Here’s a compositional secret.  It’s so obvious and simple, you’ll say to yourself, “This man is bullshitting me.”  I am not.  This is one of the most fundamental things in all theatrical movie composition and yet magicians know nothing of it.  Ready?

Surprise me.

That’s it.  Place 2 and 2 right in front of my nose, but make me think I’m seeing 5.  Then reveal the truth, 4!, and surprise me.

(…)

Here’s how surprise works.  While holding my attention, you withold basic plot information.  Feed it to me little by little.  Make me try and figure out what’s going on.  Tease me in one direction.  Throw in a false ending.  Then turn it around and flip me over.

(…)

Read Rouald Dahl.  Watch the old Alfred Hitchcock episodes.  Surprise.  Withold information.  Make them say, “What the hell’s he up to?  Where’s this going to go?” and don’t give them a clue where it’s going.  And when it finally gets there, let it land.  An ending.

(…)

Love something besides magic, in the arts.  Get inspired by a particular poet, film-maker, sculptor, composer.  You will never be the first Brian Allen Brushwood of magic if you want to be Penn & Teller.  But if you want to be, say, the Salvador Dali of magic, we’ll THERE’S an opening.

I should be a film editor.  I’m a magician.  And if I’m good, it’s because I should be a film editor.  Bach should have written opera or plays.  But instead, he worked in eighteenth-century counterpoint.  That’s why his counterpoints have so much more point than other contrapuntalists.  They have passion and plot.  Shakespeare, on the other hand, should have been a musician, writing counterpoint.  That’s why his plays stand out from the others through their plot and music.

via @johntunger

Great thoughts. My version:

1. Forget about getting rich and famous. Get a day job.
2. Start a blog/website and give your art away. Teach people. Share your secrets. Give away the game. Be easy to find. Get fans through your generosity.
3. Sell those fans tangible products, or “content souvenirs”, like t-shirts, posters, deluxe edition LPs, etc.

Some might be a little surprised by this, but I used to play a lot of golf with my dad. He gave me the same advice:

When I was young, maybe 6 or 7 years old, I’d play on the Navy golf course with my pop. My dad would say, “Okay, where do you want to hit the ball?” I’d pick a spot and say I want to hit it there. He’d shrug and say, “Fine, then figure out how to do it.” He didn’t position my arm, adjust my feet, or change my thinking. He just said go ahead and hit the darn ball. My dad’s advice to me was to simplify. He knew that at my age I couldn’t digest all of golf’s intricacies. He kept it simple: If you want to hit the ball to a particular spot, figure out a way to do it. Even today, when I’m struggling with my game, I can still hear him say, “Pick a spot and just hit it.” When I’m making adjustments during a round, I know some of the television commentators theorize that I’m changing this or moving that, but really what I’m doing is listening to Pop.

Advice from 130 years ago isn’t much different from today:

• Pick a vocation that suits your personality
• Pick a good place to live that suits that vocation
• Avoid Debt
• Stick with it, work hard
• Be systematic — have a routine
• Read and Learn constantly
• Be polite and kind and charitable
• Keep your mouth shut
• Preserve your integrity