Hey everyone! My name is Brendan Spence. I'm 21 years old, and I've only been a magician for about eight months. This is my first post here on the T11 forums. I generally don't do a lot of posts on forums in general (a habit I am trying to break), but I feel that this review simply must be read by everyone. You'll understand me in due time. Forget who I am for the moment, I will introduce myself in the forums later. Just listen to my story.
In my card studies over the past few months I have stumbled across a veritable treasure trove of card magic. You all know it by name, whether in passing or as intimately as a forbidden lover. These hallowed texts are held in the highest reverence in the magic world, its sacred contents considered the quintessential dogma of card workers and their creed. Its name, by those who know its power, is spoken only in hushed tones, partly out of fear, but mostly out of respect.
I am, of course, talking about only one thing:
The Card College Series.
.. what, you thought I was gonna say Royal Road to Card Magic? Think again, and allow me to spin you a tale of fantasy and wonder, of trials and tribulations. Let me tell you about my journeys with Card College.
It all began with a Christmas morning, not too unlike any other Christmas morning. The white sheen of the fresh snow, the glittering of the Christmas tree in the early morning dusk, and, of course, hushed whispers and the sounds of tearing paper. My sisters and I had begun Operation Early Gift, a customary tradition in our family, and the clock had barely stuck 6:00 before we had already opened the vast majority of our presents. We may have been a bit old for the traditions of Santa (I being 21, my sisters being 16), but the whole thrill of waking up super early to see our gifts waiting vulnerably under the tree elicited a child-like joy in us. Like excited six-year-olds, we would try to unwrap the gifts as quickly and as quietly as possible, as if our parents DIDN’T know of our yearly living room espionage. And this year was quite a haul.
In a flurry of wrapping paper, I had unearthed a veritable treasure trove of magical goods. Funny T-shirts, cards upon cards, and a generous amount of DVDs were spread out across the floor in an impressive display. Being a magician of only eight months, these gifts represented a whole new world of advancement to me. I stared at my haul, barely able to take it all in. This was weeks, if not months of material. Eagerly, I snatched up the goods and ran back to my room, warming up the DVD player and ripping open a brand new deck of Ghosts. I locked the door and leaned close to the TV, like some sort of depraved drug addict getting a long-needed fix.
Just as my fingertips became lost in the sinewy smooth world of the Ghosts, there was a loud rapping at the door. I jumped up out of my seat, turning the TV off in a frantic pace, the Ghosts being quickly hidden in my side pocket. I leered at the door.
“Who is it!?” I whispered frantically, pressing my ear up against the door’s heavy wooden frame.
“It’s your sister,” a timid voice replied. “You forgot a present in the corner by the tree. It’s kinda big.”
My eyes bugged out, my hands swinging the door open before she could even finish her sentence. What I saw was a bit of a shock.
In my sister’s arms was a HUGE present, tall and thick, with awkward indentations and taping patterns in the sides of the wrapping paper indicating that it, in fact, was not one large box, but was instead several items haphazardly stacked and wrapped together. I took the parcel in my arms with a shocked expression. As my fingers traced the sides of the presents, I could feel the tell-tale give in the wrapping paper—these were books.
At first, I was disappointed. Being rather young and relatively new to the world of magic, I suffered the handicap of downright despising learning magic from books. I had once tried to thumb through classics like Expert at the Card Table and Bobo’s Modern Coin Magic only to find myself being put off by how old the books seemed, as well as the expansive and overwhelming amount of text over every single move. Add that to the slew of other, less than stellar magic books that plague the shelves of any magic section at Borders, and you could see why I had such a bias. You might even say I thought videos were the only way to go.
This initial disappointment, however, quickly faded. A glance to the gift tag told me that this present was either from a man who was recovering from a mild stroke, or my uncle. This was a man who, although he knew I was a fledgling magician, had an unusual knack for getting me the opposite of what I usually wanted. Thus, maybe these books weren’t magic related at all! Maybe they were a bunch of good novels, or some journals to write in or something. Still not great, but hey, you can’t win them all. My fingers began to peel, rip, and tear at the skin of the carefully prepared package.
And I found all five volumes of the Card College series staring back up at me. A note was taped haphazardly on the front of it, in equally abysmal handwriting. It read (to the best of my knowledge): “Brendan, a majishian told me to get you these. Hope you like them, and Menny Chrestmas!” Following it was a nigh incomprehensible signature. My disappointment surged like bile in my throat, but I bit it back with a large swallow, determined to make the best of this gracious gift. I thumbed through the first volume for about ten minutes, reading through the chapter on the overhand shuffle and likewise controls for it. This was something I actually was still particularly bad at, so I quickly became frustrated. I was slightly impressed at the detail that went into such a simple sleight, but I was going nowhere fast. A quick flip through the book gave me the impression that the rest of it was likewise all extremely simple sleights told in excruciating detail, as well as a few very simple, boring tricks. With the grace of an arrogant imbecile, I felt this book was far too simple for me, that my card magic was far beyond all this beginner’s stuff. I sighed, tossing the tomes on my bookshelf, promising myself I’d look over them later. After all, I had heard many in the E forums say that they heard they were good books. I turned to my TV and continued my magical education.
