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Today, we’re going to take a look at a magic product that was first sold in 2002—over twenty years ago! It’s “Runaway Joker”, a card trick by Peter Nardi, the founder and owner of the UK-based magic shop Alakazam Magic. Alakazam still produce it, so this is one hidden gem you won’t have to hunt for on the expensive second-hand market.

Here’s what happens:

The deck is spread, showing nothing out of the ordinary. The Joker is removed and set on the table. A card is freely selected, and the spectator signs the face of it before cutting it back into the deck himself.

You pick up the Joker and give it a flick. The Joker and his bicycle vanish from the face of the card, leaving the border and the word JOKER behind. The now-empty card is tossed onto the table for examination.

So where did he go? You spread the deck face down and there he is, printed on the back of one of the cards. The card is turned over. It’s the signed selection.

Then one final flick, and the Joker is gone again, leaving your spectator with a clean signed card to keep.

You can watch Peter perform the trick below; the handling is a little different to what’s described above (a little better, in fact):

This is, essentially, Peter’s inventive approach to the Chicago Opener plot or, more accurately, Al Leech’s “A Hot Card Trick No. 1”, circa 1950. There are quite a lot of things I like about it.

The handling is efficient and doesn’t call for any particularly difficult sleight of hand; it uses Marc DeSouza’s Shapeshifter Change and a double turnover, and that’s about it. (Peter also uses a Top Change in the video demo above, but that’s an optional extra. You could also substitute a Twirl Change for the Shapeshifter Change if you have difficulty with that particular move.) More importantly, the Joker’s appearance on the back of the chosen card gives you an excuse to stop and let a spectator touch the ink (to make sure it’s dry and really printed onto the card). This moment makes the subsequent double turnover easier to execute in a relaxed, carefree manner, which is critical in this type of routine.

However, the best thing about “Runaway Joker” isn’t the handling; it’s what it does to the structural weaknesses of the Chicago Opener plot.

In “Spill the Tea: Is Chicago Opener a Good Trick?”, I set out three of them. Eugene Burger identified the first two: the double lift happens at the worst possible moment—when everyone is looking at the card—and the second phase teaches an observant spectator how the first phase works. I added a third of my own: the two cards are chosen inconsistently, and the second selection never feels as fair as the first.

“Runaway Joker” dispenses with that third weakness entirely. There’s only one selection. It’s free, it’s signed, and the spectator loses it himself by cutting it into the deck (incidentally, I wouldn’t bother having the card signed because I like the idea of presenting the whole sequence as a “surreal mirage”, with no evidence of the magic left behind). Pop Haydn engineered an elegant “subroutine” into his signature trick “Chicago Surprise” to solve this problem. Peter simply sidestepped it by not including a second card.

In the standard handling of Chicago Opener, the odd-backed card sits on the table, out in the open, like a blinking light leading people directly to the method, which is precisely why my advice is to pocket it and move on quickly to something else. Here, the trick tidies up after itself. The final vanish removes the incriminating evidence. Getting rid of the gaffed card isn’t something you have to hide—it’s the last magical beat of the routine.

Peter’s approach also answers Tom Stone’s objection (again, see “Spill the Tea: Is Chicago Opener a Good Trick?” for full details). Tom dislikes the “gotcha” element of Chicago Opener and its well-worn magician-in-trouble premise. “Runaway Joker” dispenses with this tired trope entirely. Nobody has lost anything, nobody is pretending to have failed, and the ending closes a loop rather than springing a trap.

Too often, when magicians perform the Chicago Opener, there is no rhyme or reason for the back of the card to change colour (beyond helping the magician locate the chosen card). In “Runaway Joker”, the Joker is doing exactly what you’d expect a Joker to do: misbehave!

Which brings me to my final reason for recommending the trick. I love tricks that use the Joker, and I have plenty in my repertoire that use one, two, three, and even four of them—you’ll find quite a few of them published on my blog. Because “Runaway Joker” begins and ends with an ordinary, examinable Joker, I can see all sorts of opportunities to use one of those other tricks as a lead-in to “Runaway Joker”.

I still don’t think Eugene Burger would have performed this routine. He eliminated every trick requiring a double lift or turnover from his working repertoire, and no amount of clever construction would have talked him round. The move is still there, at the moment of maximum attention, and although Peter delays it and lets the tension drain away first, the objection still stands. But of the three weaknesses mentioned, Peter’s trick answers one of Eugene’s outright, sidesteps mine completely, and also fixes Tom Stone’s main objection to the plot.

Not bad for a trick that’s older than some readers of the Ruseletter!

Yours Magically,

Marty

For the first time in weeks, we actually had rain, and the deck in my pocket got damp on one of my twice-weekly walks to work. (Luckily, it was an inexpensive Cartamundi deck printed in China that already had a kink in it.) I’ve lost several good decks this way, so I try not to carry expensive cards loose in my pocket, but sometimes there’s no alternative. It might be time to start keeping my decks—and other small magic props—in a small dry bag, the sort of thing hikers and kayakers use for their phones. I may even go all in and get a Pelican 1010 Micro Case (sold as Peli in the UK). These cases are watertight and crushproof, so they would double as a card clip/protector. Something to ponder as the weather turns wetter and colder in my part of the world. (The 1010 looks the perfect size for a couple of decks, one stacked atop the other.)

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This transitional time of year always impresses on me the importance of planning ahead. There are still four full months to work on my magic goals for the year—well, that’s what I keep telling myself as the year slips away from me! This month, I decided to refocus on the magic books I’ve been writing for ages (or, more accurately, not writing for ages). Part of the problem is that I have so many tricks, routines and ideas swirling around in my head that it’s difficult to decide which ones deserve to be included in a book. So I’ve spent some time settling on the contents of Great Magicians Grow Moustaches. To keep the project manageable, I’ve limited myself to fifty-four items—one for each card in the deck, plus two Jokers—each one listed and briefly described below.

Right, that’s enough rambling from me. Let’s get to the good stuff!

New on MBOT: Pasteboard Puppies

My friend Justin Higham diagnoses “Twisting the Aces” as a trick in need of a plot. After all these years and countless variations, nobody has given the reversals a good reason to happen. Eugene Burger arrived at the same verdict years earlier, dismissing it as a trick with no symbolic or emotional content. As much as I love Vernon’s classic small-packet effect, I think they’re both correct. What it has in abundance is economy of motion and visual surprise; what it lacks is a raison d’être.

So how do we keep what the trick does well—the economy of motion, the visual magic—while giving the reversals a reason to happen? Here’s my answer: the four Fours become four playful pups that roll over when told to. All except Shamrock, who holds out for walkies.

It’s my favourite way to present “Twisting the Aces”, and you can learn it on my blog.

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Dolly Parton Card Trick 🎼🦋🎶

I was saddened to learn of Dolly Parton’s death on 25 August. I’ve always admired her as an artist and a performer, not only for her talent as a singer-songwriter, but also for her humility, sense of humour, and, most importantly, her endless compassion and kindness.

Last year, I published the “Dolly Parton Card Trick” in Easy Does It #5. As this is an odd-numbered edition, it is behind the paywall. My friend John Montes suggested that now might be a good time to resurface the trick, in honour of the Queen of Country. So, I’ve made the article available to all:

Read Easy Does It #5: The Dolly Parton Card Trick 👈9️⃣⏰5️⃣💼☕💻

The routine is no grand miracle, just a humble self-working trick that, like Dolly herself, is unapologetically camp and kitsch! It is very easy to perform, so I encourage you to learn it and perform it, especially if you have people in your life who are country music lovers or Dolly Parton fans. Maybe it will cheer them up a little at this sad time.

Learn the Trick

Rest in peace, Dolly. The world will always love you. 🩷

Adiós, El Maestro 🎻✨🌈🃏

By now, you will probably have heard the sad news that Juan Tamariz has also died. Spain knew him as a television star, but to magicians, he was the author of The Five Points in Magic, The Magic Way, Sonata, Mnemonica, Verbal Magic and The Magic Rainbow, and one of the most influential thinkers our art has ever produced. Affectionately known as “El Maestro”, Tamariz died in Madrid on 18 August 2026, aged eighty-three. He rightly deserves all the posthumous plaudits he gets: he was a genius and will be remembered as a bona fide legend of magic.

My thoughts and condolences go to his wife, Consuelo; his three daughters, Mónica, Ana and Alicia; his son, Juan Diego; his large extended family; and his many friends across the globe.

Although I never met Tamariz, I was fortunate enough to see him lecture and perform at the 72nd British Ring IBM Convention in Eastbourne in 2008, and again in 2015 at The Session in Cheltenham. Long before either, though, the first time I saw him perform was in a repeat of his 1994 appearance on the NBC special The World’s Greatest Magic. I had no idea who that crazy magician in the purple top hat was, but I was certainly impressed by the magic he performed with a small toy car and a deck of cards; I later learned that this was one of his signature tricks called “El Cochecito”, his version of the “Koornwinder Kar” by Dutch magician Dick Koornwinder.

Here’s how Tamariz describes the nature of magic, giving you a taste of his personal philosophy of magic:

“An extremely complex art that demands control of fingers, hands, body, voice, eyes, words and psychology; an extremely beautiful art that speaks of myths and symbols (with the depth of play), that enchants and haunts and fascinates and excites every layer of the brain, that brings us headfirst into mystery, that speaks to us of desired dreams—that imitates, not the human being as does theater, not the interior rhythm as does music, not the trill of birds as does singing, not nature (landscapes, people, sensations) as do painting and sculpture, not dreams as do movies. Instead it imitates the power of the gods (no less): the fascinating total art of magic.”

— Juan Tamariz, The Magic Rainbow

Tamariz was full of chaotic energy when he performed, which concealed a total mastery of sleight of hand and an exceptional practical understanding of misdirection. But there wasn’t a superior bone in his body. Tamariz didn’t care if you weren’t the world’s most talented magician; he valued passion for the art above everything else (the first of his famous Seven Veils of Mystery).

In 2008, at Eastbourne, I remember him telling a heartfelt story about his son. Whenever Tamariz travelled, he brought Juan Diego back a spinning top, but he always made him wait until he was home before opening it, so that he could watch his son’s reaction to the toy. If I remember correctly, he suggested we do the same with our magic (or at least that was the point of him recounting the story). We should make sure we enjoy the reaction our magic elicits from our audience. Don’t start tidying up your props or resetting the trick; enjoy the moment with your audience.

Meet enough big-name magicians, and it becomes painfully clear that many of them love themselves more than they love their audiences. Not so with Tamariz. His performing persona was zany and larger-than-life, but he loved his audiences, and they loved him back. Rest in peace, El Maestro. ❤

Fold & Flip

One of my long-term ambitions is to develop an entire act that combines magic and origami. To this end, I recently discovered a fun paper magic trick (technically, a flexagon1) from the papercraft YouTuber Polina (Polly’s Origami). I immediately saw more magical potential in it than the video suggested, and after dismissing some obvious uses—such as a boring card reveal—I spent some time building a simple app (with Claude’s help) to better understand what might be possible if letters were used on the model.

The model has four panels but only ever shows three at a time. Fold and flip it, and each panel takes a turn at being hidden.

If you number the panels 1 to 4, as Polly does in the video tutorials, the sequence looks arbitrary. Label them A, B, C and D instead, and the magical potential of this thing becomes a little clearer:

Or, as a worked example: ABC → BCD → ADC → BAD.

Once the panels are letters rather than numbers, the paper toy’s algebraic nature becomes more obvious. Compare the first state with the last. The reveal is your opening word, with its first two letters swapped and the third—the letter C in this case—replaced. So you need to design backwards. You take the word you want to end on, swap its first two letters, and that gives you the first two letters of your opening word, leaving exactly one letter free to choose.

An interesting insight I discovered when chatting with Claude about the underlying mathematics is that you can treat Panel C as a “junk generator” because it appears in the first three states and never in the reveal. Put a wildcard consonant on that panel, such as X, Z, Q, J, K, V, and all three intermediate states turn to nonsense. The model effectively stays silent until the last fold and flip, which is what you want for a comedy prediction. Put a letter that makes the opener read as a word, and you get a joke instead, e.g., WTF → TFO → WOF → TWO, ESP → SPX → EXP → SEX or CAT → ATE → CET → ACE.

There are some obvious limitations. The model, like most simple flexagons of this nature, can’t completely change its initial state. Any two states share at least two panels, so the display can never wholly transform. This makes a card reveal impractical, as it is difficult to display both the suit and the value on a single model. Three visible squares mean you must force a three-letter card name, and only ACE, TWO, SIX and TEN qualify. The exceptions are cute rather than useful: the Tens fit as 1, 0 and H, and the Two of Hearts fits as T, W, ♥ if you’ll accept a Heart pip standing in for the O. Still, you might be able to find a better solution than I did.

Digits behave identically, so anything three characters long is available—a three-digit code, a house number, or a page reference in a book or magazine. It might also be possible to use the origami model as a four-way out in some kind of book test or confabulation routine. Something to think about, perhaps, especially if you like mental magic. 🤔

Graphics or symbols are also interesting. Because each panel is hidden exactly once per cycle, a single mark will vanish once every four folds, which is a small piece of magic on its own. I played around with the idea of a jumping frog on lily pads, three top hats, and a disappearing (and reappearing) rabbit—I think there might be potential in using it this way, especially as a cute promotional giveaway. 🐸🎩🐰

I think this little project represents good use of AI because although I can code things like this from scratch, using Claude made the process much faster and, if I’m being honest, the end result is far better than it would have been if I hadn’t. It has also enabled me to search for interesting patterns and combinations that would have been impossible to find manually (after all, Claude was able to read through the entire Collins dictionary database). Some of what came back I simply wouldn’t have established with a notebook, a pencil and an afternoon of free time. For example, it found these gems for me:

• NOW → OWE → NEW → ONE (the prettiest)

• CAP → APE → CEP → ACE (ends on a playing card value)

• And ABC is the only opener that reaches BAT (I’ve developed this one into a fun trick with origami animals using Roy Baker’s PATEO Force) 🦇

My overriding thought on “Fold & Flip” is that it could be used as a unique prediction effect alongside a word force from a book (or a list of three-letter words). But I’m publishing this as a rough draft before I’ve finished with it, because I suspect there are uses I haven’t thought of or discovered, and I’m curious to see if you can come up with anything better.

