We use it all the time to describe a baby’s first laugh, a romantic moment, the illusions of a Vegas showman, or even the most mundane objects. I even have a blender called a “Magic Bullet.”
In books and movies, magic can be the basis for how the world works, the properties of a box that hurls you into hell, or a bearded old man who studied it his whole life and waves a wand to make crazy stuff happen.
So what is magic, exactly? The word is almost as slippery to define as “love.”
In the world of the Hidden, where Monster in My Closet takes place, the nooks and crannies of the human world house an astounding array of monsters, urban legends and mythical creatures. Are they magical? We could argue that their very existence makes them so. But if we said that, we’d have to say the same of humans. We’re probably just as amazing to them.
The individual creatures often have abilities we might call magical. Closet monsters can travel from one closet to another through portals. That might be magic. But maybe it’s just their nature. Maybe there’s a scientific reason, like the portals are always there, but the vibrational frequency coded in a closet monster’s DNA makes it possible for them to see the portals and travel through them.
And then there are brownies—tiny, industrious little people with pointed ears. They can’t fall. If they get knocked off the table or out of a tree, they float to the ground. Is this magic? Maybe. Or maybe they have hollow bones like birds, or tiny-helium producing glands that keep them afloat on their way down. You don’t know. Have you ever dissected a brownie? (Please don’t. They have families, and the paperwork would be mind-numbing.)
What about the fire-breathing pigmy dragon, Bruce? Is the fire magical, or is it a chemical reaction that occurs from chewing brimstone? Molly the brownie says Bruce is sick because the furnace in his belly is broken. Is that magic? Is it science? What happens when he has a tummy ache? I don’t really want to think about the ramifications of a fire-breathing dragon with gas. Talk amongst yourselves on that one.
The point is, in the world of the Hidden—and here in our own world, too—strange things are everywhere. It might all be controlled by science we haven’t cracked yet. Or maybe magic is real, and we’re trying too hard to explain it away.
Much is Hidden. Magic is everywhere.
But only if you believe.
What’s hiding in your closet? Under your bed? In that baffling hole that appeared in your garden? Tell me about the mysterious something you glimpse at night, just as you’re falling asleep. I might need ideas for the next book.
I stopped believing in monsters long ago. But I knew I wasn’t imagining things when I found one in my kitchen baking muffins. I’d seen him before: lurking in my closet, scaring the crap out of my five-year-old self. Turns out that was a misunderstanding, and now Maurice needs a place to stay. How could I say no?
After all, I’ve always been a magnet for the emotionally needy, and not just in my work as a wedding planner. Being able to sense the feelings of others can be a major pain. Don’t get me wrong, I like helping people—and non-people. But this ability has turned me into a gourmet feast for an incubus, a demon that feeds off emotional energy. Now, brides are dropping dead all over town, and my home has become a safe house for the supernatural. I must learn to focus my powers and defeat the demon before he snacks on another innocent woman and comes looking for the main course…
Buy Monster in My Closet from Carina Press. The gremlins in your walls want to read it over your shoulder. They don’t have their own e-readers.