The real magic of fantasy writing

When I was thirteen, I went to the College of Magic, to learn all I could. It was kind of a Harry Potter school for stage magicians – there are rabbits coming out of hats, white doves flapping about and silk scarves that turned into ropes. I sat down eagerly to my first class, apprentice wizard that I was. I was told there is no magic. I was told it is all illusion, all trickery, all a sham. I couldn't have been more disappointed.

What followed were three years of interesting sleight of hand t...