I also thought some of you might enjoy playing around with the app itself, so I’ve uploaded it to my profile on Itch.io (a place where you can host games and apps for free).

Fold & Flip App

If you find something I’ve missed, I’d love to hear about it.

Great Magicians Grow Moustaches & Other Curious Card Tricks 🥸

And finally, here’s the big list of items that I plan to include in my first proper magic book, Great Magicians Grow Moustaches and Other Curious Card Tricks. Thirty-five of the fifty-four items will be brand-new, previously unpublished material. In other words, if you’re a regular reader of the Ruseletter and Marty’s Bag of Tricks, 65% of the stuff in the book will be new to you. The old material will also be thoroughly updated, and every item will be carefully explained, with plenty of hand-drawn diagrams to make learning as easy and painless as possible.

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Remember, paid subscribers to the Ruseletter will get access to the draft as I write it, and will be able to download the ebook free of charge once I’ve finished it.

Here’s the list:

1. Deja Voodoo* – Using “Hollywood Voodoo” or “sympathetic magic”, the mates of two chosen cards mysteriously turn face up in the pack. (Used as a good demonstration of how to perform the Christ Force without a double-backer.) 🎩💀🃏

2. Sight Beyond Sight* – With a little help from Lion-O (the King of Hearts), you use the power of “sight beyond sight” to determine the identity of three randomly selected cards. Inspired by the clairvoyant Sword of Omens from the 1980s animated TV show ThunderCats! 😼

3. Clue Me In* – Three “clue cards” magically turn face up one at a time. All three cards share the same suit as the selected card, and when their values are added together, they add up to the chosen card’s value. 🔍

4. What the Deuce?* – Similar effect to “Clue Me In”. However, the three “clue cards” are all Twos. The missing deuce is the chosen card, which is found sixth from the top of the deck (2 + 2 + 2 = 6). The five face-down cards are turned over to reveal a royal flush in spades. 🤔❓

5. Tongue Sandwich* – A card sandwich routine using a small-packet colour change (the Tongue Change). Two black Queens trap a single card. It’s the Queen of Hearts, which isn’t the spectator’s selected card. The red Queen is pushed through the two black ones, transforming into the chosen card. 👅🥪

6. Pasteboard Puppies – A short routine combining two classic packet tricks: Vernon’s “Twisting the Aces” and Dr. Daley’s Last Trick. The four Fours become four badly behaved dogs that roll over on command—all except Shamrock, who won’t budge until the magician offers him walkies. The two black dogs then magically switch places with the red ones because, as you explain to the audience, they’re “purebred labracadabradors”! 🐶🐶🐶🐶

7. Extending the Elongated Lady* – The Peter Kane classic with additional phases. Trapped between two Jokers, a Queen stretches, twists and then vanishes (or changes colour from black to red). Surprisingly, this version doesn’t use any specially made gaffed cards.

8. Great Magicians Grow Moustaches* – The title trick of the book. A signed King of Hearts is trapped between two double-blank cards. The King stretches, then returns to his normal length. The King is placed into your pocket, then magically jumps back to your hand, between the two blank cards. A capped Sharpie marker is waved over the King, who is being held by a participant, and an inky moustache inexplicably appears on his face. The presentation is based on a recurring dream you had as a child (if you’re a female performer, you can choose to use a Queen instead of a King). 🥸

9. Out of the Blue* – You tell a spectator that you will give him the ability to locate the four Aces in a shuffled deck. Disappointingly, he only manages to find one. You offer to fix “his mistake” but accidentally change the backs of the four cards from red to blue, jokingly admitting that you “BLUE it, too!” Finally, the three indifferent blue-backed cards are transformed into the missing three Aces. Included as a basic demonstration of the Minus One Switch (still a decent enough trick, though).

10. Sexo Chango* – Similar to the above, four red-backed Queens transform into four blue-backed Kings. A demonstration of the Minus None Switch.

11. Colour Changing Kings to Aces* – This is my re-interpretation of a Marvin’s Magic classic. After the red and black Kings magically transpose, the backs of the cards change from red to blue. The cards then transform into the four Aces. Unlike the original, all four cards can be examined at the end of the routine. Uses the Sticky Minus None Switch.

12. Royal Masquerade* – Four red-backed Jokers transform into blue-backed Queens, then into Kings. Again, all cards are examinable at the end of the trick. Also uses the Sticky Minus None Switch. 🎭

13. Sherlockian Sarnie – A sandwich trick with a story about the famous Baker Street detective and his able assistant. During the course of the routine, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson capture Professor Moriarty (the chosen card) and recover a hoard of stolen diamonds. 🔍🥪

14. Peruvian Sandwich – A very entertaining sandwich routine involving three selections (the third card is chosen by the magician) and two odd-backed Jokers. The Jokers trap the first two cards in the usual way. You then tell your participant that she’ll find your card on her own. Miraculously, her card transforms into your chosen card! 🥪

15. Backlash Butty – My go-to modular, multi-phase sandwich routine (using the Tongue Change). 🥪

16. Sandswitch Surprise* – Another sandwich routine using the Double Tongue Change. The wrong card appears between the two face-up sandwich cards (the black Queens). It is transformed into the first spectator’s card and placed aside. Another face-down card appears between the black Queens. It is “twisted” face up; it’s the first spectator’s card again. The card on the table is turned over to reveal the second spectator’s card. (Can be modified to include three chosen cards.) 🥪

17. Family Affair* – The Jack, Queen and King of Hearts find two chosen cards lost in the pack. A straightforward way to perform Roy Walton’s Collectors plot.

18. Coven* – Another simple approach to the Collectors. Three “witches” (Queens) capture two selections lost in a deck thoroughly shuffled by a spectator. 🧹🐈‍⬛

19. Competition Collectors* – You offer to perform a trick that once won a magic competition. Four blue-backed Kings instantly locate three freely selected cards lost in the deck, the three cards appearing interlaced between the blue-backed cards. You tell your audience that all four judges gave the trick the maximum mark of ten. The four blue-backed Kings are turned face up; all four have transformed into Tens. 🔟🔟🔟🔟

20. Soul Seekers* – A similar routine to “Competition Collectors”, four double-blank playing cards—ghostly apparitions, you say—are printed, front and back, into four Kings. These ghostly monarchs disappear into the deck. Three cards are freely chosen, then lost in the pack. The Kings transform back into their phantasmal form, trapping three cards—the three selections. 👻👻👻👻

21. High Card to Hell – A highly theatrical card trick in which two spectators unwittingly play the roles of an unlucky gambler and the Devil in disguise. After the gambler cuts to three sinister Sixes and loses his soul, the Devil offers an impossible wager: find all four Aces to win it back, while secretly knowing that the Ace of Clubs is missing from the deck. Acting as the hero, you, a fellow gambler and “world-famous magician”, spectacularly produce three Aces and triumph by magically transforming the Devil’s own card, the Seven of Clubs, into the missing fourth Ace, beating the infernal demon at his own game. 🔥

22. A Swindle of Souls – In this bizarre storytelling card routine, based on “Wagers of Sin” by Max Maven, you cast yourself as the Devil and a spectator as a compulsive gambler making a high-stakes wager to avoid “The Devil’s Bedpost” (the Four of Clubs). Despite thoroughly mixing and eliminating cards from a thirteen-card packet, the spectator inevitably lands on the cursed card and, as prescribed in a poetic prediction, loses their immortal soul. Granted a chance at redemption, the spectator mixes and eliminates the cards a second time, successfully locating the redemptive Ace of Clubs. For a stunning finale, the remaining twelve discarded cards are revealed to have magically arranged themselves into perfect numerical order. 💀

23. Beelzebet – In this narrative-driven routine, you recount a fateful encounter with a mysterious stranger using a packet of eight cards and a signed, sealed prediction. Through a seemingly fair process of elimination, the spectator is inevitably left holding the unlucky Four of Clubs, which your poetic prophecy reveals has just cost them their immortal soul—a fate punctuated by the visual shock that the Four is the only red-backed card, ominously bearing the number “666”. Offered a final chance at redemption through a second poem, the spectator shuffles and deals the remaining cards, miraculously isolating the Ace of Clubs to win back their soul and secure a heavenly escape. 👿

24. The Devil is Dyslexic – In this comedic twist on Three-Card Monte, you use the Four of Clubs—signed on its face—as the “money card”. After magically changing the signed card’s back from red to blue, you restore its original colour and reveal an ominous message on it: “SANTA IS MY MASTER!” 🎅🏻 Once the obvious error is pointed out, you visually erase the text, freeing the spectator from his contract with the big man in red. For a final, stunning souvenir, you hand the signed red-backed card to the mark, where it impossibly changes back into a blue-backed card. Based on Max Maven’s classic packet trick “Mo’ Monte”.

25. Satanic Switcheroo* – The Four of Clubs magically trades places with the Ace, Two or Three of Hearts, as chosen by a spectator. 👿🔄

26. Jumpin’ Jackalopes* – A multi-phase approach to Dr. Daley’s Last Trick. You display four identical Jokers. Two of the cards are transformed into the Jack of Hearts and Diamonds. These four cards, the two Jokers and two Jacks, jump about in a chaotic fashion, magically switching places with one another. 🐇

27. The Jaybird Jump – Another clever and efficient handling of Dr. Daley’s Last Trick using two Jokers and two Jacks. It can, and possibly should, be performed as the final phase of “Jumpin’ Jackalopes”. 🐦

28. Pieces of Eight* – A highly unusual two-card transposition using the Seven and Eight of Diamonds, both torn in half. ☠

29. Chromosome Monte* – A Three-Card Monte routine using two X cards and the Queen of Hearts. One of the Xs turns into a Y, and the money card follows suit by transforming into the King of Hearts. ✖✖

30. La Dame en Rouge* – Another unusual treatment of Three-Card Monte using two blue-backed Jokers and a red-backed Queen of Hearts.

31. Misprint Monte* – A combination of Three-Card Monte and Wild Card using blank-faced playing cards.

32. Frankenstein’s Monte* – Several modular “building blocks” to enable you to make your own monster of a Monte routine!

33. Too Hot Two Trot – An alternative handling of Al Leech’s “A Hot Card Trick”, more commonly known as “Chicago Opener”. The backs of two selected cards transform from blue to red. It also includes an impressive transposition between the two chosen cards.

34. Red Hof Mama* – A combination of “Chicago Opener” and the Hofzinser Ace Problem.

35. Red Hot Open Prediction* – A prediction effect using a red-backed card. Inspired by Paul Curry’s Open Prediction.

36. Thought Red-Handed* – A new approach to Dai Vernon’s Five-Card Mental Force that always ends in a successful outcome.

37. Lumberjack Location* – The Jack of Hearts helps you locate a freely selected card. 🪓

38. Double Duck-and-Deal Discovery – A fun double-location effect based on Jim Steinmeyer’s classic packet trick, “The Nine Card Problem”. Two participants each select a card from a nine-card packet and mix their cards using a unique spelling procedure. After the packets are combined, you successfully locate the first selection using a “Duck and Deal” elimination process. The attempt to find the second card seemingly goes awry when an incorrect card is found and set aside. But a final repetition of the deal astonishingly reveals that the discarded “wrong” card has actually become the second selection. 🦆🦆

39. Piquet Placement* – A semi-automatic trick using a thirty-two-card Piquet pack. Three random cards are used to locate a freely chosen card lost in the shuffled deck.

40. Lost and Hound – Another location effect using a Piquet pack. The Four of Clubs acts like a bloodhound and sniffs out a selected playing card. 🐕

41. Stopped Four Times* – A new way to perform the Karl Fulves classic “Gemini Twins” that makes the already strong coincidence effect even more impossible. The cards above and below the face-up “prediction cards” are removed. The performer then reverse-counts each packet until the spectator calls out “stop”, eliminating one card from each group. The two randomly chosen cards are the matching mates of the two prediction cards. 🛑🛑🛑🛑

42. Jackpot Jokers* – In this Blackjack-themed routine, four identical Jokers magically transform into four Jacks, which are then placed face up at random positions in the deck by three spectators and the performer. Each Jack is extracted, along with its two adjacent cards, forming four separate packets. The performer then reverse-counts each packet until the spectator calls out “stop”, eliminating one card from each group. The routine concludes with a surprising twist: when the face-down card paired with each Jack is turned over to determine who holds the winning Blackjack hand, each card is revealed to be an Ace of the matching suit—Amazing! 🃏🃏🃏🃏

43. Soulmate Synchronicity – In this deeply romantic card trick, the deck is split into two piles, one for the bride and the other for the groom. You produce the King and Queen of Hearts from each half. The bride and groom then bury these two cards in their portion of the pack, which is then reassembled. After splitting the deck again, the couple deals through the two halves simultaneously, miraculously revealing that their King and Queen have found each other at the exact same position.

44. Shidduchim* – An elaborate version of Larry Becker’s “Will the Cards Match” using a handful of matchsticks and the Ace through Ten of Hearts torn in two.

45. Royal Families* – A romantic coincidence effect using the twelve court cards. A woman finds the King of Hearts, which is then used to locate the Queen of Hearts. The couple then “have a baby” (the Jack of Hearts). The other cards then magically sort themselves into the three remaining family units. 👑

46. Red Thread of Fate – A highly romantic and visual routine using a red string and a small packet of blank cards explicitly designed for couples. In this evocative performance piece, you restore a severed “Red Thread of Fate” tied between a bride and groom, then introduce a packet of blank playing cards. While physically connected by the thread, the couple works together to mix the cards and perform an elimination ritual that miraculously transforms their final two blank cards into the King and Queen of Hearts. To conclude the effect, you hole-punch the royal cards and permanently bind them together with the restored thread as a meaningful keepsake. Also includes an alternative handling in which the King and Queen transpose while tied together by the red thread of fate!

