Amazing things often happen when we don’t look out for them. By ‘amazing’ I mean to focus on the tiny details of interactions and other instances of a day. Do you believe in magic? This is not the grand Fantasia magic or the wizardry of epics I’m talking about here: this is the ordinary magic of the world.
Artists gather other artists about them. They just can’t help it. There is Artist A, minding his or her own business, just taking a coffee or a beer or reading, when Artist B’s magnetic filings align. This happens too often to be co-incidence. I meet other writers, designers, poets, and singers this way. Beware, however, because trying to force such links will only repel them from you (or so I find). What happens, happens, or so we could believe. When the time is right, because of magnets, a gathering for some readings might take place . . .
Odd other instances take place which are unexpected, and which ordinarily may just seem matter-of-fact: I take three years to write thirty stories and find, somehow, that they all connect (other than the connections I’ve also engineered). This isn’t just a way of saying that themes run through; this is a way of saying that stories connect in unexpected ways. Magic has a way of being stealthy.
What of the great and unexpected occurrences though? What of the fabulous and weird and strange? Meteors land on Earth all the time, and what if one should come rolling down the hill outside my street? What if a plane should crash land, carving up the houses on either side, leaving mine unscathed? I’m on the flight path after all. One night, the moon shone in through my window, bright as day: I woke up to darkness. What happens, happens, or so we could believe.
I’ve been nominated for a writer’s award, apparently, out there in ‘meatspace’ (I do like that phrase!). It happens, though it was unexpected, like crash landings and light. What shall happen, shall happen.
I trust my words, my books, will find their magnetic filing others and — if they do, whoever they find — they will be the right people to have found them.
(Now, that writer I was talking to for several hours the other day — you know who you are — you seem to have crystallised some thoughts in me).