Mystery Solved

I got an email asking what is in the upper-left corner of The JAMM covers.

It's her...

Who's that? 

Beats me. I found her on the cover of this British magazine for teen girls from the 60s.

Why is she on The JAMM?

I dunno. I just like her.

Plus, when I first started, I didn't know what the JAMM would become. At that time I thought I might have articles like "PERFUME TIPS FOR A MORE KISSABLE YOU" and "COLOUR PICTURES OF OUTFITS TO MAKE YOU PRETTY IN THE RAIN 'N' SNOW."

Little did I know that those who subscribed to the JAMM have a natural beauty that makes them kissable and pretty (in the rain 'n' snow) because they're supporting this site. So those articles weren't needed.

If you're a "go-ahead" magician, you can subscribe to The JAMM here

The Amateur Magician's Heckler Stopper

I almost never get the opportunity to deal with hecklers. Despite the fact that I go out of my way to perform a lot in social situations I don't really ever get some alpha-male trying to knock me down a peg or two. Part of that is because of my natural presence, part of that is the style I perform in which doesn't invite people to tear it down in the way traditional magician-centric performances do, and part of it is that I avoid hanging out with losers. 

This weekend, however, I did have a situation where I was hanging around a picnic table with a group of people, at a lake near where I'm staying. These are people I just recently met so I didn't know the dynamic between everyone. At one point I started showing a couple tricks to people with a deck they had been using to play card games. This was hyper low-key, just a step above comatose, really, but it was the right style for the situation. So I showed a trick to people and everyone seemed to enjoy it, except one guy. He was a young-20s, little meat-head dude. And he was like, "Nice one, Mr. Wizard. What else do you got? Let's see another one, David Blaine." 

The weird thing was, I got the sense he really did want to see another one, but I think he thought it would be too lame to say, "Oh, that was cool. Do you have any more?" So he was asking for more but in a way that implied he wasn't into it. I think he thought this was a cool vibe to put off for the girls around the table. It's not. If you're a young insecure guy, just do the opposite of what you think is a good instinct in every situation. You'll probably be better off.

He continued to talk a little shit. Now normally I would have been inclined to tell the guy to fuck off, but I didn't want to create a weird vibe with these people I'd just met, 7/8ths of whom I really liked. And it's not that he was being a total asshole, per se, he was just putting forth a destructive energy to the interaction, he wasn't adding anything to it. I'm not particularly sensitive about this sort of thing. Some people see David Letterman's treatment of David Roth here as heckling. I don't see that at all. I see it as someone goofing around. And I'm all for that.

But this guy was just willfully trying to fuck with people's enjoyment and had a dumb comment about every thing that was going on. (Earlier in the evening someone was playing guitar and he was intentionally singing loudly and poorly over the guy's playing. That's the type of corny tool he was.)

So I decided to show him something and try to engage him. At one point he says, "Wait... give me the deck now and let me shuffle it." The fact was, if I were to give him the deck to shuffle at that point the trick would be ruined. But, for me, the effect would also be ruined if I was like, "uuhh... NO! No. You can't have the deck," and then pull it away like a frightened little wuss. So I tossed him the deck and I was like, "Yeah, sure, knock yourself out." And he shuffled it and the trick was ruined. 

At this point I didn't really know what I was going to do. And then I flashed back on the advice I've always heard for dealing with difficult spectators. Like hitting them with a stinging heckler's retort, or showing them a trick that's so strong it will just blow them away to the point where they find it impossible to critique the effect, or maybe being overly kind to try and win them over. 

But then I thought, Like everything written about in magic, that's all advice for the professional. Let me just do the opposite of what traditional magic advice would say. That's usually my go-to technique when deciding what's a good tack to take for an amateur. "What have magicians been saying for the past 100 years? Okay, I'll do the opposite of that."

So I just let the trick fail. I searched for his card, suggested a few possibilities. I asked him to really concentrate and I gave it one more shot. I was wrong again. 

He didn't start laughing in my face or something. He was just like, "Oh, gee... great trick!" in a condescending manner. 

Then what I did is I started comforting him a little. "Ah, It's okay, man. It happens." I started treating him like we were about to have sex but he couldn't get it up. "Don't worry about it," I said. I was saying this genuinely. Not as a joke.

He was expecting me to be embarrassed and instead I was consoling him. "It's no big deal," I said. "These sorts of things don't work with everyone."