47. Marital Bliss* – Similar to “Jumpin’ Jackalopes”. Two out of four identical Jokers transform into the King and Queen of Hearts. These two cards represent a married couple. The cards switch places several times in a surprising way. Finally, the other two Jokers transform into the Ten of Hearts and the Ten of Diamonds, delivering a heartwarming message of love and good fortune to your audience. 💒

48. Double Happiness – A deeply romantic self-working coincidence effect involving a Chinese “hongbao” (red lucky envelope), a numerological chart, and a deck of playing cards. 💕

49. The Axeman’s Ghost – The magician and a spectator perform a “supernatural ritual” to summon the ghost of the terrifying Axeman of New Orleans. 🪓👻

50. The Little King Who Wasn’t There – A paranormal packet trick set to the poem “Antigonish” by Hughes Mearns. Based on a similar trick by Roy Walton called “Poetry in Motion”. 🫅

51. Twodoo Voodoo – A two-person version of Guy Hollingworth’s “The Voodoo Card”.

52. Hickok’s Hole Card – A simple card trick with a presentation based on the death of the famous gambler and gunslinger Wild Bill Hickok. 🤠

53. ?

54. ?

Three Videos Worth Watching

Once again, here are three videos that I think you should watch this month. All three feature Juan Tamariz.

Juan Tamariz Performs a Card Trick for Ali Cook & Pete Firman

Duration: 5 minutes

This footage is from an old TV show called The Secret World of Magic, presented by a very young, fresh-faced Ali Cook and Pete Firman. I remember watching this on TV when the series first aired in the UK (over twenty years ago now). The trick is typical Tamariz and clearly fools the heck out of the boys!

Juan Tamariz Interview with Dani DaOrtiz

Duration: 7 minutes

Here’s a brief interview in English between Juan Tamariz and one of his most successful students—the incomparable Dani DaOrtiz. I had no idea that Juan’s Seven Veils of Mystery were an actual physical feature of the teaching environment at his home!

The Mathematics of the Mirror: The Magic of Juan Tamariz

Duration: 48 minutes

This is a wonderful Spanish TV show celebrating Juan and his life in magic. It originally aired on RTVE in 2024 and features some beautiful piano performances by Juan’s daughter, Alicia, an accomplished musician, composer and jazz singer in her own right. We’re also treated to three performances by Juan himself and an unusual mind-reading feat by his wife, Consuelo. There’s also a brief conversation with his daughter, Ana, a professional magician who runs a successful magic school in Madrid.

As my Spanish isn’t very good, I quickly put together an interactive transcript to play alongside the recording, so I could better understand the interview segments (and try to improve my conversational Spanish in the process).

Here’s a link to the HTML file (on Itch.io) if you’d like to do the same. It works best when using “split view” in Google Chrome. You might have to pause it (or nudge it by a few seconds) when it falls out of sync with the YouTube recording.

Interactive Transcript 👈

The TV show is well worth the effort, even if your Spanish is as poor as mine! I’ve always felt that some of the magic of Juan’s performances is lost in translation. Seeing him perform in his native tongue for an appreciative Spanish audience is an education in itself and a reminder of what a special and profound performer he was.

That’s your lot for this month. It’s been a sad one, but Juan spent his whole career insisting that magic is a joy, and I’m not about to argue with him now. So go and perform a card trick for somebody this week—and when you get the reaction, just stand there and enjoy it. And maybe play an invisible violin in El Maestro’s honour. 🎻

Yours Magically,

Marty

My blog, Marty’s Bag of Tricks, is currently broken. It seems that one of Google’s automated security systems has locked my Blogger site. This means that all of the links to trick tutorials on Substack are also broken. I’m very sorry for the inconvenience this might be causing you.

If you visit the site at the moment, this is the rather alarming message you’ll see:

Rest assured that I haven’t removed or deleted my blog. I’m hoping that this is an accidental “technical hiccup” that will be fixed soon. Here’s the error message I currently see when I log in using the blog’s admin console:

The error message in the image reads:

I have no idea why this has happened. I also received a fairly cryptic, somewhat scary email from Google, which said:

Now, as far as I’m aware, there’s no malware on my site. I updated the theme recently, but I don’t think I did anything that would have triggered this type of warning. The updates were all fairly innocuous changes to the site’s styling (CSS).

Unfortunately, I have no other option but to sit tight and wait for a human reviewer at Google to look at my blog and (hopefully) unlock it. 🤞

I’ll let you all know when the blog is back. Once again, I’m very sorry for the technical difficulties! 😵‍💫

Yours Magically,

Marty

Apart from my concerns about global warming, I try to enjoy the hot weather while it lasts, although it does induce a little mental fatigue in me when I try to write or think about magic in such a tropical climate (we’re experiencing unusually high humidity and night-time temperatures). 🥵 These changes also wreak havoc on the condition of my playing cards, so I keep my better-quality packs safely stored away when the air gets so humid. I heard that putting a bent or bowed deck in the freezer for a short period can help restore the cards to their original flat condition; I’ve never tried it, so I wouldn’t do it with your rarest, most expensive decks.

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This month, I managed to finish writing several new card tricks, which I shared in a new blog post, “Folk Song, True Crime or Nursery Rhyme?”, on developing more than one presentation for the same core method (in this case, the Automatic Placement, as named and popularised by Ed Marlo).

I’ve also decided to reboot my regular Ruseletter column, Hidden Gems 💎—I’ve unlocked it for everyone using the link below.

Easy Does It #12: Gambler’s Lament

If you missed it, I published another edition of Easy Does It. This time, I share a fun semi-automatic card trick called “Gambler’s Lament”. I also discuss my reasons for developing what turned out to be a very quirky presentation inspired by Appalachian mountain magic, a traditional folk song called “Jack o’ Diamonds” (or “Rye Whiskey”), and an old English nursery rhyme about counting magpies!

New on MBOT: Folk Song, True Crime or Nursery Rhyme?

Process-heavy card tricks have a problem: if you don’t justify the procedure, your audience assumes the process is the method—and they’re usually right. You can’t always disguise the mechanics of a trick, so, in most cases, you might as well highlight them. As the saying goes, if you can’t hide something, paint it red. 🖌🎨

In my latest blog post, building on the foundation of “Gambler’s Lament”, I paint a nearly three-hundred-year-old mathematical principle in three different colours, telling stories of an Appalachian folk song, the Axeman of New Orleans, and a much-loved British nursery rhyme, this time about stolen tarts.

All three are semi-automatic, fairly easy to perform, and completely free to learn. (A fourth is hidden at the end for the most dedicated of Ruseletter readers.) Along the way, I run each routine through Alex Elmsley’s “fisherman’s analogy”—hook them, play them, land them. 🎣

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The Return of Hidden Gems 💎

When I first started writing the Ruseletter, I had plans to publish a monthly column called Hidden Gems, digging up tricks that deserved more attention than they originally got. I only managed to write two editions of the column before it died, largely because I was also trying to write detailed magic reviews of new magic releases on my blog—a stupid thing to do in retrospect.

These days, I’m not sure whether magic reviews, mine included, do more harm than good. Magic reviewers are partly responsible—along with magic creators, producers, dealers and customers—for the over-commercialisation of magic as a hobby.

However, the issue isn’t that new magic is inherently bad, or that magic reviewers are all dishonest or unethical—it’s the crazy churn rate. So much new stuff comes out that good material gets buried within a couple of weeks of its release. It has nothing to do with the quality of the tricks. Magic reviews tend to focus on these new releases, so they speed up this ridiculous churn rate rather than slowing it down.

None of which means you shouldn’t buy things—half the fun of being an amateur magician is playing with an ingenious prop or gimmick, reading a new book, watching a video download or opening a fresh pack of cards (mmm, that new deck smell!). But the thing that actually makes you better isn’t your next purchase; it’s the practice, rehearsal and performance of something you already own. Concentrating on a single trick, practising it properly, and eventually building it into other routines to form an act will do more for your progress as a magician than a dozen you play with once, then throw into your magic junk drawer—we all have one of those, right?

So Hidden Gems is back, providing recommendations that don’t rely on buying and reviewing new releases, but on digging out the good stuff that got buried.

This month: “Harlequin” by Eric Jones—a fast, visual sandwich effect with a kicker ending that I don’t think gets talked about nearly enough. I’ve had it for years, and it’s going back into my working repertoire. I also get into how to combine it with other sandwich routines to build something with a stronger theatrical structure, which is where most of the value lies.

If you’re not yet a paying subscriber, consider this a preview issue (the link below bypasses the paywall). Paid subscribers get every instalment of Hidden Gems, along with all the other member-only perks. Free readers get the even-numbered editions (my freeven model of publication).

One last thing. Eric has been seriously unwell for the best part of a year, and is currently being assessed for open-heart surgery. If you’d like to help, you can donate via GoFundMe—the campaign is within a few thousand dollars of its target. I’ve written more about what he’s been through in “Hidden Gems #3” (another reason I’ve made this issue free to all). Thinking of you, Eric. I hope your recovery is going well.

Three Videos Worth Watching

And, as usual, here are three videos worth watching. 📺

Spread Sandwich

Duration: 1 minute

Here’s a lovely idea by Italian magician Giacomo Bigliardi (he’s also a journalist and writes for One Ahead). The disappearance of the two black Kings is discrepant, but still looks very magical.

If you liked this video, you can join Giacomo’s Bottega mailing list for free on Gumroad.

Blue Seal Bikes

Duration: 15 minutes

If you’re a playing card collector like me, I’m sure you’ll enjoy this video from drummer and amateur magician Rayna Vandel, aka The Other Shuffle.

I still have a few Cincinnati-printed decks and can confirm that the quality of the cards coming out of the old USPCC (United States Playing Card Company) factory was much better than the standard Bikes you can buy today. The registration has certainly gotten a lot worse.

Mr. Jambo Music Video

Duration: 3 minutes

This has nothing to do with magic, but it made me laugh a lot. Graceland by Paul Simon is a favourite album of mine, and this spoof song by Kyle Gordon really tickles my funny bone. I can’t get it out of my head!

That’s it for another monthly update. Stay cool! 😎

Yours Magically,

Marty

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Consequently, I’ve decided to reboot the series—can you reboot something that was only two issues in?—and expand the source material to include e-books, VHS tapes 📼 (yes, I’m old enough to still own a few, although I don’t have a VHS player any more), DVDs and video downloads. After all, I started buying digital magic well over twenty years ago, so it seems silly to exclude them.

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As this is an even-numbered edition, this trick tutorial is available to all Ruseletter subscribers (this is my “freeven” model of publication).

Quick Reference 📋

• Effect Type: Spelling/Location Effect

• Difficulty: ★★★☆☆ (Easy)

• Duration: 3-5 minutes

• Setup Time: Minimal

• Reset Time: Instant

• Props: A standard deck of playing cards

• Key Moves & Principles: Automatic Placement, Double Turnover, Breather Crimp, Marked Key Card

Here’s what happens:

A card is selected “by association” using a traditional British nursery rhyme:

“One for sorrow,
Two for mirth,
Three for a wedding,
Four for a birth,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told,
Eight for love,
Nine for health,
And ten for Old Splitfoot, the Devil himself.”

It’s then lost deep in the deck while your back is turned, ensuring there’s no way you could estimate its location.

Borrowing the techniques of an Appalachian water witch, you divide the deck into two piles. You hover your hand over the cards, demonstrating how they used to dowse for hidden objects, and confidently set aside the pile that lacks the proper feeling.

To cause the selection to rise to the top of the pile, you recite a historical mountain charm:

“Part the dirt and turn the stone,
Make the hidden secret known.
Draw it upward from the earth,
Bring the buried truth to birth.”

The top card is turned over, but it isn’t the spectator’s selection. Explaining that the first charm wasn’t strong enough, you note that old Appalachian “granny witches” would sometimes use a folk song to summon a little help. You deal the wrong card onto the table and ask the spectator to knock on it three times. To complete the charm, you recite an old mountain poem:

“Jack o’ Diamonds, Jack o’ Diamonds, I know you of old,
You’ve robbed my poor pockets of silver and gold.”

When the card is turned face up, it has transformed into the Jack of Diamonds. Your spectator will reluctantly tell you that this is still not her chosen card. You smile and explain that this was expected—you summoned the Jack of Diamonds because he has an unnatural talent for finding hidden things. To force the scoundrel to find her card, you use a very different kind of magic spell. You deal one card from the deck for each letter in his name (“J-A-C-K-O-D-I-A-M-O-N-D-S”). The final card—the one that lands on the “S”—is turned over to reveal the chosen card.

Magpie Magic 🐦‍⬛

I developed this trick while experimenting with Marlo’s Automatic Placement. I wanted to find a way to better justify the slightly odd and indirect selection process. Here’s how the card is usually chosen: a small number of cards are cut from the deck, secretly counted and hidden. The participant is shown ten or fifteen cards and asked to remember the card that falls on her secret number. The hidden cards are then returned to the deck. Through this process, the thought-of card will always end up at a known position from the top of the deck (usually the number of cards shown plus one).

The solution I finally settled on was to use a traditional British nursery rhyme, “One for Sorrow”, to justify the count. (More information on the history of the rhyme can be found on Wikipedia.) However, there was a problem. Because the poem usually ends at the number seven, I had to modify the rhyming scheme to include the numbers eight, nine and ten (taking my cue from the Victorian versions that ran to ten and, as mine does, ended with a line about the Devil). Here’s the final version:

“One for sorrow,
Two for mirth,
Three for a wedding,
Four for a birth,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told,
Eight for love,
Nine for health,
And ten for Old Splitfoot, the Devil himself.”

This worked well with the routine because, at this stage, I’d already attached the Appalachian folk-magic theme to it, and a superstitious rhyme about birds felt at home alongside it. I did have to change the bird from a magpie to a crow, as magpies are not native to the mountainous regions of the eastern United States.

One of the accidental benefits of using the rhyme to justify the count is that it lets you frame the whole thing as a fortune-telling ritual. A spectator is asked to pick a number from one to ten at random, and each number corresponds to an omen in the poem. Although I haven’t tried this aspect of the trick yet, I’m convinced it will create some memorable moments with an audience.

My inspiration for using the rhyme this way was a song called “Magpie”, featured in the third series of Detectorists, performed by the English folk group The Unthanks—both the TV series and folk group get my highest recommendation. The song uses the more modern version of the rhyme (“One for sorrow, Two for joy, Three for a girl, Four for a boy…”). However, I decided to use the older wording because it was a better fit for the trick’s American folklore theme. For the same reason, I included “Old Splitfoot” in the final line, as it is an old American folk name for the Devil; it also echoes the legend of “Mr. Splitfoot”, the Fox sisters, and the birth of nineteenth-century American Spiritualism.

