The Juxe: Boy/Girl Vocals

I’ve always been a sucker for boy/girl co-lead vocals. It’s a quick way to my heart, musically. Here are a few of my favorites.

Proofs by Mates of State (Lawrence, Kansas)

I love this song. Boy/Girl counterpoint vocals that are just perfect. That opening “Yeah!!!” kicks. The Japanese group Chatmonchy did a really great cover too.


Just To Make Me Feel Good by Adam Green and Binki Shapiro

Adam and Binki have a real Nancy Sinatra/Lee Hazelwood thing going on here.


You’re Gonna Fall Back Into It, By I Will Always Love You by Wolfie (Champaign-Urbana, Illinois)

From a Pitchfork write-up of the band:

These four kids play like they think they're out-rocking AC/DC-- with cheapy instruments in a mid-Illinois garage. They're also just bursting with joy, from the boy/girl vocals (chirpy deadpan versus bratty drawl) to the keyboard leads and tambourine-shaking buildups. Something in the combination of carefree melody, garage-pure setup, and hyper-energetic "rock"-- along with this combo's sharp songwriting skills-- make this stuff a revelation, for whatever tiny portion of listeners "gets" it.

Mailbag #27

Is there any salvaging this trick? —EC

The link in the email went to a re-release of a trick called Bolted. Where you bring out (supposedly) a souvenir card in a case like this…

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And then the spectator’s signed card switches places with the card in the case. So the premise is Signed Card to Impossible(ly Stupid) Location.

What exactly would be the purpose of a protective case for a card that puts two bolts through the middle of it? On what planet does that make sense? Is that the premise of the trick? That you’ve transported your spectator to a planet of morons?

It would be like buying a vinyl protective cover for your 1957 Chevy which you have to staple onto the car.

It makes no logical sense. However, if, at the end, they could unbolt the frame and remove the card (which is what any human would want to do) then I could probably still come up with a reason for the frame. But the spectator can’t do that. So no, the trick isn’t salvageable in my opinion.

Okay, okay… if I had to perform this trick, I’d have a card selected and signed. Then I’d say, “I’m going to make your card vanish and reappear, but because of where it’s going, I have to do this first…,” And I’d carefully tear out a couple of holes in the card (in the areas where the bolts would be). Then have the card vanish and reappear in the frame.

In that way, at least, you’d be creating some intrigue about the purpose of your actions. “Why is he tearing the holes?” “What does he mean, ‘Because of where it’s going’?” Then, when the frame is revealed, it’s not just a card to impossible location, it also give them an “answer” to the minor mystery.

In fact, here’s what I’d probably do. I’d do card to wallet. Then I’d say something like, “I’ve been performing this trick for a long time. The unfortunate part is—you saw my hands were empty when they went in my pocket, and you saw how fairly I removed the card from the wallet—and yet despite that you will still go home tonight and the logical part of your mind will think, ‘He must have just snuck the card into the wallet at some point when I wasn’t paying close enough attention.’ The idea that the card really vanished from the deck and really appeared in the wallet is just too unbelievable.”

As I say this I’d be tearing the holes out.

“So to prove it to you, I’m going to vanish it and make it reappear again. But this time, somewhere where I couldn’t possibly just ‘sneak’ it quickly. Now, because of where it’s going to go, I have to do this first.”

And take it from there.

In this way, you’d sort of be justifying the oddness of the frame. The idea being that you had to resort to making this thing to prove to people the card was actually vanishing and reappearing somewhere else.

The one thing you absolutely can’t do is suggest it’s a frame for something you want to protect. That’s beyond insane.

I think tearing the holes adds a little smoke to the proceedings. It goes further to suggest a card that’s not just sandwiched between two things, but enclosed and linked into the frame.

But still, the fact that the person can’t undo the apparatus to remove their card makes the thing a no-go for me. When it comes to magic props, I want something normal looking that is examinable. But I can still work with something strange as long as it’s examinable, or something unexaminable so long as it looks like a normal object. What I can’t use (and really no magician should bother with) is something strange and unexaminable.


Re: Tuesday’s post, Stumble. Pause. Answer.

I'd add something else to what's been said.

The answer itself shouldn't be too long, since you haven't really thought it through that much, and all through the answer you should be giving the impression that you're not sure that it *is* the answer. And then just continue on, to put that whole thing into a parentheses, as if it's just an aside, of lesser importance to the task at hand.