"Actually, you would be great for this one," I said, turning towards another person at the table. "Let's try it. This will be fun." And now I'm off having fun with the other people.

Meat-head dude kind of hung back for a minute, and when he reintegrated himself into what was going on a few moments later his attitude had shifted. He wasn't exactly super enthusiastic but he had dropped the annoying shit he had been doing.

I can't say I know for sure the psychology of why this worked. But I think what is happening is this: When someone is genuinely antagonistic to you and your performance then, on some level, they probably want to see you fail. So by failing outright and showing just how little it affects you, you essentially remove that tactic from their arsenal. They're not going to take you down by screwing up your trick, because you apparently don't care that much one way or the other. In fact, your language suggests that if anyone should feel bad, they should.

By lightly consoling your heckler when the trick fails you are also helping establish the idea that when things go right, it's, in part, due to the spectator as well. Which is a good idea to establish.

So yeah, I'm suggesting that when dealing with someone who is being adversarial towards you, it may be a power position to just completely fuck up the trick. It's the course I will take in the future should this ever happen again. 

Obviously it's not for everyone. You can instead do some bits like this or this if you think that will work. I just have a hard time imagining using something like that in the situations I perform. And I'd be surprised if someone who is sincerely trying to undercut your performance would be deterred by some schtick. But what do I know. As I said, I rarely deal with people like this.  If you find this happening to you a lot... well... as the saying goes...

Think Little

JAMM #7 was running a little long, so I excised this opening tangent for one of the effects. It's something I think is valuable even without the trick it was attached to.


There was a trick I learned as a kid and it went like this: You would spread a deck of cards between your hands. There would be a joker face-up a quarter of the way from the top and another joker face-up a quarter of the way from the bottom. You would ask your spectator to slide out any three cards from between the two jokers. Those cards would be set on the table face down. You then tell them that the deck is in a special configuration. You turn the deck over and spread it on the table and show them that all the cards between the two jokers are red. “But before this trick,” you say, “I put three black cards in with the red cards.” You then have them turn over the cards they pulled out and they find that they've removed the only three black cards amongst the red cards.

The method, if it’s not immediately obvious, is that the deck is set up with all the black cards together, a face-up joker on the top and the bottom of the face-down black cards, then half the red card above the top joker, and half the red cards below the bottom joker.

You have them choose three cards from between the jokers. They, of course, get three black cards. Then you do any sort of pass near the middle of the deck and now the setup of the deck is the opposite of what it was. So you can reveal they chose the only black cards out of a grouping of red cards.

It may not seem like much of a trick. It may seem like one of the first tricks anyone came up with after the invention of the pass, and it probably was. But while it may seem obvious, it always got a pretty good reaction when I performed it.

[Edit: I've been informed this is Roy Walton's effect, Pass at Red, which was in MAGIC magazine in May, 1992. So, far from being "one of the first tricks anyone came up with after the invention of the pass," it was actually created right around when I was performing it. (I must have learned it from MAGIC, or from someone who did.) I certainly wasn't intending to minimize the effect by saying it feels like an obvious outgrowth of the move. For Roy Walton to be able to come up with an effect that feels so elemental, yet no one thought of for 100s of years, is pretty amazing.]

One time, when I was in my teens,  I performed the trick for my cousin and he came up to me a half hour later and said, “You just cut the deck.” He'd worked it out in his head. I did that response we all do when we’re busted. You just repeat what they say but do so in a way that implies it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard while you stall for time. “I cut the deck?! Pssht… I mean...like you wouldn’t notice me cutting the deck? That’s hilarious.”

“I didn’t know to look for it. I think you just cut the deck,” he said.

I then went into my second phase of being busted. That phase where I acknowledge the method they suggest might work, but that only an idiot wouldn't see through it immediately. “I mean I guess you could do it that way… but… I mean…[sigh]... I just can’t see anybody being fooled by that. You would be fooled by that?”

From there I went into the third phase where I act like they’re doing me a favor by suggesting such a ridiculous method. “Actually, I’m glad you brought that up. I never would have thought someone would think that’s how it’s done. Next time I’ll have to make it clear I’m not cutting the deck.”

Then, I had a rare moment of magical bravery for myself at that age and I offered to show the trick to him again. So I set up the cards, had him choose three and I did this all very slowly. Then I said, super condescendingly, “I’m just going to turn over the cards. I’m not cutting the deck, am I? Did I cut the deck?” And, of course, as I’m saying this I am cutting the deck by means of a turnover pass.

