When I was growing up, the teachers would divide us into different groups depending on students’ reading levels. Even though they called them “bluebirds,” “redbirds,” and “yellowbirds,” we students weren’t fooled. We knew the bluebirds read better and the yellowbirds struggled more.
My character Wilhelmina Quigley is a yellowbird—only her problem isn’t with reading. Her magic doesn’t work right. Other students are able to light candles, transform objects, and fly on their brooms alone. Most of the time, her spells don’t work at all. When they do, the result is disastrous. That’s when she is sent to the remedial magic class, where the story begins. And she’s the only witch in the class.
After she set the classroom on fire, the principal wants to expel her and the witchs’ council wants to take whatever magic she has away. Her grandmother, however, has another idea: send her to live in the ordinary world of nonmagical humans to live with her non-magical mother. Wilhelmina reluctantly agrees to do so, hoping to carve herself a place in that world where she’s no longer a misfit.
Her life in the magical world, however, has left her unprepared for what she encounters in the ordinary world. Her attempts to adjust lead to some interesting moments—like looking for the incantation to be recited when doing a chemical experiment. And there’s the problem of her magic. It’s not that she has none. It just comes out at inappropriate times, leading to some very awkward moments.
Most people can relate to Wilhelmina’s predicament of trying to navigate unknown waters, even without magic being involved. Having lived abroad, I have some very interesting examples. When I learned what I thought was the word for “thank you,” I kept telling people “Placebo.” (It’s “spacibo,” but don’t you think they sound similar?) I was almost run over the first time I tried to cross a street in Mexico because I didn’t know that a stop sign meant nothing to drivers there, but in Paris, if you simply put your foot beyond a curb, you could make cars screech to a halt (I had some fun with that one!).
The good news is that a fish out of water can learn to swim in new waters. Wilhelmina adjusts over time as I did. I corrected my Russian response, and I learned to be very careful crossing the street in Mexico. I have to admit, getting cars to screech to a halt in Paris never got old.
What about you? Any good examples from your life when you were a fish out of water?
P.S.You can buy Wilhelmina’s story from any of these booksellers: books2read.com/Magic-School-Dropout
Website: www.liesesherwoodfabre.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/liese.sherwoodfabre
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lsfabre
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Liese-Sherwood-Fabre/e/B00810INE6
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5758587.Liese_Sherwood_Fabre
Leave a Comment