When I was a child I wanted to be a trapeze artist in a circus. Then I wanted to be an astronaut. Then a doctor. I know I wanted to be a teacher too. And then a vet. For a while being a palaeontologist was surely in my future. And then one day I discovered with storytelling I could be all of these all the time and more.
The circus has always captivated me, even as my mind wandered, but in recent days something has been sparked again. Dazzling. Spectacular. Magical. Maybe some part of me still wants to run away to be a perform on the aerial hoop even now. Even knowing my complete lack of coordination in almost every physical thing I do. Some part of me thinks I’d be good at it.
The storyteller in me can’t get enough of the energy that exists in acrobatic and daring performances. Deep down I know that’s the magic I feel from performances.
I think I’ve read every circus novel there is to read at this point, trying to recreate that feeling I had when I was younger.
The desire to capture that feeling makes me think I have a circus novel in me yet, waiting to bubble to the surface. Something deeply magical and unique, whatever it is. Something that captures the magic I know exists in the world.
I can’t necessarily be a trapeze artist as a twenty seven year old with no prior experience but I know I can tell a story about one and their stunt-riding foot-juggling fire-breathing friends that helps me understand the magic of the circus again.