I spread the deck on the table and he said, “Hmmm… okay… then I don’t know how you did it.”

YOU’RE GODDAMN RIGHT YOU DON’T, BITCH!!

Now, he knew exactly what I did, but I was able to get away with it because his concept of a “cut” (one hand moving and swinging around the other hand, or two hands moving together) was something that took place in a space much bigger than a pass takes place in. So when he didn’t see me occupying the space required to cut the deck he assumed the deck wasn’t cut. It’s not that the method was cleverer than he could imagine, it’s just that the move was littler than he could imagine.

This is probably stating the obvious, but a lot of magic is just the execution of something in a smaller amount of space than the spectator imagines it takes. A thumb writer, for example, fools people because their concept of writing requires moving the full hand while holding a sizable writing implement.

I've found it helpful, when working on a method, to think dimensionally.  That is, instead of the question, "How do I get them to not think I just did X?" I'll pose the question, "How do I do X in a smaller amount of space (or smaller amount of time) than they believe it can be done in? So even if they do come up with X for a method, they'll be forced to dismiss it."

There’s another move in magic that is nothing more or less than a “littler” execution of an action a spectator would assume is done in a much bigger way. And the following two ideas rely solely on this one move...


What "little" move am I talking about? All will be revealed this Sunday night for JAMM subscribers.

Salvage Yard: Twixter

The phrase "this trick is worse than a botched back-alley abortion" gets thrown around a lot these days. But in this case... well... take a look...

It would be easy for me to say that the idea behind the trick is boneheaded. But that would be a lie because it would imply there's some idea behind the trick. The effect is wholly arbitrary. Usually you want a trick to address some kind of idea or concept that is almost primal in humans. Something we all can relate to. What if I could produce money from nowhere? What if I could make things I didn't like disappear? This effect answers the age-old question, "Does anyone have an idea of what we can do with all these fake Twix bars we have?"

It would also be easy for me to criticize his sleight of hand... because it sucks. It looks like he just learned the slip-force during the introduction to the video itself. And his palm and "color change" look like... I can't even describe it. This is the best take they had? And this is the stuff they kept, you can tell some of the sleights were edited out. If I had a scoop of mashed potatoes in my hand and held my hand over your plate and dropped the mashed potatoes on there, you wouldn't be like, "Where did those potatoes come from?" That's kind of what his sleight-of-hand looks like: someone palming mashed potatoes.

But I won't make fun of him for that, because not being good at sleight of hand is actually a good sign in my book. I mean, it's not what I want from the people I buy tricks from, but just in humans generally, if I have to drive cross-country with someone, give me the person who didn't waste most of his youth learning sleight of hand.

It would also be easy for me to draw your attention to those poor spectators. People who are just a few morse-code blinks away from me believing they are being held at gunpoint to watch this trick. It is almost impossible to get reactions that muted when there's a camera on. I've talked about how inaccurate demo videos are in the past. But usually they're used to make a decent trick look like it's mindblowingIn this case, the trick is so weak that even with the camera there, their responses are painfully indifferent. Like a parent who is focusing 98% of their attention on the newspaper they're trying to read, but still reacting to their kid doing some half-assed somersault for the 50th time. "Yeah. Sure sweetie. That's great."

All of that would be easy for me to do. So easy, in fact, that I could do it while telling you how I'm not going to do it. 

But I don't just want to criticize the guy behind this trick. So he had a bad idea and ran with it... that's alright. I'll take that over someone with a good idea who sits on their ass all day, never doing anything.

Instead, I'm going to try and salvage this turd. (To start, the trick might be better if you said, "I carry around two turds up my sleeve.")

When I see something that I think is particularly not good, I try and come up with some sort of context I might perform it in. I don't know if I've succeeded with this, but I gave it a shot. It's a good exercise to challenge your creativity if nothing else. 

The big question with this trick is Why?

Why do you have candy bars up your sleeves?

Why does the card disappear?

Why does the name of the card appear on the candy bar?

Why would you think anyone would want to play a game for a candy bar you had up your fucking sleeve?

Nobody knows. The only answer is, "Well, that's how the trick goes." 

Here is how I would perform this trick. Like, if someone had abducted someone I care about and they said I had to perform this trick if I ever wanted to see them again.

I'd approach the table and with perfect elocution and with that cocky fake-magician personality I'd day, "Good evening, everyone. My name is Andy the Magnificent. And I am here tonight to dazzle the eyes, and tickle the mind."

