It took a lot to decide to create this blog, but once the idea was firmly implanted, the decision had to be made about what to call the damn thing.
I have admired the work of various writers, notably Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Jose Saramago, who have been labeled "magical realist" writers. I might add to that list another of my favorites, Kurt Vonnegut, who, while not labeled by others as a magical realist, certainly seems that way to me.
A quick definition, from that font of knowledge Wikipedia, as to what magical realism is, for those of you who don't know:
Magic realism (or magical realism) is an artistic genre in which magical elements or illogical scenarios appear in an otherwise realistic or even "normal" setting.
Now I am not saying, by any means, that, you know, elves and shit are appearing on my front yard. Or that God has spoken to me through some coins. Or whatever. I am just noting that in my life, sometimes it seems to me that illogical scenarios sometimes interpose themselves in my rather "normal" life. And sometimes a normal life just appears magical to outsiders who aren't living it. Either way, here is my attempt to capture some of what happens to me and my family as we move through this brief speck of infinite time, and try to make sense of it.