The song—originally titled “The Magpie”—was written and first recorded in 1979 by Davey Dodds, the English prog-folk singer, who sadly died this past February after a long illness. In 2019, he joined The Unthanks on stage at the Cornwall Folk Festival to sing it with them—the song’s writer and the voices that carried it to millions of TV viewers, together for a few magical minutes. You can watch him perform “The Magpie” on his YouTube channel.

It would also be remiss of me not to mention the American rock band Counting Crows, whose name derives from the same British nursery rhyme. The poem also appears in the lyrics of their 1993 song “A Murder of One”, which offers another cool musical connection to “Gambler’s Lament”.

Rye Whiskey I Cry! 🥃

If that wasn’t enough, the presentation also features lyrics from another traditional song, “Jack o’ Diamonds” or “Rye Whiskey”, which remains popular among fiddle and banjo players in the coves, hollows and valleys of Appalachia.

Final Thoughts 🤔

Finally, for those familiar with the Automatic Placement, I’ve found a way to avoid your volunteer having to hide a packet of cards, which can be a little awkward if they don’t have an empty pocket or are wearing a dress. This makes the trick much more practical for casual performance. The full write-up is available on my blog.

Learn the Trick

While you learn and practise “Gambler’s Lament”, I suggest you listen to the songs included above to help you get into the spirit of the routine.

Yours Magically,

Marty

P.S. This is the first in a series of card tricks I’ll be publishing based on the Automatic Placement principle. The next trick, titled “I Alone Know”, will draw inspiration from the chilling true-crime mystery of the Axeman of New Orleans. 🪓

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In the meantime, I’ve been exploring classic “folk card magic” from the pages of Scarne on Card Tricks and Mathematics, Magic and Mystery. I also discovered a couple of new words this month that I think are perfect for magicians, mentalists and mystery performers. Finally, I’ve been contemplating what kind of Batman I want to be when I perform my magic! But first, some new content on my blog, Marty’s Bag of Tricks…

New on MBOT: Duty Aces, Number of the Brain-Rotten Beast & Don’t Call It Art Review

I’m trying to publish more content on my blog because it’s my happy place. This month, I published three new articles.

Learn Duty Aces

You can now learn my three-card set, “Duty Aces”. It uses nothing more than the three Aces and a black envelope. The presentation is based on the eventful history of the Ace of Spades and its surprising link to the British tax system.

The first trick of the set, “Imitation Aces”, is a small packet version of Wild Card. It’s a visual four-card opener in which three apparent “forgeries” of the Ace of Spades sequentially transform into the other three Aces (Diamonds, Hearts, and Clubs).

The second effect is a relaxed, table-based handling of Dai Vernon’s classic packet trick, “Twisting the Aces”. The four Aces mysteriously turn face up, one at a time. For the grand finale, the notoriously stubborn Ace of Spades turns over while completely isolated inside an examined envelope. The presentation is based on “Old Frizzle”, a highly detailed, banknote-style playing card introduced by the UK government in 1828 to counter forgery, featuring intricate foliage, a lion, and a unicorn (see the image above).

The third and final effect is a humorous take on “The Last Trick of Dr. Jacob Daley”, featuring a Victorian cartomancy presentation. The four Aces are introduced through their period meanings—love and money for the red pair, and death and taxes for the black pair. The red and black Aces then invisibly transpose. A participant chooses between love and money, draws death, and finds taxes waiting on the table, while the two red Aces (love and money) turn up safely inside the envelope. This is the closing trick in the “Duty Aces” card set.

The blog article also offers a detailed look at the history of the Ace of Spades. Even if you don’t want to perform “Duty Aces”, you may well find some of these historical details useful in a presentation for another card trick involving the four Aces. There certainly are enough of them!

Read Duty Aces

This is one of my favourite four-Ace routines because it also conveys my passion for the history of playing cards to my audience. I hope you enjoy practising and performing it.

Learn the Number of the Brain-Rotten Beast

Here’s a short blog post about another new trick of mine. This one is available only to paid subscribers. However, if you’re familiar with Karl Fulves’s “Gemini Twins” concept, you’ll be able to devise your own handling for the trick using my suggested presentation.

If you’ve been reading the Ruseletter for a while, you’ll know I’m fond of card tricks with a Faustian feel.

Read Number of the Brain-Rotten Beast!

If you want to learn some more tricks with a similar satanic theme, I’d recommend you read Tricks, Tricks & More Tricks #3: Satanic Sorcery. 👿

Don’t Call It Art Book Review

Finally, I wrote a long book review for Don’t Call It Art by Austin Kleon. While this isn’t a magic book, I think many magicians would benefit from reading it (TL;DR: If you’re serious about magic as an art form, I think this is required reading). I’ve tried to make it an entertaining read and relate the concepts discussed in the book to the world of magic and magicians. I hope you enjoy it.

Here’s one of my favourite pages from the book:

This motivational collage expresses a sentiment very similar to a quote I read in a recent newsletter from James Clear (the bestselling author of Atomic Habits):

“Chase your dreams. It’s unlikely they will play out exactly as you expect, but they know the way. No vision is perfect, but it points in the right direction. Let the energy of your soul lead you.”

Kleon’s book is chock-full of similar quotes and inspirational ideas, making it a perfect gift for anyone with an artistic soul who is struggling to make art.

Read Book Review

Folk Card Magic

As I mentioned in last month’s update, I’m working on a card magic course based on several pieces of “folk card magic”, such as the infamous Twenty-One Card Trick.

This month, I was inspired to revisit a classic self-working card trick after seeing a couple of viral videos on Facebook: one by mumfluencer Elizabeth Etecetera and another by magician Ash Marlow. Elizabeth’s video has garnered 2.1 million views, while Ash’s demonstration has an amazing 3.4 million! This is clearly how folk card magic is shared these days—not by good old Uncle Bob but by content creators on social media. I’m not sure if this is a good or bad thing, but it is the reality we have to deal with.

Anyway, Ash confidently asserts in his video, in big, bold text, that “NOBODY CAN EXPLAIN THIS?” (I’m not sure why he thinks that’s a question), possibly oblivious to the fact that Martin Gardner (1914 - 2010) already did so in 1956 in his book Mathematics, Magic and Mystery. Both of these viral videos feature tricks based on what Gardner calls the Compensation Principle. The trick performed by Elizabeth originates with Henry Christ (1903–1972), the influential New York magician, and is also explained in Mathematics, Magic and Mystery (see page 9). The trick Ash is performing is a three-pile variation of “A Baffling Prediction” from the same book (see page 7).

Both tricks can be traced to trick Number 30 in Scarne on Card Tricks (1950), “Mathematical Finder” (see page 55). A trick that uses the same mathematical principle, called “Prophetic Card Discovery”, appears in The Tarbell Course in Magic, Volume II (Revised Edition), published in 1942. The trick is uncredited, although the write-up mentions it is a favourite of E. J. Moore.

I published a trick called “Pythagorean Prediction” three years ago in Tricks, Tricks & More Tricks #2, which also uses the same mathematical principle.

The Pythagorean presentation attempts to justify the use of the number ten. It’s a clever trick, but it requires a special thirty-three-card Piquet pack. I encourage you to give it a go.

The handlings circulating on Facebook, much like the most popular pieces of folk magic, make the tricks easy to remember and teach to others. If you can remember the correct sequence of events, the magic just works. Still, these effects deserve better presentations that more effectively disguise the mathematical method. I’ll be sharing several ways to do this in a future edition of Corrupting the Classics.

Words for Magicians

This month, I came across two new words I’d never heard before. The first, wonderclout [WUHN-der-klout], is a sixteenth-century English noun used to describe something or someone that is showy on the outside but worthless, useless, or disappointing on the inside. The term blends “wonder” (a marvellous thing) and “clout” (an old word for a useless rag or cloth). It immediately struck me that although I love magic tricks, many are performed in a way that turns them into wonderclout.

The other is fingerspitzengefühl [FING-er-shpit-tsun-guh-FYOOL], a German loanword—a term adopted from one language and incorporated into another—that literally translates as “fingertip feeling”. Figuratively, it denotes an intuitive flair, instinct, or delicate tact. It can also describe the ability to handle tricky situations with perfect sensitivity, knowing exactly what to say or do without causing offence. The best magicians, especially those well-versed in sleight of hand, surely have fingerspitzengefühl in abundance!

What Type of Batman Do You Want to Be? 🦇

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a fan of comic-book superheroes. As a kid, I loved Superman (thanks to the Christopher Reeve films) and the Incredible Hulk (thanks to the late-seventies and early-eighties TV series). However, as I got older, I began reading darker depictions of life as the Caped Crusader, and, as a result, Batman became my favourite superhero. My love for Batman continued to grow after watching Tim Burton’s 1989 film. I then became an avid viewer of Batman: The Animated Series (BTAS). I still consider it one of the greatest comic-book adaptations of all time, and Kevin Conroy’s portrayal is, in my book at least, the definitive depiction of Gotham City’s Dark Knight.

The Batman portrayed in BTAS has a mysterious persona, reminiscent of a film noir private detective. A few episodes even featured theatrical magic, most prominently in “Zatanna”, the fifty-fourth episode of the first series (a favourite of mine). As a result of my love for BTAS, I think I modelled part of my early magical performance persona on that version of Batman (mysterious and a little aloof).

More recently, through my exploration of more playful presentations, I’ve decided that my performance persona is now more akin to the wacky Batman from the 1960s TV series, as portrayed by the legendary Adam West. The show worked so well because it didn’t take itself too seriously. This, I think, is one reason I don’t care much for Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy, even though I appreciate its gritty, rust-belt aesthetic. For me, his forced realism sucked all the fun out of Batman; plus, I can’t take Christian Bale seriously as the Dark Knight when he speaks the way he does in the films. His vocal delivery would be better suited to the stage in a British Christmas panto!

Three Videos Worth Watching

Here are three videos that I watched this month that I think you should watch, too.

Impossible Close Up Street Magic in NYC

Duration: 24 minutes

Here’s some great David Blaine-style street magic by Jonathan Schumacher (JS Magic).

Watch out for a fun version of Dr. Daley’s Last Trick towards the end of the video. It shows how powerful this effect can be. I also like how Jonathan involves two spectators in the trick. The whole video highlights the truism that sometimes the simplest tricks, without multiple phases or complicated kickers, are often the most effective.

The Mysterious Origins of Abracadabra and Other Magic Words

Duration: 8 minutes

A very informative and entertaining video exploring the origins of several well-known magic words.

The Storied channel on PBS has lots of excellent arts and humanities content worth a closer look.

Batmania Born

Duration: 30 minutes

If you’re unfamiliar with this iconic show, I recommend watching the following documentary about the 1960s Batman TV show.

Well, that’s it for another month. Tune in next month for another update. Same Bat-time, same Bat-channel!

Yours Magically,

Marty

P.S. My friend David Ung has started writing again on his wonderful Substack, The Art & Appreciation of Magic. His latest article on counterfeit magic tricks is well worth reading.

The Art & Appreciation of Magic

Counterfeit and Rip Offs in Magic

In the magic community, we love calling out and talking about Exposure, which seems as divisive as ever these days with the advent of social media and influencers using magic exposure to build a brand and get views…

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3 months ago · 5 likes · David Ung

In this instalment, I’m sharing another card trick based on the “6-7” Internet meme. I published a card trick in November last year called “Brain Rot”, which provided an easy way to find all four Sixes and Sevens from an apparently shuffled deck (you can learn the trick on my blog). However, that trick used a seventeen-card setup, which made it a little impractical. This time the trick uses a smaller, much easier-to-remember pre-arrangement. It enables a spectator to apparently locate three Sevens using three face-up Sixes in an act of unbelievable coincidence.

This routine is a lot of fun to perform, especially for youngsters who still find the “6-7” meme funny (if it ever was, particularly after The Great Meme Reset of 2026). Incidentally, my three daughters still think shouting “six-seven” at their exhausted dad is hilarious. Sigh.

When I published the trick in late 2025, I thought it would have a very short shelf life due to the transient nature of Internet memes. However, we’re almost halfway through 2026, and “6-7” still seems to be going strong, in part because primary school children have embraced it as their own. Even the British Prime Minister, Keir Starmer, was caught doing it in the classroom for heaven’s sake!

Right, let’s take a look at my new brain-rot-inspired card trick.

📋 Quick Reference

• Effect Type: Coincidence Effect

• Difficulty: ★★★☆☆ (Intermediate)

• Duration: 3–5 minutes

• Setup Time: Modest

• Reset Time: Less than a minute

• Props: A standard pack of cards

• Key Moves & Principles: Overhand shuffle retaining top and bottom stock, a false cut (Bobby Bernard’s False Swing Cut), Two-Card Catch, Double Undercut, Slip Shuffle, Edward Victor’s E-Y-E Count, and the “Gemini Twins” placement principle

In essence, “Number of the Brain-Rotten Beast” combines Johann Nepomuk Hofzinser’s Two-Card Catch with a three-card handling of “Gemini Twins” by Karl Fulves. It also features a fun, poker-themed presentation that culminates in the silly “6-7” revelation. It also uses the “E-Y-E Count Elimination” idea that I first shared in my trick “Simplex Soulmates” (see Easy Does It #7).

Once you’ve produced the three Sixes, the method is largely self-working. The “6-7” ending also gives your audience something to shout out, if they’re so inclined, adding a little interaction to the conclusion of the routine.

Alternative Presentations

If you don’t like discussing the Number of the Beast and the Devil, and if the “6-7” meme ever dies—and maybe it really should—the same “Gemini Triplets” handling can be applied to the number 42 to evoke the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything (a well-known reference to The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams).1

Another approach when using Fours and Twos is to forget the Number of the Beast and use angel numbers instead! 🪽 444 is widely regarded (by those who believe in this woo-woo) as a powerful spiritual message that you’re on the right path and that your guardian angels are protecting you. Angel numbers are complete nonsense, relying on confirmation bias and the frequency illusion. But this might be a memorable way to introduce the effect.

These two ideas (the angel numbers and the quote from Douglas Adams) could also be combined into a single presentation. I’ll leave that to you.

