To the Eggplant Cannon Published

Take one magician, place her in a vegetable-themed amusement park, and make her late for her gig. That’s the start of “To the Eggplant Cannon”, my newest story, now up at Metaphorsis.


The amusement park was so large that it had two trains named after root vegetables. Vienne got on the wrong one.

Read the rest here.

Although I’m interested in magic, I’ve never performed a trick myself–unless you count that time when I was eight and made a salt shaker disappear (by dropping it onto my lap).

While writing this story, I got the urge to learn one. Since Vienne is an expert at card magic, of course I had to pull out a deck of cards.

This, intrepid reader, is the story of how I failed to learn “The Greatest Card Trick in the World”.

For this trick, you need to know two moves: the fan and the double-lift.

The fan. Pick a card, any card.

(The fan. Pick a card, any card.)

I practiced the fan for hours, and I still can’t get it right. I go too slowly or quickly, the cards clump up, and I can never get a satisfying grip. The first time I asked someone to draw a card, the whole deck went spinning out of my hand.

I’d like to blame my tiny hands, but I imagine the real problem is my lack of practice, knowledge, dedication, and talent. But also, I have really tiny hands.

My hands are the tiny ones.

(My hands are the tiny ones.)

The next move is the double-lift. Surprisingly, I found the lift easier than the fan, although I can only manage a satisfactory lift one out of every ten times.

I am holding two cards. This is a secret!

(I am holding two cards. This is a secret!)

This trick never goes right for me. I’m still trying to get that darn fan to work, and I’m not comfortable with the double-lift, either.

It turns out, learning a magic trick is hard. Learning to do it well is even harder. To master a trick, magicians have to be incredibly dedicated. I’m in awe of what they do–not only by the effects of their tricks, but by their mastery of a craft.

In which the author learns she is not cut out to be a magician.

(In which the author learns she is not cut out to be a magician.)

But as for me, I think I’ll stick to writing.