Like every author on the verge of a special, big new project, I well remember that transcendent moment of first inspiration for THE GARDEN OF ABRACADABRA.
Often that inspiration springs from something quotidian. You’re in the shower. Or shopping for groceries. Or, in this instance, searching for a parking space in Berkeley. Berkeley is a small leafy university town across the Bay from San Francisco, the historic home of the original University of California campus. The town is so crowded now, searching for a parking place on the street is something of a quixotic quest.
As Tom and I cruised through unfamiliar neighborhoods of vintage brown-shingled Craftsman houses surrounded by old oaks and elms, looking for that elusive parking space, we passed a spectacular 1920s Mediterranean apartment building. We were both instantly struck by its opulence and beauty. But more than that, the place had a powerful vibe. It was spooky!
The idea sprang instantly to mind--what if you hired on as the superintendent of a building like that only to discover every one of yours tenants was some stripe of supernatural being—witches, shapeshifters, vampires, wizards--and every apartment was a portal to a fantasy world? To a fairyland or a hell?
Often that inspiration springs from something quotidian. You’re in the shower. Or shopping for groceries. Or, in this instance, searching for a parking space in Berkeley.
Berkeley is a small leafy university town across the Bay from San Francisco, the historic home of the original University of California campus. The town is so crowded now, searching for a parking place on the street is something of a quixotic quest.
As Tom and I cruised through unfamiliar neighborhoods of vintage brown-shingled Craftsman houses surrounded by old oaks and elms, looking for that elusive parking space, we passed a spectacular 1920s Mediterranean apartment building. We were both instantly struck by its opulence and beauty. But more than that, the place had a powerful vibe. It was spooky!
The idea sprang instantly to mind--what if you hired on as the superintendent of a building like that only to discover every one of yours tenants was some stripe of supernatural being—witches, shapeshifters, vampires, wizards--and every apartment was a portal to a fantasy world? To a fairyland or a hell?