Sorcery & Cecelia; or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot was really fun to read. But the thing I love most about the book is that it was written by two women as a Letter Game that got a bit out of hand.
If you don’t know the letter game: basically you correspond with one or more other people as fictional characters. BUT you don’t talk about the plot, so your characters simply have to respond to the cues given to you by the other person and vice-versa. Sounds like a hotbed for all sorts of tangential delights, no?
And it’s made me remember, viscerally, playing the game as a kid. I literally remember the excitement I felt at the infinite possibilities – or maybe over-excitement would be more accurate – as a kind of metallic pulse in the back of my throat.
We mostly played this game at age 11, so the story lines were Sweet Valley High regurgitated. Angst. Boys. Eating disorders. Divorced parents. Though I have a distinct image of a boy riding a giant rat along a stormy coastline – a rogue fantasy off-shoot?
Man, I could have gone on all day. Usually, whoever I was playing with became bored and gave up, and I hated that, because my characters were only just starting.
So my question is: Do you remember how writing felt back when there was no question of it being possible, it was just a question of how fast you could fill a notebook with your big, awkward words?