As everyone is thinking, Oh, this is gonna suck. I'd pull up a chair. 

"How does that sound?" I'd ask. "Do you like magic twicks?"

I'd then suddenly deflate. I'd drop all pretense and start acting like a real human for a moment. I'd let out a long sigh.

"Oh wow. I haven't said that in forever. Wow.... Hey, sorry. I'll get back to all that in a second. Can I tell you guys something? You seem like good people. I feel I can open up to you." 

I wouldn't say what follows as a joke, per se. But there's a way to speak with such sincerity about something stupid, that it's obvious your goofing around. That's how I would deliver the following monologue.

"I used to have a pretty bad speech impediment. I've worked really hard to lose it but it still creeps up from time to time. Saying twicks instead of tricks brings up a painful memory."

"You see, this one time, in fourth grade I was trying to impress this girl I liked, Tracy Connelly, with a magic trick. I had practiced for weeks. I was a shy kid because of my speech impediment, but I was determined to make my move on her."

"So one day I worked up the nerve and asked her if I could show her some magic. I did the the tw—the TRick—for her and she was really impressed. I remember her clapping her little hands together in delight. A bunch of other kids from school had gathered around and they were pretty impressed too. I wanted to say something charming so I leaned in and said, 'Just let me know if you'd like to see something else sometime. I have a lot of twicks up my sleeve.' And with that, the spell was broken, everyone just started laughing and pointing and I had to run home to keep from crying."

"But I had a plan to salvage things."

"The next day I came to school and Brian Couch said, 'Hey Andy, still got those twicks up your sleeve?' And everyone started laughing again. But I played it cool. I was just like. 'Yeah, of course I have them up my sleeve. I always do. That's my thing. You didn't know that?' And with that I pulled up my sleeves and showed them two Twix candy bars up my sleeves.  And then I turned the tables on Brian. I was like, 'Oh, did you think I mispronounced something? Oh my god. You're an idiot. Putting Twix up your sleeves is something my brother in college says everyone is doing. All the cool people at least.'"

"But to keep the ruse up, and to make sure I'd have something to fall back on if I made the mistake again, I had to keep Twix candy bars up my sleeves throughout the rest of my schooling. Up through high school and on through college. Even today I still have them there."

I roll up my sleeves and show the Twix bars. My forearms have gross smears of chocolate on them, and are tinted brown underneath from years of sleeved Twix bars.

"I actually came up with a trick to do with them, to help justify why I had them on me, want to see it?"

I would then force the two of hearts on someone. But a good force. Not like the one in the video. 

I would take the two and place it on the deck. I'd do an Erdnase color change for a blank card with a chocolate-y brown smear mark on it. "Damn," I'd say. "I was trying to make your card and the Twix bar change places. But I don't think I got all of it. Just the 2 and the hearts on your cards switched places with some of the chocolate from the Twix. No... for real." I'd then pick up the Twix, look it over, then notice where the 2 of Hearts was on the bottom. 

Ta-dumb! 

I mean... ta-daa!

"That's actually the trick I performed for that girl Tracy on the night I proposed to her many years later, and we're now happily married. Want to see a picture of her?"

When they say yes, I would reach into my pocket and pull out a picture that is covered in smeared, dried chocolate, to the point where you can't even make out what it's supposed to be. 

"Yes. She's my soulmate," I'd say.

Then I'd turn the photo over and on the back, written in pen, it would say:

Andy
+
Twacy
2014

"I also have a writing impediment."


It's still not a good trick, of course. But with a solid force it could maybe be a fooling one. And my presentation is about making the whole thing much dumber. This is a dumb trick. But he performs it almost as if it's not dumb. He performs it as if making a cad appear on the bottom of a Twix is cool or logical. You can't do that. Your only chance of getting away with performing a stupid trick is to make it much, much stupider. 

Bedrock: Outer Game

What follows is the general progression I take when first meeting someone to get them accustomed to, and then hyped for, more immersive presentations in magic. This is not set in stone, and it's not always the same, but it will give you some idea of how I build up some of the styles and techniques I've written about here.

This is not something that happens in one night. It happens over a number of days, if not over weeks or months. And this is just what I've found works for me and the style I'm trying to gear them towards.  This little algorithm of steps may not work for your style or your goals.

