If you look through my list of 60 favorite books to read this year, you'll notice there's a heavy contingent of what gets categorized as "fantasy"–Tolkien, Harry Potter, Alice in Wonderland, you get the idea.
But the fact is that most of what gets put in this category doesn't interest me at all because my real interest is magic, the changing of consciousness. I seek out those moments when I am lifted out of myself, when the outside walls of my physical body dissolve and I move inside another world, one that I'm making in conjunction with the artist. I wait for those moments during a good movie or play or concert when I'm not here any more but transported.
That's what I look for in good fiction as well, magic, a change in consciousness. And traveling with Hazel and Fiver and Bigwig and all the rest of the rabbits in Richard Adams' incredible book, Watership Down, is an act of magic.
Aaaah.
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