So I would amend your example answer to something more like:

"Hmm...Uh... I don't know really. I've always done it that way. (implying: I'm just as clueless as you) Uh...I guess maybe I don't want you to think I'm playing the odds? Maybe I just want to get to the pure mindreading experience? I'm not sure. Anyway, concentrate on your card..." —JS

I know where you’re coming from—and in some circumstances that is the way to go—but I was getting at something somewhat different in that post.

What you’re suggesting here is a very natural way to reply to a question. But it doesn’t really gain you anything with the spectator. Instead of Stumble-Pause-Answer, it’s essentially Stumble-Pause-Guess.

If I’m doing a trick where the conceit is that I don’t really know what’s going on (which is something I do a lot), then Stumble-Pause-Guess is a fine way to reply to a question. It’s very consistent.

But, what I’m looking to do with the Stumble-Pause-Answer technique is capitalize on the inconsistency of a stumble, followed soon after with a somewhat cogent/logical answer.

In what situations in real life would you not answer immediately and then come back moments later with a clear response? I think that has the hallmarks of saying something that’s true, but it’s just something you hadn’t given much thought to in a while.

Like, let’s say you asked someone, “How did your daughter get into horseback riding?”

They might say, “Oh… I don’t know. She’s just been doing it for… a long time now… [Pause] Oh, actually, it was her former babysitter who used to ride years ago, and that sort of lit the spark. She adored that babysitter and wanted to be just like her. And when she turned 8 she had her birthday party at the stables, and since then it’s just been her passion.”

That’s a very clean, clear-cut, detailed answer, but it doesn’t seem out of place after an initial stumble and pause. You can sense that it just took the person a moment to put the pieces together in their head. There’s a flow to that sort of answer that I like, and that I think comes across as natural. If someone gives you a response that sounds simultaneously unplanned and logical, that’s going to feel legitimate.

That’s what I’m aiming for. And to be clear, with my style of performance, I’m trying for a feeling not to actually convince anyone of anything. And that will depend on my ability to deliver a clear answer in a manner which doesn’t sound scripted. You want (or at least I want) social magic to have the flow of a real conversation, so they’re continually getting caught up in it and have to remind themselves that we’re talking about something that can’t possibly be real.

To simplify the advice in the previous post: For the amateur performer, in situations where you do give an answer to questions about process/procedure, it’s often best to stumble into the answer.

That will suggest that whatever they’re questioning—which is probably 100% required for the trick to work and is the only thing that’s going to allow you to pull off this miracle—is actually something you haven’t really given much thought to.


Joshua Jay sent me the following image. No, I had nothing to do with it, and I don’t know who did. Although I do appreciate that I’ve apparently created a whole cottage industry of people doing their own freelance Josh/Andi erotic fan-fiction.

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Mystery Card

Here’s a little mystery you might be able to help solve. Reader, Carl W’s friend’s grandfather was a police officer who dies in the 1930’s in a shootout with some bank robbers. Which is how I imagine most police officers in the 1930s dying. That or this.

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In his wallet they found this card. But no one seems to know what it means.

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Do you have any idea? I’ll give a prize to the first one who gives me an accurate answer. What will the prize be? I don’t know. Let’s say it’s $2. That way you can only be pleasantly surprised with whatever you get beyond that.

Now, while it looks like it might be something fun and mysterious, there’s also a chance it’s a Ku Klux Klan membership card. And no, I’m not kidding about that. At least that’s the suspicion some people have. Although I’m not sure if that’s based on anything other than the fact that it was found in the wallet of some guy in the 1930s. Wallets used to come with a special slot for your KKK membership card back then.

It’s obviously something strange—it’s not something that you get punched 10 times for a free sub sandwich—but what is it? If you have any insight, please send it my way and I’ll pass it along.

It does remind me of those “pocket mentalism” cards that people sell. I’ve never been a huge fan of those, because—despite what they might be dressed up as—they very often look like a prop for a magic trick. However, if you had something that looked old and weathered and you said, “We found this in my grandfather’s wallet after he died. I carried it around with me for years before realizing something strange about it…,” that could be a cool presentation. Perhaps I’ll work on that.