I'm going to provide you the general steps I follow and then give you a specific example from the last time I went through this process a couple months ago. This process is something you will use on people who are likely to be in your life long-term (new friends, co-workers, etc.) You're grooming them. Yes, like a sex predator with his favorite cub scout, you're systematically introducing new ideas and activities to people, a little at a time, until they've bought into your world. But you're a good kind of predator. You're only going to fuck their mind.

Step One

The last thing I want to do is say, "Hey, I do magic... want to see a trick?"  I think that goes along with people's worst instincts about magicians: that they're weird show-offs. Instead I want it to seem like I never would have mentioned it if they hadn't brought it up. I have a bunch of these techniques that I call "hooks" that I'll get into in the future. I would also recommend the essay, "She's Gotta Have It," in the JAMM #1 for some more of these techniques. 

So step one is to set out a hook. Properly done—with a person who has a modicum of interest in talking to you—you can almost always use some sort of hook to have them seemingly guide the conversation to magic.

Most Recent Example

I was at a cafe talking with a girl on one of the couches. I was wearing my GLOMM Elite membership shirt, which is a much-used "hook" for me.

At one point she pointed to my shirt and said, "I like your bunny."

"I like your pussy," I said, pointing at her crotch.

No. I'm kidding. That's not how it went.

She said, "I like your bunny," and I said, "Oh, thanks." 

"What is that shirt? Is that a real thing or...."

"Oh yeah. It's the Global League of Magicians and Mentalists. It's the largest magic organization in the word. I'm a member. Well... everyone who's into magic who isn't a sex offender is a member. So I'm in."

"Is it... like, a joke?" she asked. 

"No. No joke. I'm really not a sex offender. Oh... the shirt. Uhm... no, it's not really a joke."

"So you do magic?"

Boom. And now we're talking about magic. And she brought it up. Yes, the shirt is obviously a big invitation, but it's an unobtrusive one.

Step Two

I don't want the idea of me in a top hat and a cape shoving bunnies into boxes to be an image that hardens in the cement of people's minds once they learn I do magic. So I try to disrupt that thought but still keep expectations somewhat low.

Example

She asks if I do magic. 

I say: "Like tricks? Uhm... yeah. When I was a kid I used to be really into it. I still do some stuff now but it's probably not what you're thinking. Similar concepts but just... different."

This is all just nonsense. I just want their understanding of what I do to be a little nebulous. I found if I just answered the question, "Do you do magic?" with a "yes," sometimes I would get the sense that they were like, "Oh. I know what that is. I don't really like that." So now I try and keep it a little vague.

This almost universally gets them to ask me to show them something. Again, this all feels like their idea.

Step Three

"Can I see something?" the person asks.

"Oh, yeah sure," I say. "Uhm... yeah...actually there's something I've been working on that I could use your help with."

This is classic Peek Backstage technique. By saying it's "something you're working on" you've eliminated any potential weirdness of you as "the Magician." This is just a work in progress that they're helping out with.

Now the first trick you show them should be something simple and direct.

Example

Most recently my opening trick was a two-coin, coins across with quarters. 

Step Four

The next trick I perform for the person (often days later) is done in the Peek Backstage style as well. But this time I say, "Oh, can I try something with you? You'd be perfect for this." 

This is subtle, but when you tell someone "you'd be perfect for this," you're not only telling them something that feels somewhat complimentary, but you're also planting a seed. And that seed is that these things you're showing them are not just things you could do for anyone at anytime. This is something that's going to work well now because, YOU specifically are here with me. It's not just something that happens automatically. (This is the first step in messing with their understanding of how magic tricks work.)

But what do you do if they ask what you mean when you say they'd be "perfect" for it?

I say something like, "I think you have the right energy. And you strike me as perceptive and imaginative, which is, like, the ideal person for this sort of thing." 

This is kind of meaningless, yes. But it's positive. And I have no issue with meaningless positivity. 

Example

My 2nd trick, most recently was the 10% Peek which is simply my version of a peek of a chosen card.

Steps Five and Six

At this stage I like to do a couple of tricks in the Distracted Artist style. That is, tricks that are seemingly happening without me intending them to. 

This further screws with their concept of how tricks work. Notice I'm not trying to convince them it's not a trick. I'm just trying to play with their notion of the nature of magic methods. Could you have spent so much time practicing vanishing a coin in your youth that now you sometimes accidentally vanish a coin? That doesn't seem likely with most people's understanding of how these sorts of things work. But that's exactly what I'm trying to imply to them: Don't get all hung up on how a trick is being done. You have no idea how this stuff works in even a general sense. So don't get worked up about the particulars.