(Continued below)
In my card studies over the past few months I have stumbled across a veritable treasure trove of card magic. You all know it by name, whether in passing or as intimately as a forbidden lover. These hallowed texts are held in the highest reverence in the magic world, its sacred contents considered the quintessential dogma of card workers and their creed. Its name, by those who know its power, is spoken only in hushed tones, partly out of fear, but mostly out of respect.
I am, of course, talking about only one thing:
The Card College Series.
.. what, you thought I was gonna say Royal Road to Card Magic? Think again, and allow me to spin you a tale of fantasy and wonder, of trials and tribulations. Let me tell you about my journeys with Card College.
It all began with a Christmas morning, not too unlike any other Christmas morning. The white sheen of the fresh snow, the glittering of the Christmas tree in the early morning dusk, and, of course, hushed whispers and the sounds of tearing paper. My sisters and I had begun Operation Early Gift, a customary tradition in our family, and the clock had barely stuck 6:00 before we had already opened the vast majority of our presents. We may have been a bit old for the traditions of Santa (I being 21, my sisters being 16), but the whole thrill of waking up super early to see our gifts waiting vulnerably under the tree elicited a child-like joy in us. Like excited six-year-olds, we would try to unwrap the gifts as quickly and as quietly as possible, as if our parents DIDN’T know of our yearly living room espionage. And this year was quite a haul.
In a flurry of wrapping paper, I had unearthed a veritable treasure trove of magical goods. Funny T-shirts, cards upon cards, and a generous amount of DVDs were spread out across the floor in an impressive display. Being a magician of only eight months, these gifts represented a whole new world of advancement to me. I stared at my haul, barely able to take it all in. This was weeks, if not months of material. Eagerly, I snatched up the goods and ran back to my room, warming up the DVD player and ripping open a brand new deck of Ghosts. I locked the door and leaned close to the TV, like some sort of depraved drug addict getting a long-needed fix.
Just as my fingertips became lost in the sinewy smooth world of the Ghosts, there was a loud rapping at the door. I jumped up out of my seat, turning the TV off in a frantic pace, the Ghosts being quickly hidden in my side pocket. I leered at the door.
“Who is it!?” I whispered frantically, pressing my ear up against the door’s heavy wooden frame.
“It’s your sister,” a timid voice replied. “You forgot a present in the corner by the tree. It’s kinda big.”
My eyes bugged out, my hands swinging the door open before she could even finish her sentence. What I saw was a bit of a shock.
In my sister’s arms was a HUGE present, tall and thick, with awkward indentations and taping patterns in the sides of the wrapping paper indicating that it, in fact, was not one large box, but was instead several items haphazardly stacked and wrapped together. I took the parcel in my arms with a shocked expression. As my fingers traced the sides of the presents, I could feel the tell-tale give in the wrapping paper—these were books.
At first, I was disappointed. Being rather young and relatively new to the world of magic, I suffered the handicap of downright despising learning magic from books. I had once tried to thumb through classics like Expert at the Card Table and Bobo’s Modern Coin Magic only to find myself being put off by how old the books seemed, as well as the expansive and overwhelming amount of text over every single move. Add that to the slew of other, less than stellar magic books that plague the shelves of any magic section at Borders, and you could see why I had such a bias. You might even say I thought videos were the only way to go.
This initial disappointment, however, quickly faded. A glance to the gift tag told me that this present was either from a man who was recovering from a mild stroke, or my uncle. This was a man who, although he knew I was a fledgling magician, had an unusual knack for getting me the opposite of what I usually wanted. Thus, maybe these books weren’t magic related at all! Maybe they were a bunch of good novels, or some journals to write in or something. Still not great, but hey, you can’t win them all. My fingers began to peel, rip, and tear at the skin of the carefully prepared package.
And I found all five volumes of the Card College series staring back up at me. A note was taped haphazardly on the front of it, in equally abysmal handwriting. It read (to the best of my knowledge): “Brendan, a majishian told me to get you these. Hope you like them, and Menny Chrestmas!” Following it was a nigh incomprehensible signature. My disappointment surged like bile in my throat, but I bit it back with a large swallow, determined to make the best of this gracious gift. I thumbed through the first volume for about ten minutes, reading through the chapter on the overhand shuffle and likewise controls for it. This was something I actually was still particularly bad at, so I quickly became frustrated. I was slightly impressed at the detail that went into such a simple sleight, but I was going nowhere fast. A quick flip through the book gave me the impression that the rest of it was likewise all extremely simple sleights told in excruciating detail, as well as a few very simple, boring tricks. With the grace of an arrogant imbecile, I felt this book was far too simple for me, that my card magic was far beyond all this beginner’s stuff. I sighed, tossing the tomes on my bookshelf, promising myself I’d look over them later. After all, I had heard many in the E forums say that they heard they were good books. I turned to my TV and continued my magical education.
(Continued below)