Incidentally, if I were to present the trick in this way, I wouldn’t use a skill-based production of the three Fours; instead, I’d use this simple force: with the three Fours on top of the deck, have a spectator say “stop” as you deal cards to the table. You then hand them the dealt pile and ask them to deal it into three separate piles. Simple! You can now frame the procedure as an “angel number reading”, ending with the revelation of three sets of 42. Apparently, this number encourages you to pursue your passion, seek balance, create space, and build solid foundations. As this is an overwhelmingly positive message, similar to those used in classic cold readings, it should do no real harm to those who truly believe in angel numbers.

Or, failing that, if you’re feeling a little fruity, you could use the number 69! 😉

Read more

I’ve now been told that my role is at risk of redundancy (it no longer appears in the proposed restructure shared with me a couple of weeks ago). Although I had a feeling this would happen, it still came as a shock, especially given that I’ve worked at the University for more than eighteen years.

It strikes me that most people don’t understand the terrible financial pressure universities are under at the moment. Understandably, they assume we have plenty of money from fat research grants and extortionate student fees—I’ll let you in on a little secret: we don’t. For example, where I work, we’ve just made approximately twenty per cent of the academic workforce redundant (the same is scheduled to happen to support staff, which is where I sit). These financial difficulties are forcing good people to make bad decisions out of necessity. By the end of the year, I may well find myself out of a job, much like some of my friends working in the higher education sector in the UK, the US and Canada, who have already lost their livelihoods through no fault of their own.

For this reason, I’m making more concrete plans to become a part-time pro, something I mentioned in Monthly Update #40. I’ll also be creating some beginner courses on magic, starting with one called Classic Card Conjuring: Folk Card Magic. These will be very different from what’s currently available because I’m designing them as if they were university courses. I’ll be using proven and effective learning design principles to ensure students can progress more quickly and successfully through the material. I’m doing this for two reasons: the first is to address the many shortcomings I currently recognise in the modern methods used to teach magic; the second, to quote S. W. Erdnase, is that “if it sells it will accomplish the primary motive of the author, as he needs the money.”1 The courses will feature a mixture of new and old material (some already published on my blog). I also plan to use a mix of modes to deliver the teaching. Every trick will have a full-text explanation accompanied by hand-drawn illustrations (no AI) and a video demonstration of the effect, so you can see how the magic is meant to look.

Don’t worry, though: I’m still intent on continuing to write this newsletter, along with the articles on my blog. I’m not yet earning enough from the Ruseletter to absorb the shock of losing my day job—that was never the point of writing it, anyway. But the small amount I do make genuinely helps, and it helps more now than it has before.

Which brings me to a thank-you. To everyone already supporting the Ruseletter as a paid subscriber: thank you. It means a great deal, and even more this year than most. If you’ve been reading along for free and found something worthwhile here, becoming a paid supporter is a quiet way to help keep the work going. The free edition isn’t going anywhere, and there’s no pressure—but if you’re in a position to, I’d be grateful.

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Now, on to more cheerful topics. In this update, I’ll share my thoughts on a very clever, almost self-working card trick I learnt from Matt McGurk’s YouTube channel—and on my attempt to work out why it works.

Super Sixteen

A few weeks ago, I stumbled across an excellent video, thanks to the YouTube recommendation system (something I have a love-hate relationship with). In it, professional magician Matt McGurk teaches a semi-automatic trick that I’ve dubbed “Super Sixteen” (Matt doesn’t give it a name in the video):

Learn the Trick from Matt 👈

The method uses a very old mathematical principle that pops up in lots of classic card tricks, most notably “Mathematical Finder” in Scarne on Card Tricks (see page 55). I also use the same principle in a trick of mine called “Pythagorean Prediction” (you can learn it on my blog). However, I’ve never seen the principle used in this particular way to locate a four-of-a-kind. The method uses 16-modulus maths to eliminate the need for the magician to perform any hidden mental arithmetic, make precise placements or adjust the pack to ensure the final card appears in the correct position.

The Mathematics Behind the Magic

With tricks like this one that rely on an underlying mathematical principle, I think it’s wise to understand why they work. If you don’t, it’s easier to bungle the procedure. Understanding the fundamental mathematics also makes it easier to repurpose the method in other tricks and routines.

Let’s call the values of the three randomly chosen cards v₁, v₂ and v₃. When the spectator counts from a card’s value up to 16, they are dealing out a specific number of cards: 16 minus the chosen card’s value (16 − v). After dealing that pile, the chosen card is dropped face up on top, which adds 1 more card to the group. So the total number of cards in that sequence is:

(16 − v) + 1 = 17 − v

When the talon is dropped onto that completed pile, it acts as a cut. You are taking the block of (17 − v) cards and moving it from the top of the deck to the bottom.

This process is repeated for the other two selected cards. The total number of cards moved to the bottom of the deck is therefore:

(17 − v₁) + (17 − v₂) + (17 − v₃)

Simplified, that comes to 51 − (v₁ + v₂ + v₃). Still following me?

Now let’s use S to represent the total sum of the three selections (S = v₁ + v₂ + v₃). This means the process shifted exactly 51 − S cards from the top to the bottom of the deck.

Because a standard deck has 52 cards, it operates as a continuous closed loop. Shifting (51 − S) cards from the top to the bottom is mathematically identical to shifting the remainder of the deck from the bottom to the top, i.e. 52 − (51 − S) = S + 1.

Because the dealing process effectively shifts S + 1 cards from the bottom to the top, the Kings are all carried upward in the pack. Consequently, the final King lands exactly at position S from the top of the deck. The other three Kings end up in positions (S + 1), (S + 13) and (S + 19), directly above the face-up cards in each case.

If the above explanation confuses you, try working through the trick with cards in hand as you read it. I’d also suggest putting the Kings face up in the deck, so you can see where they eventually end up. The only thing that changes each time you perform the trick is the number of cards above the final King (the value of S).

Finally, the biggest issue with tricks like this is that, without a compelling presentation, the mathematical method becomes painfully obvious. Next month, I’ll be sharing three presentations for this trick: one based on a real-life story of unbelievable luck, another on the biblical story of the Magi (the three wise men) and one inspired by Satan himself (well, the folklore surrounding him, at least)! 🍀👑👑👑👿

New on MBOT: A Magic Manifesto

Despite the difficulties at work, I managed to publish a new article on Marty’s Bag of Tricks. In it, I’ve tried to articulate my personal philosophy on the art and craft of magic. I was motivated to write it to better understand my own thoughts and feelings about how best to teach magic.

While I’ve called it a manifesto, quite a few people have pointed out that the word carries unhelpful baggage—it tends to conjure images of unhinged bombers and untrustworthy politicians.

In truth, the piece is closer to an apologia: a formal, reasoned defence of one’s opinions, actions or beliefs. Not to be confused with an everyday apology—which involves an expression of regret or an admission of guilt—an apologia is a statement or written work aimed at justifying, explaining or vindicating a stance. This is what I set out to do with the manifesto, so I may well reframe it as an apologia when I inevitably publish an updated version.

In the meantime, here are my incomplete thoughts on magic as a hobby:

Read the Manifesto

Satyr Aces 🐐

I’m still not decided whether I’m going to continue to write detailed magic reviews. While I think that they’re a valuable resource for magicians, especially amateur magicians who might have a limited budget to spend on magic, I can’t help but shake the feeling that they’re also part of the problem with the overconsumption and hypercommercialisation of magic as a hobby.

Even so, I wanted to highlight a brilliant new packet trick from Cameron Francis and Big Blind Media (BBM) that I recently bought. I’ve long been a fan of Cameron’s work; he used to release self-published e-books, and I always bought them because the quality of the material and his clever thinking never disappointed me.

“Satyr Aces” is no exception; it’s based on “The G.O.A.T.” (Greatest of All Transpositions) by Alex Linian (see Penguin Magic for details). It’s a multiphase packet trick that blends Marlo’s Elevator Cards plot with an off-balance transposition. Unlike its inspiration—which is an excellent trick in its own right—“Satyr Aces” uses a packet of standard cards that can be removed from your working deck, making it more appealing to my tastes.

If you like the trick, you can buy it as an instant download from BBM. The video is clearly a recording of Cameron teaching the trick to Biz over Zoom, so the quality isn’t up to BBM’s usual high standard (where’s Owen with his big camera when you need him?!). But it is perfectly adequate for learning the routine, which shouldn’t take long to master if you’re familiar with the standard false counts and multiple turnovers used in this type of packet trick. This one is thoroughly recommended, especially if you’re as obsessed with packet tricks as I am!

Three Videos Worth Watching

And, as usual, here are three videos I watched this month that I think you should watch, too.

Tim Travels Through the Magic Trapdoor

Duration: 5 minutes

Another wonderful video from Tim “the Toyman” Rowett and his Grand Illusions YouTube channel. In it, he demonstrates several versions of Bob Neale’s “Trapdoor Card,” including “Stargate” by Terri Rodgers.

On Second Thought with Paul Draper

Duration: 55 minutes

An insightful interview with Doug Conn and Paul Draper, in which the two experienced entertainers discuss Paul’s new book, On Second Thought.

Kevin Parry TED Talk

Duration: 14 minutes

This one’s not magic-related, but the storytelling principles Kevin discusses here apply to presenting magic in all its forms.

Kevin also writes a regular blog that is worth reading, particularly if you are interested in animation, filmmaking and social media.

I may not know what my day job will look like by the end of the year—or even whether I’ll still be working in higher education—but I know what I’ll be doing in my spare time: making magic, as always. I hope you found this monthly update worthwhile. Until next month, keep practising, rehearsing and performing!

Yours Magically,

Marty

P.S. I also managed to finish off writing up my “Duty Aces” three-trick card set. You can learn it on my blog.

In the words of a famous Italian plumber, “Let’s-a go!”

Mark Leveridge Magic Podcast 🎙

Recently, I’ve been seriously considering becoming a part-time professional, so I’ve been listening to past episodes of the Mark Leveridge Magic Podcast to learn more about the practical and business side of performing magic for a living. While I have a day job I like, the UK university where I work is in the middle of cutting 20% of its staff. Consequently, there’s a small but significant chance I might not have a job by the end of the year—fun times indeed! 🤣😭 I’ve decided that, regardless of what happens, it might be better for my future career prospects to establish multiple income streams, and performing magic for payment is an obvious option.

Back to the podcast. Mark began his monthly magic musings in January 2013, with no idea how long the show would last. Although he’s since moved to publishing it every two months, it’s still going strong: there are currently 115 episodes available on Podbean, although the first 23 episodes, from January 2013 to November 2014, appear to be missing from the archive. I like the show because, as a professional magician with over forty years’ experience, he shares practical tips and advice on the realities of making a living from performing magic—something very few magic podcasts do.

If you’d like to explore the podcast but aren’t sure where to begin, I’d recommend the August 2020 episode, in which Mark recounts a funny story about a close-up gig and a vicious seagull! This story perfectly encapsulates how he uses humorous, self-deprecating personal disasters to teach life lessons about the unpredictability of working as a professional magician.

As there are so many episodes, each 30 to 45 minutes long, I downloaded them all and added them to an AI-powered notebook using a Google service called NotebookLM. By doing this, I have access to an accurate transcription of each episode and can use Google’s Gemini chatbot interface to interrogate the text. For example, I asked it to provide me with Mark’s top five tips for amateur magicians who want to go pro. Here’s the response I got:

Here are Mark Leveridge’s top five tips for amateur magicians looking to make the leap to a professional career:

1. Calculate your financial needs and have a buffer

Before giving up your regular salary, you must recognise that professional magic income is often sporadic while living expenses are systematic. Mark advises calculating your total living expenses and dividing that number by your average show fee to find out exactly how many extra bookings you need to survive. You should also ensure you have some savings to fall back on during your initial transition.

2. Diversify your income streams

Mark warns against putting all of your eggs in one basket by relying on a single type of performance. To sustain a long-term career, you should branch out and offer multiple services, such as children’s parties, close-up magic, stand-up shows, trade show entertainment, lecturing, and even selling magic products.

3. Eliminate your fallback plan to enforce perseverance

Success requires a “never say die” attitude to survive the inevitable dips in bookings and income. Mark strongly advises against keeping a “parachute” or fallback option, such as planning to simply return to your old day job if magic does not work out. He argues that lacking an easy alternative provides the intense motivation required to make your magic career succeed.

4. Treat it like a genuine business

Show business is made up of two words: the show and the business. If you only focus on your act and ignore essential business skills like accounting, strategy, and self-promotion, you will not succeed. Mark recommends treating lead generation and marketing as your daytime job, utilising both online and offline advertising, and actively networking with local business groups.

5. Conduct a “risk assessment” on your act

The difference between an amateur and a professional is that an amateur expects everything to go perfectly, while a pro fully expects things to go wrong. You should perform a critical risk assessment of your act to anticipate potential technical or prop failures. By establishing contingency plans for major disasters—such as a broken invisible thread or failing electronics—you can recover seamlessly during a live performance.

This isn’t word-for-word what Mark said. The AI is consolidating and paraphrasing from the sources uploaded to the notebook. But, because NotebookLM is a “source-grounded AI”, it doesn’t introduce unverified information into its responses; it only uses the sources you’ve uploaded to the notebook—in this case, all 115 episodes of Mark’s podcast.

This technique, sometimes called Retrieval-Augmented Generation (RAG), can be used with any of the current crop of AI chatbots. The catch is that with most chatbots, RAG only adds information and, crucially, doesn’t prevent the model from using its broader training data (which might not always improve output quality). Source-grounding, however, is built into the very fabric of NotebookLM’s operation, making it much less likely to hallucinate (make stuff up). It also generates inline citations (footnotes) that link directly to the specific sections of your uploaded material. These citations allow you to verify the accuracy of AI-generated content and trace any information back to the original source it was extracted from (in this case, specific locations in the podcast transcripts). All of this makes it a much more reliable research tool than your average general-purpose chatbot.

I asked Gemini—the AI that powers NotebookLM—to compile a list of the podcast episodes it drew on to generate the top five tips. I did this on the assumption that some of you might also benefit from listening to the original source material. If you have a similar interest in “going pro”, the twelve podcast episodes below provide an excellent primer:

• May 2015 - This episode provides foundational financial advice, including calculating your required show volume relative to your living expenses, ensuring you have a financial buffer, diversifying your income streams, and compartmentalising your marketing websites for different audiences.