In fact, the Distracted Artist thing is a kind of outlandish concept, and if it was presented as a trick it would be easy to dismiss. But when you don't make a big deal about it—maybe you're even a little annoyed or embarrassed by it—and you let the moment pass with very little fanfare, the whole thing becomes harder to reject completely.

The thought process I'm trying to instigate in the person is, (with a coin vanish, for example), "Well, I know he didn't 'accidentally' vanish it into the ether. But... it doesn't seem like you could accidentally do sleight of hand either (from what I understand). So maybe there's something else going on here that I can't quite wrap my head around. Maybe he was just pretending it was an accident? But... to what end? If you wanted to perform a trick you'd ask for people's attention, not just let it happen. Right?"

Example

Most recently for this stage I vanished a pen (apparently unintentionally), and balanced coins on top of each other (apparently absentmindedly).

Step Seven

Next I do an Engagement Ceremony style trick (remember, there's a glossary in the sidebar).

This gets people used to two things:

1. Longer tricks. This style will often go on for 10-15 minutes.

2. Me showing them things that I'm not taking credit for. 

Both of these are things a spectator is not used to seeing from someone performing a trick for them, and they're both things that are foundational elements in many of the immersive tricks I perform, so this is a good introduction to them.

At the same time, the process of the trick is not so different from a typical magic trick. So I’m slowly easing the person away from their preconceived notions.

Example

Most recently the trick I performed at this step was Good St. Anthony from The JAMM #5.

Step Eight

In step eight I do a short-ish (three minutes or so), Reverse Disclaimer type of trick. "Reverse Disclaimer" is a term I haven't used in a while. It just means this... If I tell you I'm going to read your mind or predict the future, those are abilities people have actually claimed in the real world. So I might give a disclaimer to say, "This is just a magic trick, etc. etc." A Reverse Disclaimer trick is a trick where what you're suggesting is so absurd, the claim itself acts as a disclaimer that it's not to be taken seriously. 

If I say, "I learned how to speak dog. I'm going to tell your dog how to find the card you selected." And then I start barking at the dog and he does apparently go and find the card, I don't have to follow that up with. "Just so you know. I don't really speak dog. That was a combination of magic, showmanship, psychology," blah, blah, blah. The claim itself lets everyone know they can relax because I'm just screwing around.

At the same time, the climax of the trick should be strong enough that for a moment they almost  buy into whatever insane thing you're telling them. But again, that's only based on the strength of the trick, not the believability of the premise.

This stage is meant to introduce the idea that we can all know something isn't true, but we can still enjoy it and allow ourselves to get swept up in it and that that can be a fun experience.

(By the way, the upcoming JAMM will go into more detail on the dog trick.)

Example

Sunlight Bumblelily from JAMM #4 is the one I most recently used at this stage.

Invisible Palm Aces is one I used to do a lot around this point as well. The premise—that I'm absorbing the aces into my palms—is obviously ludicrous and not intended to be believed. But if you do the trick well, it can feel awfully real.

Step Nine

At this point people are kind of primed for anything. I've started them off with simple, easily digestible tricks. I've acclimated them to: messing around with their understanding of method, shifting the focus off me as the magician, engaging in tricks that require an investment of their time, allowing themselves to go along with a trick regardless of how ridiculous the premise.

Combine that with strong magic done with an audience-centric approach, where they understand this isn't about demonstrating how great I am, but it's about our interaction and generating these moments just for our enjoyment and not expecting something in return. Then, I've found, you can really lead people to go along with pretty much anything.

Example

I approached my friend and said, "Hey... this is going to sound crazy, but did you know there's a psychic ghost dog at America's largest pet cemetery?" And with that we were off on a little afternoon road-trip.

Could I have gotten her to join in on such a thing that first night? No. I would have seemed like a sociopath. Even half-way through this process I don't think the groundwork would have been laid sufficiently. But after the weeks, or even months, it takes to go through the full set of steps, I think you can build up the trust, and get people in the right headspace, for them to be on board with almost any kind of experience.

One final thing. Once I get people to this final stage that doesn't mean that I only show them long-form, immersive tricks. In fact I tend to kind of loop back around and start all over again from the beginning. The structure becomes very loose at that point. I just try to keep up the variation in styles and experiences because I think that's what makes it enjoyable long-term for me and them.