alex [clearly], but thanks for this.
When I was a child, I used to walk to school with my sister. We noticed some pretty yellow flowers popping up in lawns in the spring. The leaves of the plants were even shaped like hearts. The first time I bent down and sniffed one of the flowers, the petals curled around my nose like a little kiss. It tickled. My sister and I took to calling them "kissie flowers." Now I've learned it's called yellow woodsorrel. Apparently it's considered a weed. Still feels like magic to me. 😊