Joe Labero got a wizard’s box of his parents when he was twelve. So did I. I even think that I might have been younger. He turned into a famous magician. I did not.
There is a reason for this, of course. I guess you could say that I had no natural talent for it.
Once at school when I should perform with a friend I realized I had a short sleeved T-shirt on. There was no way I could make my wizard’s wand grow in my hands with short sleeves.
And at a gathering I had prepared a few tricks which presumed I had the audience right in front of me, not surrounding me.
I had this trick where I balanced a glass on a single playing card. The card was double and half of the back card was folded back to support the glass and making the card stand. I had no clue that I exposed this by the way I hold the card when I unfolded the support.
No natural talent at all.
My husband bought a UFO the other day that he thought he looked like a funny item, but didn’t really know what it was. It turned out to be a wizard’s trick. I tried it out, and smiled as I remembered how eager I was to show off my new tricks long before I was ready to perform them.
It was more like I wanted to show that I knew how to do them, rather than illuminate the audience that the cup really balanced on that card. One well practiced trick would have been far better than ten little rehearsed.
What has this got to do with screenwriting?
Not much. Just that I believe that everybody needs practice to become good, and talent is needed for greatness.
Joe Labero has talent for magic. I have a talent for writing. For me, the greatness is yet to come.
Photo belongs to Drammens Teater