We agreed with him in principal - we were little scientists, born and bred. But children robbed of love will dwell on magic.
Those first few weeks are an unearthly season. From the outside you remain so ordinary, no one can tell from looking that you have experienced an earthquake of the soul. You've been torn asunder, invested with an ancient, incomprehensible magic. It's the one thing that we never quite get over: that we contain our own future.
But children robbed of love will dwell on magic.
Fiction is a sort of inter-human magic, allowing you to travel into a scene and feel it tingle on your skin.
A good title holds magic, some cognitive dissonance, a little grit between the teeth, but above all it is the jumping-off place into wonder.