[Update: So far the most common guess is that the boxes represent some sort of gestures. For example, second column, in second box down: wipe brow, pinch left ear (with words written incorrectly as well as backwards). One guess that has come up a few times is that these gestures might be baseball signs. But I can almost guarantee they’re not that. (Although I’ll double the prize to 4 whole dollars, if that turns out to be the case.) When you see a third-base coach giving signs, they look complicated, but they’re not. They just bury the signals in a lot of decoy movements. You would never have signs so convoluted that you needed this sort of card to keep track of them. And we know what the signs in baseball represent (steal, bunt, take, hit and run, delayed steal, etc.). We should be able to find them in some form on this card. It wouldn't make sense to have a card of gestures without indicating what they mean, even if that’s coded too. But more importantly, how big is this baseball team that you’re printing up specially made cards in the 1930s? You got 25 guys on the team. You’d just have them write the signs down and take five minutes to learn them. You wouldn’t go to Ye Olde Vistaprint.]

Dustings of Woofle #26

There’s a new trick coming out called Initial Shock.

On Vanishing Inc., the ad copy says:

“Powerful, visual magic that ends in a unique souvenir your spectators are sure to keep and cherish forever!”

Wow! That sounds awesome! I wonder what this “unique” souvenir that the spectators are going “cherish forever” is? It must be something really special. Let’s see… if I had to guess… hmmm… I’d say it’s a small hand-painted pewter sculpture of the spectator’s first pet. No, that’s too prosaic. Unless they really loved the animal they probably would only cherish that for a few years, not “forever.” So maybe it leaves them with a short audio recording of their most beloved deceased relative sending them a message of love from the afterlife (and revealing which European country they’re thinking of). That’s probably something more like it. Something they would definitely cherish.

Hold on, let me read the ad a bit further to see what it is.

Oh, here it is.

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It’s a playing card with their initials on it. How wonderful.


Joshua Jay has an interesting new project for younger kids.

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Here’s part of the ad copy:

The book itself is a "magic" mailbox that lives on the child's nightstand. Every night before bed a letter "appears" inside the mailbox teaching the reader about a fascinating place around the world (thirty letters are included in total). The letters contain cultural information, geography lessons, and of course, a little magic. Magic Mail includes a giant fold-out map so that the reader can tick off the places they've "visited" through this magic mailbox.

To be clear, there’s no real “magic” here. You, the parent, would have to slip the letter in at some point so it will be there when you look at night. But still, for $20, I think it could be a fun thing for the right kid. And definitely better than reading the same dumb book to them every night.

Josh has encouraged kids to write him back when they reach the end of the month-long project. He’s posted some of those letters on his Instagram. It’s great to see everyone having a lot of fun with this.

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I used to think the perception of magicians as losers was a more modern day phenomenon. But then I was watching The Lady Eve, from 1941, and they make a big point early in the movie of explaining that Henry Fonda’s character is kind of a dork because he does card tricks.

Here’s Barbara Stanwyck, early in the film, describing her ideal mate.

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Naturally.

Stumble. Pause. Answer.

In my post on March 2nd, I wrote about justifying selections. Specifically in the case of a mentalism trick where having someone select something might not make much sense. Think of a standard “pick a card and I’ll tell you what card you’re thinking of” trick. What’s the purpose of the selection? If you’re reading their mind, why not just have them think of a card in the first place?

If a spectator were to question that, my response, as I wrote in that post, would be along these lines:

Them: “Why do I have to choose a playing card? Why can’t I just think of one?”

Me: “Hmm… okay. I think I see what you’re getting at. I suppose what it comes down to is the difference between asking myself, ‘What card is she thinking of?’ vs, ‘What card would someone like her be likely to think of?’ When you actually pick a card at random, I can just focus on the thought itself. But if I asked you to imagine a card, then it becomes less of a process of thought transmission and more of an exercise in personality assessment or a guessing game based on statistics. That’s not really the sort of thing I do.”

Pete McCabe wrote in to say,

Your answer is excellent, but when you explain why it works, I think you may have left out a key part. It’s in the first sentence:

“Hmm… okay. I think I see what you’re getting at.”

I think it’s valuable that when asked, you respond as if the question hadn’t occurred to you before. This is a bit subtle, and it’s exactly the kind of “acting” that many magicians are terrible at. But if you have a pat answer to this, it makes it seem like a pre-planned performance/trick, as opposed to something happening organically in the moment. Plus, if you’re ready for that question, maybe it’s part of the secret.

Not a huge point, maybe, but useful, I thought.

It’s a good point, and one that I didn’t stress enough in the original post. It’s actually a good way to handle many of the questions you’re asked by a spectator, not just the one I was addressing.

For the amateur, I think it’s good to anticipate the questions and challenges a spectator might come up with, but when they do come up, it’s best for your attitude to suggest, “Oh, I hadn’t really thought of that before.”

There is something that feels very right (very real, very truthful) when you seem to not have an explanation, followed relatively quickly by an answer that makes some sort of logical sense.