• March 2015 and November 2017 - These episodes emphasise the importance of keeping props immaculate, such as replacing dog-eared cards, swapping out dirty grey ropes for fresh white ones, and regularly polishing brass items.

• May 2017 - This is where the strategy of proactively collecting testimonials and including relevant quotes in every email you send to a potential booker originates.

• July 2017 - This episode contains advice to filter your inquiries by requiring bookers to complete a detailed form, thereby deterring casual “cold” leads.

• April 2018 - Mark details the importance of compartmentalising your marketing to appear as an expert and explains that 90% of a professional’s energy should go into audience management, leaving only 10% for the trick mechanics.

• May 2020 - This episode discusses cultivating a relentless “never say die” attitude by eliminating fallback plans, such as returning to an old day job, and introduces the concept of doing a “risk assessment” for your act.

• April 2022 - Expanding on the risk assessment concept, this episode highlights the difference between amateurs who expect perfection and professionals who actively expect and plan for things to go wrong.

• October/November 2022 - This episode addresses the unique challenges for semi-pros, emphasising the need to consistently project high energy and professional standards, even after a tiring day at a regular job.

• April/May 2024 - Mark advises protecting your hard-won reputation by having the confidence to walk away from gigs where a booker has completely unrealistic expectations.

• August/September 2024 - This episode provides actionable tips for mastering the live environment, specifically identifying amateur physical habits to eliminate, such as fidgeting, swaying, avoiding eye contact, and failing to project your voice.

• December 2024/January 2025 - This episode is the source for the advice to step outside of magic circles and join local business networking groups to connect with business owners face-to-face.

If you’re sceptical of, or even a little intimidated by, AI, I’d encourage you to try NotebookLM to support your magical studies. You don’t have to stick to a single repository of information, as I did here. You can mix and match your favourite magical sources—podcasts, blog posts, magic books and periodicals—and start asking interesting questions.

I want to express my heartfelt thanks to Mark Leveridge for recording and sharing these podcast episodes for free. They’re an invaluable resource for anyone seeking to build a successful career in magic.

Imitation Aces

This month, I wrote up a fast-paced four-Ace trick called “Imitation Aces”. You can learn more about it in the latest edition of Packet Trick Paradise:

🃏🌴 Read Packet Trick Paradise #14: Imitation Aces 👈

This is the opening effect of a three-trick set called “Duty Aces”, which I’ll share in the next instalment of Corrupting the Classics (which is taking me a little longer than anticipated to write, but should be published sometime in May).

Royal Variety 👑

Paid subscribers can now learn one of the best packet tricks I’ve ever invented: “Royal Variety” in Packet Trick Paradise #13. The routine features four classic card-magic plots—Wild Card, Ambitious Card, Card Warp, and Cards to Pocket—all wrapped up in a playful circus-themed presentation. 🎪

Here’s what happens:

You announce that you’ll recreate the circus with just three cards.

“First into the big top are the clowns,” you say, displaying three identical Jokers. “But I prefer the quick-change artists.” The Jokers transform, one by one, into the Queen, King and Jack of Hearts.

“Then come the acrobats.” You perform a short, Ambitious Card sequence: the King repeatedly leaps to the top of the packet on your cry of “Allez Hop!”—finishing with two backflips (turning face down, then face up again, while trapped between the other two cards a la Card Warp).

“But my favourites are the magicians and their glamorous assistants.” The Jack is placed in your pocket and instantly jumps back to your hand. The Queen makes the same impossible journey. Finally, the King vanishes from between the Jack and Queen, reappearing in your pocket. All three cards are handed out for examination.

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Square Holes

I recently came across an old Numberphile YouTube video about the “Square Hole” illusion—a geometric puzzle in which a large circular drinks coaster passes through a much smaller, rigid square hole in a sheet of paper. It works because folding the paper creates “elbow room” (ambient three-dimensional space) that isn’t present when it is flat, allowing the disc to pass through.

I think it’s this particular video, featuring Tadashi Tokieda, that inspired the recent wave of viral videos showcasing the puzzle on YouTube, Instagram and TikTok. A good example is Pete Firman’s Square Hole video on TikTok. (I’ve featured puzzle-based magic like this before in the Ruseletter—see Monthly Updates #8 and #9 if this stuff tickles your fancy.)

Three years ago, Canadian magician and master mischief-maker Ryan Pilling released a more magical version of the puzzle. For the ridiculously low price of $7 (about £5 or €6), you can learn several variations that add “one-degree” improvements to the optical illusion. He also provides a few alternative presentations and teaches you how to make the props (using custom-designed PDF files included with the package). My favourite approach is his “Houdini Through A Brick Wall”, which is the perfect paper-based trick to keep in your wallet.

You can find Ryan’s “Square Hole” at your favourite magic dealer. However, I’d recommend buying it directly from Ryan himself—creators tend to earn more per download this way.

Buy Square Hole

Disclaimer: I’m not being paid to promote this product. I bought it myself and thought it was woefully underappreciated at the time of release and didn’t receive the attention it deserved. If you like what Ryan does in the video above, you won’t be disappointed.

Three Videos Worth Watching 📺

Here are three videos I’ve watched this month that I think you should watch too.

The Zabrecky Hour 💀

Duration: 15 minutes

A weird and wonderful performance by Rob Zabrecky, in which he hosts an unconventional birthday séance and invites audience members to participate in a series of mysterious spectral experiments. Attendees handle odd artefacts and take on strange challenges to determine whether communication with the afterlife is truly possible.

Strong Magic Show by Michael Vincent

Duration: 21 minutes

Here’s another full act from the incomparable Michael Vincent. The show features a variety of classic routines, including the Hold-Up Trick and the Linking Rings. Between effects, Michael shares personal stories about his magic mentors, the philosophy behind magic, and the importance of elements such as drama, suspense, and perception in creating a successful trick. The performance combines technical skill with masterful storytelling, culminating in a philosophical reflection on balance and beauty inspired by Lao Tzu.

Oz Pearlman on the WHCD Attack

Duration: 13 minutes

I was startled to hear that Oz Pearlman, mentalist and former demo guy for Penguin Magic, was performing right next to President Trump during the recent White House Correspondents' Dinner shooting. What was even more shocking, at least to me, was how many people seemed indifferent to the event, as if an assassination attempt on the President of the United States were the most ordinary thing in the world. We live in very strange times!

In the video, Oz recounts his harrowing experience. He describes the sudden shift from performing a mind-reading routine for the President, First Lady and Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt to diving for cover as Secret Service agents took the President to the floor on stage. He describes the surreal moment of locking eyes with Trump from a few feet away amid the chaos, and his initial fear that a bomb was about to go off.

I hope you enjoyed this monthly update. If you’d like more tips on using AI as a study aid, please let me know in the comments or by replying via email.

Yours Magically,

Marty

P.S. I thought I’d start adding bonus content at the very bottom of the newsletter to reward my most dedicated readers.

The Brutal Business of Professional Magic

You may be aware that NotebookLM can generate new forms of media from the sources in your notebook. One of these is an “audio overview” featuring two over-enthusiastic American podcasters discussing the source material. Here’s an example on the topic of becoming a professional magician. I’m not sure whether it encourages me to become one or puts me off entirely! But it does synthesise much of Mark’s excellent advice on the topic into a handy long-form podcast episode.

Finally, here’s the prompt that I used within NotebookLM to create the audio overview above. You might like to try using it with other AI-powered tools, such as ChatGPT, Gemini, Claude, Perplexity, or Lumo (a more privacy-focused option).

You are a professional magician and performance career coach with deep experience guiding amateur performers through the transition to full-time professional magic. I’m an amateur magician, seriously considering going pro, and I want a comprehensive, honest assessment of everything I need to think through before making that leap.

Analyse the full picture of this transition—covering the artistic, business, financial, psychological, and practical dimensions. For each area, go beyond surface-level advice: identify the non-obvious pitfalls, the things most amateurs underestimate, and the decisions that tend to make or break early professional careers. Where relevant, distinguish between different professional paths (close-up/table magic, stage shows, corporate entertainment, children’s parties, trade shows, etc.) since the considerations differ meaningfully.

Draw on real patterns you’ve observed in performers who succeeded versus those who struggled. Be direct about the hard truths—the income reality, the rejection, the identity shift from hobbyist to professional—not just the inspiring upside. Prioritise depth over breadth: if certain considerations are genuinely more critical than others, make that hierarchy clear.

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📋 Quick Reference

• Effect Type: Packet Trick

• Difficulty: ★★★☆☆ (Intermediate)

• Audience Size: Close-up/Parlour

• Duration: 5-7 minutes

• Setup Time: Minimal

• Reset Time: Instant

• Props: Four regular Aces and an opaque envelope

• Key Moves & Principles: Block Turnover, Diminishing Lift Sequence, Flushtration Count, Through the Fist Flourish, Twirl Change, Shapeshifter Change

“Imitation Aces” is the first effect in a three-trick set called “Duty Aces”, which will be published in the next issue of Corrupting the Classics. Each trick in the set uses the same set of simple props (the four Aces and a black envelope). This is my attempt to create a short packet trick that doesn’t rely on extra cards; something that’s surprisingly difficult to do.

The Effect

Here’s what happens in “Imitation Aces”:

Four Aces of Spades are displayed by the magician, who explains that only one of them is genuine. The three “counterfeit cards” visually transform into the Aces of Diamonds, Hearts and Clubs, leaving the performer with four regular Aces.

Beyond the handling itself, which is well within reach of intermediate card workers, I’ve developed a unique presentation for the trick based on the fascinating—and largely forgotten—history of the Ace of Spades and its link to the British tax system.

The Death Card 💀

From 1711, the British Government collected tax revenue on playing cards through a series of stamp duty laws, initially requiring a hand stamp to be placed on one card, typically the Ace of Spades, as proof that duty had been paid on each pack of playing cards sold.

In 1765, this system was formalised, and card makers were required to purchase every Ace of Spades directly from the Stamp Office, which printed them with an elaborate royal coat of arms to deter forgery. Counterfeiting these “duty Aces” was regarded as a serious crime and capital offence; in 1805, the card maker Richard Harding was hanged at the Old Bailey for making fraudulent copies of the Ace of Spades. No wonder some people call it the death card! 💀

In 1828, an even more ornate version was introduced—printed by Perkins Bacon on behalf of the Commissioners of Stamps (see image above). It bore a lion, a unicorn and considerably more foliage than its predecessor. This elaborate, banknote-style design became known as “Old Frizzle”. The system remained in place, in various forms, until the duty was finally abolished in 1960. However, the tradition of ornate, intricate pip designs on the Ace of Spades has endured and become a standard feature across most modern deck designs.

Shake, Snap and Sniff! 🫨🫰👃

Like many magicians, I also collect playing cards, so it makes perfect sense to talk about their history when performing card magic. This trick enables you to begin with a strong hook, such as:

• “How good do you think you are at spotting a fake?”

• “Do you think you could tell a forgery from the real thing?”

• “Have you ever held a card that was worth a man’s life?”

• “I’d like to show you something I probably shouldn’t—not because it breaks the magician’s code, but because it’s treason. Well, at least it used to be.”1

• “In another century, what I’m about to show you would have cost me my neck.”

• “In 1805, four cards like these cost a man his life.”

You can then continue by saying, “In this envelope, I have four playing cards—one is genuine; the other three are forgeries.” This gives you a compelling way to begin the routine and instantly captures your audience’s attention. The historical details help to sustain that interest as the routine progresses.

I particularly like the silly way the transformations are described as historic tests for detecting forgeries; you begin with the “shake test”, then the “snap test”—both of which sound semi-plausible (although they are, of course, complete nonsense). But you finish with the most absurd: the “sniff test”! 👃 This presentational framing gives you plenty of scope to interact and have some playful fun with your audience, e.g., by getting them to smell the cards themselves. Of course, you can lean into the more serious and solemn side of the presentation if that’s more your thing. As I perform this as an opener, I tend to take a more lighthearted approach with a touch of the ridiculous.

Want to learn it? The full tutorial, along with performance tips and credits, is now available on my blog:

Learn the Trick

Yours Magically,

Marty

P.S. Incidentally, the suggested presentation that I’ve included would also work well when paired with Peter Kane’s Wild Card plot, in which you transform the cards into duplicate Aces of Spades. In fact, I’m currently playing with a handling by Eric DeCamps called “Impromptu Wild Card,” which was released as a video download by Fantasma Magic circa 2008. While the product is no longer available, you can still watch a performance of it on YouTube. I’ve found that it is possible to modify the handling so that you appear to print four Aces of Spades before transforming three of them, all at once, into the Aces of Hearts, Clubs and Diamonds. Once I’ve worked out the details, this will be published as “Forged Aces” in a future edition of Packet Trick Paradise.

📋 Quick Reference

• Effect Type: Packet Trick

• Difficulty: ★★★★☆ (Upper Intermediate)

• Audience Size: Close-up/Parlour

• Duration: 6-8 minutes

• Setup Time: Minimal

• Reset Time: Instant

• Props: A Jack, Queen and King of Hearts, along with a Joker, all with matching back designs. A small box or bag of popcorn (optional).

• Key Moves & Principles: Mini Ascanio Spread, Block Turnover, Diminishing Lift Sequence, Flushtration Count, Clip-and-Flip Double Turnover, Shapeshifter Change, Packet Pirouette, Tongue Change, Trevor Lewis Monte Move, Persistence of Vision Vanish

This trick was originally titled “Three-Card Stunner” in my notebooks. I delayed publishing it because, to be frank, I didn’t have a decent presentation to accompany it. The method was great, but there was no compelling hook or theme for the magic taking place. In other words, the trick had no heart—and a heartless trick is barely worth performing, no matter how good the method.

Then it struck me. The routine could be presented as a homage to my favourite variety performers and an expression of my love of the circus. Here’s what happens:

You remove some cards from your pocket and announce that you’re going to recreate the wonder and excitement of the circus using just three cards.

“Traditionally, the first performers to enter the big top are the clowns during the come-in,” you say as you display three identical Jokers. “Their zany antics are a lot of fun, but I find clowns a little creepy. I prefer the quick-change artists…” As you say this, you transform the three Jokers into the Queen, King and Jack of Hearts.

