When I think about magical realism, I think of a scene in Love in the Time of Cholera.

In the novel, Gabriel Garcia Marquez describes the movement of a parrot, like an emerald moving through the sky. The green of the bird, the green of the leaves, and then the image of the emerald against the sky made me, as a reader, swoon. I lingered over that detail for hours, trying to burn it into my memory, tattoo it, so that I could still see it when I closed my eyes. Though I don’t remember the context, that one detail, that one color is magic.

That’s what I know magical realism to be.

It’s the way my dad told stories of pre-Revolution Cuba, how I could see streets and locations of a bygone era as if I lived them myself. It’s how I describe my family, both superheroes and villains without capes or superpowers.

That’s the magic, engrained into everyday reality.

But lately, reality is just too … real.

Way too real. And, as a result, sometimes it seems like the magic has been drained from the earth.

• Remember when there was more wonder and magic in the world?
• Remember when there were still mysteries and the only angst was the yearning to create?
• Remember when you could travel the world in one afternoon just by imagining you could?

Using eUsing examples from books, documentaries, movies, and everyday life as inspiration, I will guide participants through a free, online generative workshop. That means we’ll be creating new work by tapping into the genre of magical realism.

And couldn’t you use a little more magic in your lives?

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Sometimes happiness is a blessing, but generally it is a conquest. Each day’s magic moment helps.

Paulo Coelho

Listen, I can’t promise you you’ll write like Garcia-Marquez at the end of the workshop but maybe, for at least that one hour and a half, you’ll have a little bit of fun.

To sign up, click the button below.