If you answer too quickly, that feels like you were planning to have to cover for this issue.

If you don’t answer at all, or only come back with an answer later on, it suggests that you had to create an answer.

Imagine you’re a detective interrogating a murder.

“Where were you last Friday eveni—”

I WAS AT MY DAUGHTER’S DANCE RECITAL AND THEN I GOT A MEAL AT BURGER KING AT 9:36 PM! I HAVE MY CREDIT CARD RECEIPT RIGHT HERE.”

You would think, “That’s someone who knew he had to cover for something, and planned and rehearsed his answer. There’s something sketchy about that."

Now imagine this interaction.

“Where were you last Friday evening?

“I have no idea.”

Then six weeks later the guy says, “I was at my daughter’s dance recital and then I went to Burger King. Here is a receipt to prove it.”

You might think, “Well, that makes sense, but the guy had six weeks to fabricate this alibi. If it’s true, why did it take so long?”

Finally imagine this exchange.

“Where were you last Friday evening?”

“Friday? Hmm… honestly I’m not sure. Usually I’m home on Friday nights. But I can’t say for certain. Oh wait… Last Friday was my daughter’s dance recital. I was there until… I guess 9 or so, and then we got something to eat at Burger King. The receipt might be in my car still.”

That’s likely going to have the ring of truth.

And that’s how I try to answer a lot of questions in magic because I feel like that’s how people answer questions in real life when they’re answering truthfully. And I want the interaction to have the illusion of truth, even when the spectator knows better.

The technique is simply: Stumble. Pause. Then answer.

Stumble - Say, “Hmm…,” or, “Huh, I don’t know,” or, “That’s a good question.”

Pause - Just a second or two. Not enough time that it feels like you’re concocting an answer, but enough time that it feels like the answer is dawning on you.

Answer - Slowly ramp up into your prepared answer.

Here’s why I think this works well…

If I ask you a question and you have an answer that seems sound and makes sense, then it is likely because of one of these two reasons:

  1. You’ve given this some thought and planned to answer this question.

  2. You’re just stating something true. And truth should seem sound and make sense.

Now, by stumbling when the question first comes up, you’re taking #1 off the table. So when you do have a sound answer it’s going to feel like #2. Meaning it will have the flow of someone expressing something true, even if what’s being stated is preposterous.

Morning Pages

Imagine

Stacie, my first houseguest in months comes over to get some dinner and watch a movie. The dinner is Thai food (pretty decent). The movie is The Lovebirds on Netflix (pretty funny—better than I expected).

After dinner I ask for her help with a trick I’ve been working on. Stacie is someone I’ve only known since earlier this year and she’s only seen me perform a couple things in that time.

I give her a deck of cards, have her shuffle it, and then cut it into four piles.

“Okay,” I say, “So there’s a pretty famous trick where the magician is able to cut to the four aces. Now, I thought—how cool would it be—if I could make the someone else cut to the four aces. So that’s a trick I’ve been working on for a few months now.”

(I figure it’s much more exciting for someone to feel like they’re taking part in something new, rather than something that has been honed by a million magicians before me. I don’t feel guilty for taking credit for the spectator cuts the aces plot. I’m doing it for the audience’s benefit. And, in this trick, it’s only a plot point, not the actual plot.)

“Let’s see how you did,” I say and gesture for her to turn over the top cards.

She turns over the 4 of Hearts, 9 of Clubs, Ace of Clubs, and 6 of Diamonds.

“Shit.”

“Well, I got one,” she says sweetly. Seemingly wanting me to feel better.

“Yeah… but I think that was just luck actually. The Ace of Clubs should have been in this pile if it worked like it was supposed to.”

“Four-Nine-Ace-Six,” I say, absentmindedly, like I’m just trying to make sense of what I I’m looking at, or what went wrong.

“Is 4 9 1 6 your lucky number by any chance? That would still be a good trick.”

“It could be,” she says. “Do people have lucky 4-digit numbers?”

“Wait, wait, wait…,” I say, shifting tone to something a bit more serious. “Look at it from this side, 6 Ace 9 4. 6 1 9 4. Isn’t that…?” I look at her expectantly, but she doesn’t say anything. I’m a little less certain now. “Isn’t that… aren’t those the last four digits of your phone number?”

“Ah! Yes!” she says. “I mean, no. But it’s close. It’s 6 1 4 9.