“I also love the acrobats,” you say, as you perform a short, ambitious card sequence with the three cards. The King of Hearts keeps jumping to the top of the packet when you cry, “Allez Hop!” He finishes his act by performing two backflips (the card magically turns face down, then face up again when trapped between the other two cards).

You then share that, unsurprisingly, your favourite circus performers are the magicians and their glamorous assistants. The Jack is put in your pocket, but amazingly, he manages to jump back into your hand. The Queen makes the same invisible journey with the same impossible result. Finally, the King visually vanishes from between the Jack and Queen, then reappears in your pocket. All three cards are handed out for examination.

Why should you bother learning “Royal Variety”? Let me make the case as simply as I can: four classic card magic plots, four ordinary playing cards, and a memorable presentation that often stirs fond childhood memories of going to the circus. For a packet trick, it punches well above its weight. 🥊 That said, the method is better suited to intermediate card magicians, so be prepared to put in some practice before performing it.

The routine features four of the most beloved plots in close-up card magic—Wild Card, Ambitious Card, Card Warp and Cards to Pocket—woven into a single, seamless routine that plays in under ten minutes. Each phase functions as a standalone effect, yet together they create something greater than the sum of their parts. Audiences don’t experience a packet trick. They experience a miniature circus show. 🎪

And then there’s the practical side. You end completely clean, with three examinable cards. It resets instantly—just drop the cards back in your pocket, and you’re ready to go again. You don’t need a table. You don’t need any gaffs or special cards. You don’t need anything except a Jack, Queen, King and Joker. These can be taken from your working deck or kept in a wallet, envelope, or pocket, making the trick a practical choice if you’re performing mix-and-mingle magic and intend to repeat it for multiple audiences.

Additionally, the modular structure means you can cut the routine short if you’re interrupted without the audience feeling short-changed; you can exit cleanly after Phase 2 (Quick-Change Clowns) or Phase 3 (Ambitious Acrobatics) without disrupting the overall flow of the piece. This makes it ideal for restaurants, banquets, parties, or any setting where the performing environment is somewhat unpredictable.

Finally, the circus presentation gives it warmth, humour and a through-line that pure card magic often lacks. Audiences leave with a memorable story to tell—and that, more than anything else, is what makes a trick worth learning.

This is an odd-numbered edition of Packet Trick Paradise, available only to paid subscribers. It seems thirteen is indeed unlucky for some—namely, my free subscribers, who won’t have access to this tutorial unless they upgrade. Fear not, though. I’ll be publishing another instalment of Packet Trick Paradise in a few days for all Ruseletter readers. In it, I’ll be sharing a fantastic packet trick called “Imitation Aces”, designed as a perfect prelude to Dai Vernon’s “Twisting the Aces”.

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The update closes with my plans for the next (expanded) edition of Corrupting the Classics. It’s going to be a good one!

New on MBOT: Hay’s Paradox

Reading time: 10 minutes

I finally managed to write a more robust article on Hay’s Paradox and its connection to Soviet psychologist Lev Vygotsky’s Zone of Proximal Development (ZPD). You can read the article on Marty’s Bag of Tricks (if you haven’t done so already):

Read the Blog Post

Do You Like David Blaine’s Style of Magic?

It’s certainly undeniable that David Blaine transformed the public perception of magic—and magicians—in the late 1990s. In short, he made magic cool again. Like many amateur magicians my age, I was profoundly influenced by his first few TV specials—an influence that led to a deep love of close-up magic that persists to this day.

However, whenever his name comes up online, at magic clubs, or at conventions, his style tends to divide the room. It’s a classic Marmite situation—people either love him or hate him. I’m not entirely sure why this happens. Perhaps it’s driven by professional jealousy, or maybe some magicians simply dislike his monosyllabic, deadpan delivery (though, make no mistake, this performance persona is entirely intentional and thoroughly disarming).

Personally, I’ve always appreciated Blainesian close-up magic—his straightforward, no-nonsense style of conjuring. Most magicians talk far too much—and far too quickly—when performing card tricks. They speak a lot, but often say very little. Blaine’s minimal dialogue does something critical: it allows his audience the time and space needed to respond. This approach places the attention entirely on the spectators and their reactions to the magical moment. It’s a far less egocentric way to present magic. While I don’t love everything he does (especially the squirm-inducing stunts with frogs and needles), his minimalist method acting is a remarkably generous way to share magic with people.

Blaine Meets the Golden Knights

Blaine’s signature style was on full display earlier this month when he performed for the Vegas Golden Knights, a professional ice hockey team based in Las Vegas.

I really enjoyed the performances in this video; it brought back memories of old-school David Blaine. Those early TV specials—the ones I recorded on VHS and watched repeatedly until I could reconstruct some of the methods. Those were the days! 📼

A few things stood out to me as a magician: I love how he casually blocks the Top Change from the camera’s view when performing for Braeden Bowman. You rarely see this level of situational awareness when magicians perform on live TV or for social media. (He did the same thing recently when filmed by fellow passengers while doing impromptu magic on a plane—see Monthly Update #36).

Using Bowman’s jersey number (42) as the reveal for his interpretation of Eddie Fechter’s “Be Honest, What Is It?” was a brilliant touch. It made the magic feel personally connected to Bowman and the Golden Knights. Notice how Blaine doesn’t point out the number himself. He simply hands the card over and lets Bowman discover that the two cards match his jersey number. By remaining silent, he amplifies the impact of the effect tenfold.

So, what can we learn from Blaine’s performance for the Vegas Golden Knights? We should probably all speak less when performing our tricks.

Do you like Blainesian card magic? Let me know by replying or posting your thoughts in the comments on Substack.

Whispering Jokers 🃏🃏

In the video above, Blaine starts with a version of Any Card At Any Number (ACAAN). I’m not entirely sure which method he’s using, but I like the hands-off nature of the trick and the way he builds up the effect once everything is in place. This trick reminded me that I had written an unusual variation of ACAAN based on Craig Petty’s “Destiny Deal” and Ladson Butler’s “The Whispering Queen”. I put this together a few months ago and had completely forgotten about it, so I thought this would be a good time to share it. I hope you have fun with this one.

Learn the Trick

The Mystery of Piggly Falls 🐖🏞️

This month, I’ve been re-reading some of Eugene Burger’s thought-provoking essays on the art and theory of magic. Eugene’s teachings have been a major influence on me as a magician, particularly the way I approach presentation and performance. One of my favourite pieces written by him is “Creating Interest”, which can be found on page 115 of Magic in Mind, a free collection of essential essays for magicians from Vanishing Inc. Magic. (The essay originally appeared in Eugene’s 1983 booklet, Intimate Power, and is also included in his anthology Mastering the Art of Magic.)

I’ve read the essay several times, but on my most recent reading, I noticed that Eugene mentions a place—presumably in America—with the curious name of “Piggly Falls”. Here’s the opening paragraph of the essay:

Every exploration begins somewhere. If I want to visit Los Angeles, for example, I must begin from somewhere else, from someplace concrete—Chicago or New York or Piggly Falls. In much the same way, every exploration of an area of thought and action, such as conjuring, begins with the assumptions and preconceptions of the explorer.

Now, colour me naïve, but I assumed Piggly Falls was a real place. Naturally, I searched the web for this mysterious location. I found “Pixley Falls” in New York, but no sign of Eugene’s “Piggly Falls”.

Then it hit me: it was a classic “Burger-ism”! Eugene was a master of using wit and whimsy to make his deep philosophical insights more interesting and accessible. The “folksy” name of Piggly Falls—an intentionally silly, rural-sounding fiction—serves as a rhetorical device: the “podunk” starting point, the Everyman’s hometown.

And for most of us, our “Piggly Falls” is the comfortable delusion that magic is inherently interesting.

Burger thought the opposite was true: that magic tricks really are not very entertaining in and of themselves. He believed that to a stranger in an informal setting, a card trick is often an “unwelcome intrusion”—and even when the magic is warmly received, the spectator’s likely response is that it’s all “a bit trivial”. By starting from this “place” of assumed boredom, Burger argued, the magician is forced to do something vital: actually create interest in his words and actions.

Not everyone agrees with Burger’s starting assumption. Darwin Ortiz calls it “Fitzkee’s Fallacy”, arguing that strong magic is inherently entertaining. Joshua Jay’s own experience, as expressed in the editorial introduction to the essay, is that the premise is “entirely conditional”. But I think the point holds for most of us who perform informally: we cannot rely solely on our tricks to do the work for us.

Burger didn’t just theorise about this. He spent years crafting compelling hooks and opening lines. One of his best was a direct question: “Would you like to see the greatest card trick of the 20th century?” It’s designed to do one thing: create interest before a single card is touched. As Burger notes, the number of people who said “No” was surprisingly small. If you read nothing else in Magic in Mind, read the passage where he describes watching two strangers in a restaurant lounge, timing his approach, and delivering that line. It’s a masterclass in what “creating interest” looks like in practice.

The lesson of Piggly Falls isn’t just that we all start somewhere; it’s that we must recognise the biases we carry from our starting point. If we assume the tricks are enough on their own, we remain stuck in Piggly Falls. But if we accept that it’s our duty to make the audience care, we might finally leave our small-town thinking behind us.

Sure, I felt like a complete idiot for searching for a fictional town, but I’m glad I did. It reminded me that in magic, we all start in Piggly Falls. The question is whether we’re willing to leave.

Not familiar with Eugene Burger and his magic? I strongly recommend you watch the video below of him performing on Paul Daniels: Live at Halloween in 1987.

Twist and Transpose

I’m currently working on the next instalment of Corrupting the Classics. I’ve decided to make this a bumper edition and showcase two of my favourite small-packet card effects: Dai Vernon’s “Twisting the Aces” and Dr Daley’s Last Trick. The reason I’ve chosen to pair them is that I usually perform these two tricks together; I’ve always felt that “Twisting the Aces” works better as a prelude to the two-by-two transposition. In fact, I don’t think Vernon’s most famous packet trick makes a good stand-alone trick or opening effect. For me, it functions much better as a “transition piece” between, say, a four-Ace production and Dr Daley’s Last Trick. I think this has something to do with the unusual nature of the effect from a layperson’s point of view. If they’re expecting to pick a card for you to find, having cards mysteriously turn face up and face down can be quite disorientating because they have no frame of reference for the magic taking place.

The article will include an in-depth discussion of both tricks, along with various ways to perform and present them within the context of a three-trick set. In total, I’ll be sharing ten previously unpublished tricks! (The first five will be available to both free and paid subscribers—hopefully, this will keep all my valued readers happy.)

For a long time, I’ve been trying to group my card tricks into “triplets”: short, three-trick card sets. This approach is often attributed to the late, great Michael Skinner, who famously held court as the resident close-up magician at the Golden Nugget Casino in Las Vegas for over two decades. He had one of the largest working repertoires in the history of magic. To manage hundreds of effects without ever drawing a blank, he relied heavily on this “sets of three” philosophy.

Skinner didn’t just group tricks into triplets as an aide-mémoire; he did it to guarantee a professional performance every time he approached a table. Grouping your repertoire in this way provides three important benefits:

• A Built-in Narrative Arc: A set of three naturally creates a beginning, a middle and an end. (The same three-act structure used in cinema and theatre.) A three-trick set usually consists of a quick, highly visual opener to grab attention, an interactive middle routine to get the spectators involved, and a hard-hitting closer to leave a lasting impression.

• Banishing “Magician’s Panic”: When you know exactly what trick follows the one you are currently performing, you can eliminate that awkward “what should I do next?” pause.

• Playing “Magic Jazz”: Once you have several three-trick sets memorised, you can dynamically mix and match them. If you sense someone wants to see more magic after your first set, you simply launch into another pre-planned set of three. While the three tricks are linked, you can choose which specific triplets to perform in the moment, giving your overall performance a strong sense of spontaneity. 🎷🃏✨

With all this in mind, I’ll be sharing a card set I call “Only Aces” “Duty Aces”. As the name implies, this is a set of three tricks that use nothing more than four regular Aces. It begins with a fast-paced routine called “Imitation Aces”, in which three “imitation” Aces of Spades visually transform into the Ace of Diamonds, Hearts and Clubs. Next, you transition into “Traditional Twist”, a classic handling of Vernon’s “Twisting the Aces”, before finishing with a witty presentation of “The Last Trick of Dr. Jacob Daley” called “Death and Taxes”.

I’ll also use this article as an excuse to revisit some of the ideas I shared in my blog article Twisting the Aces Three Ways. I’ll be publishing two alternative presentations for “Twisting the Aces”: the first is “Pasteboard Puppies”, using the four Fours; the second is “Crazy Eights”, using the four Eights (read the blog post for a preview).

For paid subscribers, I’ll also return to a three-trick set from my regular Ruseletter column, Vernonesque. It begins with a rendition of “Underambitious”, a minimalist take on the Ambitious Card. Next comes “Twisting the Numbers”, a version of “Twisting the Aces” that uses the Ace, Two, Three and Four of Diamonds. The set concludes with “Stolen”, my favourite way to present Dr Daley’s Last Trick.

To round things off, I’ll also share five extended routines inspired by these two classic plots:

• “Twist and Snap”—A version of “Twisting the Aces” with a kicker ending involving the entire deck.

• “Twisted Logic”—Another handling that sees each Ace turn face up and then face down again.

• “Pasteboard Puppies Plus”—A version of “Pasteboard Puppies” in which the four “dogs” find a chosen card lost in the deck. 🐕🐕🐕🐕

• “A Tale in the Twist”—A tribute to The Professor that includes a colour-changing-back kicker.

• “A Ghostless Tale in the Twist”—An alternative handling of “A Tale in the Twist” that avoids the Elmsley Count entirely. 🚫👻

Wish me luck on this epic writing adventure—I hope to have all of these written up by the end of April.

Three Videos Worth Watching 👀

As usual, here are three videos that I watched this month. I think you should watch them, too.

Stamper by Alexis De La Fuente

This new printing packet trick from Alexis De La Fuente and Alakazam Magic is exactly the type of small-packet effect that I love. 💖

I particularly appreciate that this can be performed in the hands without a table, making it practical for mix-and-mingle or strolling-style performances.

While this is the newest card trick from Peter Nardi and the Alakafam, this is technically a rerelease. “Stamper” was first released by Alexis three years ago (watch the original release video).

