My book is anchored in magic realism.
Before defining it (as I understand it), I must first give the highest praise to the seminal work, “One Hundred Years of Solitude,” by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. He didn’t invent a new world, but rather showed us the magic in this one. He, basically, made the genre acceptable to a mass audience (beyond Latin America, where magic still is seen everywhere).
We all sink our feet into what reality is as a community, culture, society, etc. Red light means stop, green light means go. If the cost of milk is $4.20 and I hand the cashier $5, I’m getting 80 cents back. That’s reality…but if I went into the store, and bumped into a man who stole my mother’s happiness, and became terrified and when terrified, my fingertips burned others…well, then you’ve added some magic. I still would get the same amount of change back, and the milk would still be on the same spot on the shelf BUT the magic doesn’t need to be explained just as the cost of milk needs no explanation.
My book, “Inside the River,” begins with the fish forgetting their pact of silence and popping their heads up and singing to Ana; she knows they want her to dive in and away from the suffering endured by her mother. The reader has to suspend reality or as I like to think of it, perceive reality in vaster, more creative ways, in order to enter the world of my book with an open mind.
The reader gets to interpret the magic or can just let it be part of the story. You can think how alone Ana was in her pain, the silence too unbearable for the fish and so they sang to her. You can think that the fish were waiting for the blue-haired girl so they could show their magic and help her access her own. You can think the singing fish was really Ana’s voice singing her freedom to the world.
Or you can just think that sometimes fish can pop their heads up, and when they do…please listen to what they have to say.