We sit with it for a moment. Is this sort of interesting? Is it not? Maybe it is. Or maybe if you cut to four cards you’re bound to find a number that means something to someone in some manner some of the time… especially if you allow for the numbers to not be in the exact right order. I think the general feeling was that it was mildly interesting, but not much more than that.

I put on my “thinking face,” furrowing my brow as if there’s something that’s not making sense to me. “I’m having such weird deja vu,” I say. “This feels familiar…,” I trail off.

It dawns on me.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Was that…? Oh man. Hold on. Actually… come with me.”

I take Stacie’s hand and pull her into my bedroom.

I pick up a notebook that is sitting on my night-stand.

“So, when the coronavirus started, a lot of people were having really crazy dreams. So I had the idea to keep track of any dreams I remembered when I woke up. It’s not that I think they’re interesting. Not to anyone else, at least. It was just a thing to do.” I say this as I’m flipping through the book.

“I think… I mean, I’m not really sure because I write them down just after I wake up and then they’re pretty much gone, but I think…. Wait… yes… here it is.” As I say this, I walk with her back to the living room and the cards she cut earlier.

I hand her the book and she reads the entry on the page.

Tonight I dreamt that Stacie K came over for dinner and a movie.
The movie was a comedy. I’m not sure what we ate. She was in a
red blouse or shirt. After dinner I showed her the ace cutting trick
I’ve been working on. But she only found the Ace of Clubs. Then
we realized if we flipped the nine of clubs and the four of hearts it
would have been the last four digits of her phone number. We
couldn’t figure out if that meant anything. But something about
it felt familiar to me.

We look down at the cards again.

What in the fuck…” she whispers.

Method

This is so much fun.

I don’t share too many of my own polished effects/presentations on the site these days. I save those for the annual supporter’s reward book. But I thought I’d share this one (for a little while, this post will disappear at some point in the future) because it was borne out of someone’s submission to a contest I had on the site a couple months ago.

People who’ve read my work for a while will recognize this as just another dressing up for Spectator Cuts the Aces. I’ve written about this trick in the past, and also in general about the value of “blank slate” effects (effects that can easily be recontextualized).

You don’t have to use Spectator Cuts the Aces. You can slide in any sort of trick that ends with a known outcome. Mainly the idea I want to share is about burying a prediction in a dream journal. (I’m going to provide you with a very simple way to do this later in the post.)

I’m very happy with the nature of the prediction as outlined in the performance described above. My first inclination was, perhaps obviously, to have them cut to four cards and then have those exact four cards predicted in my dream journal. But something about that felt just a little too clean. Would I really remember four random cards upon waking up if there was nothing noticeable about them? By having the almost match of the phone-number, I get to actually name (or suggest) the value of all four cards, and the suits of three of them in the dream journal, without it feeling like I was noting the cards specifically so I could reference them later. And the almost match of the phone number feels like something that would be more likely to jog my memory of this forgotten dream than just seeing four random cards.

I also wanted to add some other subtle predictions in the write-up, but not go overboard with it. I could have said, “Stacie came over. She was wearing a red shirt and black shorts. She commented that she liked the color of my Artisan stand mixer. She ordered the pineapple fried rice. [Etc., etc.]” I could have just written that in earlier in the night (as I did write in the color of her top earlier that evening), but I chose not to. I just wanted to hint at the idea that perhaps there was even more in the dream that was accurate, but I just didn’t remember it or write it down when I awoke.

The idea for this presentation came to me after the Better with Weber contest a few months ago. That contest asked people to identify a goal they wanted to achieve for the month of April. Supporter, Lucas Jarche, wrote in to say his goal was to write down his dreams every morning. The next month, when the Better with the Jerx contest asked people to supply the proof of what they achieved in April, Lucas sent along a document describing his dreams from the previous month.

I immediately saw the potential for a strong presentation here. What if we buried a prediction somewhere in the journal?

Think of the difference between these two presentations.

1. “I had a dream last night that I performed a card trick for you. When I woke up, I wrote out that dream and I have it here on this piece of paper.”

2. Card trick happens. The ending reminds you of something. You go and get your dream journal and flip through it. “I swear I had a dream that was sort of like this.” Flip. Flip. Flip. “Huh… maybe I’m misremembering. I really thought… Wait! Here it is.”

The first way is sort of the standard magician’s way of paying lip-service to a potentially interesting premise.

The second version will go much further towards pulling the spectator into the world of the story.

Ideally, to perform this, you’ll actually create a dream journal. Either a real one that you keep for at least a month or so, or just one that you make up altogether over the course of a couple hours. The more entries you have, the better. I think it looks best with at least 60 or so. They don’t have to be long. Use different writing implements throughout the journal (there’s a reason for this). Leave a page blank near the middle.

The trick is personalized, but the prop is reusable. And that’s because I use a frixion pen to write the entry for the “prediction” dream. This is the reason for using different writing implements in the book, so it’s not just this one entry that looks a little different than all the others.

Don’t be lazy, it’s not that much work.

But, if you are a little lazy, I have another option for you.

Lucas Jarche is allowing me to share a file of his dream journal with you. So what you can do is go in and edit one of the entries so it consists of whatever prediction you need.

Then just print it out. It’s okay if the dream journal is done on a computer rather than hand-written (although it’s not as good). But either way it needs to be a physical copy that you show them for the reveal. If you just bring up a document on your computer or phone it will have significantly less impact. It’s not even really worth doing that way.

Here’s that document.

Again though, if you really want to make it as strong as possible, hand-write it in a bound journal. You want them to feel like: Well, he wouldn’t have gone to all the a trouble for just a magic trick, right? From their perspective you would have to remake the whole book to ever show the trick to someone else. (But due to the frixion pen, that’s not the case.)

You might wonder why I would act as if I’m surprised that it matches up with the dream journal, when theoretically, if I had dreamed it already, I should have been on guard against something like this happening when I performed this trick. The logic that I had in my head if I was questioned on that point was this: “I write in that book when I’m barely half-awake. I forget most of the details soon after. And because I do a lot of card tricks in real life, it’s not unusual for me to have dreams about them. They don’t really stand out when they happen.” But that wasn’t a logic leap my friend took, so I didn’t have to justify it in any way.

There it is. Thanks again to Lucas for allowing me to share his dream journal with you.

Also, if you have the charm to pull it off (I wouldn’t bet on it), you could put a description of a graphic sex dream between you and your spectator later in the book. Then, after the trick, you can be flipping through the book and be like, “Huh. Oh here’s another dream I had about you. Kind of interesting one. Especially now that I realize I’m having prophetic dreams.” Hand her the book and you’re off to the races.

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My Work-From-Home Set-Up

I’ve worked from home on and off for the last decade or so, but this is the first time I’ve done it for such an extended period of time. Since the coronavirus situation started, I’ve taken an interest in other people’s work-from-home set-ups. What is yours like? —HD

On a given work day (that includes Jerx work, other magic work, and other non-magic work), I spend an average of probably 4-6 hours writing. At some points in time, depending on how the projects I’m involved with fall out, those numbers can double.

I’m too antsy to sit at a desk for a long time doing the same thing. I work best with regular changes of scenery. Pre-coronavirus, this might take the form of working for 90 minutes at one coffee shop, going to the library for two hours of work, and then another 90 minute evening session at a different coffee shop.

When everything shut down, that obviously threw me off my game a bit. I tried to work at my main desk in my “office” space of my home, but it was a struggle for me. I felt more distracted than ever.

So—and this may sound dopey—I started creating numerous work stations throughout my house.

I currently have 10 areas where I do work.

Living Room:

1. Couch - I use this laptop table. I can slide the legs under the couch and pull the table in towards me and slouch back like a slob. Or I can do what I’m doing at this moment and actually write from a laying down position with the computer above me and tilted down.

2. Chair - A standard living room chair. I usually sit in it at a weird angle, like a teenage girl, with my legs over the arm of the chair. I guess like this but with a laptop where her cat is.

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3. Floor - I use one of these desks.

4. Exercise Bike Desk - This one.

5. Standing Desk - Same thing as above, I just stand on the opposite side from the bike.

Kitchen

6. Dining area table

Bathroom

7. Bathtub

Yup, sometimes I’m writing you buck-ass naked from the tub—cock and balls floating in a sea of bubbles. Those are probably your favorite posts. I use this bath tub desk. Yes, they make such things. From what I can gather, it’s primarily used by ladies to rest their wine, candles, and rose petals on while they bathe.

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Bedroom

8. Bed - I use the same desk I use on the floor to work on in bed as well.

Office

9. I have a standard computer desk set-up.

10. I also have a workbench style work station that I work at as well.

So now if I have six hours of work to do, I’ll generally do an hour in one location, then move somewhere else for an hour or so, and then just repeat that throughout the day. This tricks my brain enough so that it doesn’t feel like I’m just stuck in one place doing the same thing all day.

Thankfully, things near me are opening up more and more, so I have more options each week. But this was what worked for me for the past few months.