I’ve long enjoyed the video reviews created by Alexis. He releases them in both his native language of French and in English:

🇫🇷 French Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@LesavisdAlexis
🇬🇧 English Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@AlexisReviews

“Stamper” is available from Alakazam Magic for $25 or £22.

Very Wild and Charge It

You may have noticed that the trailer for “Stamper” was filmed at this year’s Blackpool Magic Convention. Here’s another demonstration from the Dealer’s Hall. This time, it’s Christian Schenk of Card-Shark performing Charge It - Next Generation and Very Wild.

The video neatly highlights how you can combine two gaffed packet tricks to cancel out the inherent weaknesses of both effects. Yes, I know the switch using the wallet was rushed, but this was a “dealer dem” where speed was of the essence.

Sh*t Magic Shows

Finally, here’s another fun video from Singapore magician Jeremy Tan. As someone who’s never been to Vegas, I found this a very helpful overview of the current magic scene in Sin City.

Well, that’s another monthly update done and dusted. I can’t quite believe we’re already a quarter of the way through the new year. Oh, well.

Yours Magically,

Marty

My solution is simple: I don’t set resolutions in January. Instead, I delay making them until the Chinese New Year, which falls on the new moon between 21 January and 20 February each year. 🌚 This year, it fell on 17 February.

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I like this approach for three reasons. First, it gives you time to settle into the New Year before making any concrete plans. Second, aligning your intentions with the first new moon of the year feels more appropriate—and, well, magical. Third, the Chinese New Year is celebrated for fifteen days, from the first day of the lunar calendar through to the Lantern Festival, giving you an extended window in which to commit to the changes you most want to make.

This year also carries an added layer of significance for anyone, like me, with a love of folklore: 2026 is the Year of the Fire Horse. 🔥🐎 Appearing only once every sixty years—the last time was 1966—the Fire Horse is widely considered the rarest and most intense animal-element combination in the Chinese zodiac. Fire Horses are said to be charismatic, bold and passionate: qualities any magician, amateur or professional, would do well to cultivate. Whether or not you put any stock in such things, it feels like an auspicious year to raise our magical game.

So, even though Chinese New Year has passed, you still have time to make some magic-related resolutions (the big secret is that you can make habit-change promises to yourself at any time during the year). Here are my main ones for 2026:

1. Build the magic den of my dreams: a proper, dedicated space for creating, practising, rehearsing and sharing my magic.

2. Say yes to more performance opportunities, however small.

3. Deliver Developing Daley, Volume 1—no more delays.

That second resolution is the one I suspect many of you will share. It’s easy to keep learning, keep practising and keep telling yourself you’re not quite ready yet. James Clear, whose work on habits I’ve returned to many times in this newsletter, puts his finger on why this resolution matters:

“Learning more will increase knowledge, but only attempting more will reduce fear. The more you try it, the less you will fear it.”

It’s a reminder that no amount of practice in front of a mirror can substitute for standing in front of real people and performing a magic trick for them. Which brings me to this month’s article.

Recently, I shared two new romantic card tricks inspired by Jane Austen’s novels, which got me thinking about a question recently discussed on The Magician’s Forum: Do Women Really Hate Card Tricks? What started as a few short paragraphs has somehow morphed into a five-thousand-word theoretical essay on gender politics in the world of magic! Enjoy.

Pride, Prejudice & Pasteboards: Do Women Really Hate Card Tricks?

Reading time: 20 minutes

In the discussion, it was noted that Joel Bauer—a successful American magician, trade-show performer and self-proclaimed “infotainer”—believes that many women dislike playing cards. In a recent episode of The Magic Word Podcast with Scott Wells, he made his opinion on the matter abundantly clear (the emphasis is mine):

“Women don’t particularly like cards, and magicians don’t understand that. But if you’re gonna use a deck of cards, use a Tarot deck. They’re interested in that. OH YEAH. It’s totally different, And if you’re gonna do a haunted pack, do a haunted Tarot pack. And tie it in and make it personal. I’m not telling them to be Bizzare. I’m saying you gotta care about the male and female. They’re different.”1

I found this somewhat sweeping statement at odds with my own, admittedly more limited, experience. On the whole, I’ve always found that women are more receptive to magic, wonder and astonishment than the average man. While I don’t disagree with his general advice to make your magic more personal, I think his central premise—that women don’t like cards, and by extension, card tricks or magic in general—doesn’t hold up.

Joel isn’t the first high-profile magician to make such a polarising statement. Writing in his Genii column, “The Vernon Touch”, the Canadian-born close-up maestro Dai Vernon expressed a remarkably similar view as far back as October 1968:

“Talking about doing magic for women, I have lived a long time, and I don’t think really, honestly, I ever met a woman who likes magic… who REALLY likes magic. They’ll watch a card trick to please some guy, but I don’t think they really enjoy watching a card trick.”2

Later in the same column, he added:

“By the way, if there are any normal girls who refute this statement, I hope you’ll write in and let me know.”

The postbag, it seems, was more instructive than Vernon had anticipated. By December 1968, he was already backpedalling a little:

“I was surprised, and at the same time enlightened, by the fact that to date, I have heard from at least three girls who told me that they simply love and adore magic. These may be exceptions to the rule… they are really exceptional girls. I still am not firmly convinced yet. I’ve only known three or four girl magicians like Lady Frances and Celeste Evans. They like magic because they make a living from it. But I mean the average magician’s wife who has to put up with this sort of thing. They learn to hate it. ”3

In 2026, the condescension is jarring and, if I’m honest, a little cringeworthy. Back then, women who liked or even dared to perform magic were not magic enthusiasts or fellow performers—they were anomalies, curiosities, and exceptional enough to write home about. It is worth remembering, though, that Vernon was performing and writing at a time when such attitudes were both tolerated and largely invisible, even to those who held them. He was a product of his era, but at least he was willing to be persuaded.

And persuaded he eventually was. Writing years later, in 1977, from his perch at the Magic Castle, Vernon quietly reversed course:

“In my past days I never felt that the girls especially enjoyed watching a magician but I have changed my thinking since being here. Of course, any effect with a fortune-telling atmosphere to it is doubly enjoyed by the ladies.”4

It is a small yet significant concession. But it matters because what changed Vernon’s mind wasn’t an argument, a theory or a sudden epiphany. It was simply watching women enjoy magic night after night at the Magic Castle.

With this historical example in mind, I can’t help but think that Joel’s general performance advice is right, but for entirely the wrong reasons. You only have to read Jane Austen’s novels to appreciate that women have enjoyed playing cards as a social pastime for centuries. It follows, therefore, that they should also enjoy card magic.

It isn’t the cards women dislike—it’s the chauvinistic performer who treats them as a prop, or worse, as an unpaid magician’s assistant. The problem, in other words, isn’t the pasteboards. It’s the ego behind them. They don’t hate magic—they hate male magicians. And who can blame them when they behave in this way?

Laura London—Inner Magic Circle member, recipient of a standing ovation at the Magic Castle, and one of the finest card mechanics working in Britain today—puts it just as bluntly. Asked for her best advice on approaching strangers and getting them to like you, she was unequivocal:

“Don’t approach people and be arrogant. People don’t like that. People certainly don’t like you telling them that you are some mystic being, either. We’re in [the modern era] now, and nobody believes that we can actually do real magic, so don’t treat your audience like idiots… like fools.”5

This idea has percolated in magic theory circles for some time. In an October 2003 discussion on the long-dormant Usenet group alt.magic.secrets, Hawaiian magician Jim Kawashima reported that fellow illusionist John LeBlanc had relayed a remark attributed to Max Maven: that magic is fundamentally a “power thing”, and that women had, until relatively recently, not been encouraged to be part of the “power sphere”.6 (I cannot verify that characterisation in any published source, and it’s at least two degrees removed from Maven himself, but anyone familiar with his thinking will find it entirely plausible as something he might well have said.)

Detectives & Dreamers

To understand why the ego-driven approach to card magic fails women so consistently, it helps to examine what it does to any audience.

In his essay “Tough Customers” in The Books of Wonder, Volume 1, Dutch-born master magician Tommy Wonder identified the problem with characteristic insight. The magician who presents his work as a challenge—however subtly or unconsciously—pushes his audience into a role they were never meant to play: the detective.

“It is highly desirable not to push spectators into the role of detectives on the trail of your secrets, because it can make your job harder; and, what is more important, it can prevent your audience from experiencing other elements of your performance, elements capable of far greater entertainment potential than mere puzzlery can offer. Good magic has so much more to give than puzzlement.”7

By definition, the detective is adversarial. He is looking for the trick, the method, the moment of deception. He is not there to be moved, delighted, or transported. He is there to catch you out. And the magician who presents his performance as a puzzle, consciously or not, has invited him in and handed him a deerstalker and magnifying glass! 🕵️ (It should be noted that what Tommy Wonder isn’t saying is that we should attempt to eliminate the puzzle element from our tricks entirely, only that we shouldn’t treat them as puzzles to be solved when presenting them to an audience.)

Here is where the question of gender becomes directly relevant, and where we need to be careful, because the argument is easily misread. The claim is not that women are incapable of analytical thinking, or that they are more credulous or more easily impressed than men. The claim is considerably more surprising: that the detective role, as Wonder describes it, is one most women are considerably less inclined to adopt than most men. This difference is cultural rather than innate. Let me explain.

Most male magicians were introduced to magic as young boys, drawn in by the very puzzle element that makes card magic so alienating when it goes awry. The astonishing Ace Assembly, the baffling Two-Card Transposition, or the Card to Impossible Location that defies all logic—these were the things that first captured their imagination. That early enchantment leaves a deep mark, shaping not only how they perform magic but also what they believe magic is: a challenge, a contest, a demonstration of their superior knowledge. The detective is not the enemy to be disarmed. For many male performers, he is, at some level, their ideal audience—because he represents the boy they once were.

Women, on the whole, approach magic differently. They tend to inhabit the role of the dreamer. Without that early card-trick conditioning, they respond less to the puzzle of a magic trick and more to the experience itself—the narrative, the emotional hook, the sense that something mysterious is being shared. They are, in Wonder’s terms, natural dreamers rather than default detectives. And the performer who’s never questioned his boyhood assumptions about what magic is (or should be) will, almost inevitably, fail to meet their needs.

It would, however, be a mistake to push this argument too far. The detective role is not exclusively male. Nor is the dreamer always female. Mark Leveridge—one of Britain’s most experienced close-up professionals and the author of the long-running Chatter blog on magic—discussed this very issue in an August 2004 piece on precisely this subject. He described a woman who had booked him for a corporate dinner. When he approached her group, she promptly told him she couldn’t stand magic and slipped away. Halfway through the meal, she returned; her friends were worried he would skip their table because of what she had said. He went and performed at the table. She watched. Her verdict: “Oh, it drives me crazy because you just can’t see how he’s doing it!” Leveridge diagnosed her as a spectator so fixated on the how of magic that she found it harder to enjoy it for what it is actually meant to be (or, as Mark puts it, the “how” versus the “wow”).8 She was not immune to wonder. She was a frustrated detective and, as Leveridge pointedly noted, a self-identified magic-hater who had booked a magician for her own event.

The same culture that alienates women in the audience also shapes the experience of those who wish to perform magic. Megan Swann—the first woman to serve as President of The Magic Circle and the youngest person ever to hold that office—has described arriving at her first magic club meeting as a ten-year-old:

“As 10-year-old me, little 10-year-old me, quite shy, turning up and seeing this room full of 80 boys who seemed like giants… it was a bit scary. It was a bit of a shock. Fortunately another girl did turn up… and I don’t know quite what would have happened if she hadn’t, because I think 10-year-old me would have been too scared. I probably wouldn’t have come back.”9

Laura London tells a similar story. Walking into the Magic Circle at eighteen, she was about to turn around and leave the profession entirely:

“I walked in and was about to walk out and never come back… it wasn’t that it wasn’t particularly friendly, it’s just I was really out of place.”10

She stayed. She went on to become the youngest ever female member of the Magic Circle, the first elected female Chair of the society, and a Member of the Inner Magic Circle with Gold Star, the club’s highest honour. She has also appeared on Penn & Teller: Fool Us and performed for Her Majesty the Queen at Buckingham Palace. Yet the fact that two of British magic’s most distinguished female practitioners describe the same instinct—to walk away from a room full of male magicians—tells us something important about the culture that room reflected.

Swann did come back, too, of course, and rose to lead the Magic Circle. But most ten-year-old girls, confronted with that room, would not. And the boys who filled it grew into the magicians who now wonder why women don’t enjoy their dull card tricks.

The conditioning runs in both directions, and its consequences are long-lasting. Swann herself is a case in point. “I learned quite soon that card tricks really bored me,” she admitted in the same interview. “I just don’t like card tricks... maybe it’s just from those early days seeing so many card tricks, often done quite badly—maybe it put me off.”11 Here, in one sentence, is the entire arc of this article compressed into a single confession: a woman who loves magic, has devoted her professional life to it, and has risen to lead the most prestigious magical organisation in Britain, has been put off card tricks for life by a succession of thoughtless male performers.

Don’t worry, this is not a counsel of despair. It is, if anything, a golden opportunity. The dreamer is not a lesser audience than the detective. She’s a better one: more open, more responsive, and more willing to participate. The only thing standing between her and a transformative experience of magic is a magician willing to set aside his ego and offer something worthy of the spectator’s wildest dreams.

Pride Before a Fall

So, what does all this have to do with classic romantic literature? Jane Austen is precise about what she means by pride. Mr Darcy’s failing isn’t simple arrogance—it is the complex conviction that his superior knowledge and judgment make him above the need to please others. He doesn’t perform for anyone’s approval. He condescends. And it’s that pride that makes him initially repellent to the very person he most wants to impress in the world.

The parallel with the ego-driven magician is remarkable, almost uncomfortably so. The performer who frames every trick as a puzzle is destined to disappoint. Hoarding his secret knowledge like a private currency, he isn’t performing for the people in front of him. He is performing above them. They are not participants in something wonderful. They are witnesses to his smug superiority. Maven’s “power thing” is, at its root, nothing more than Darcyian pride in a badly fitted dinner jacket doing condescending card tricks.

But here is where Austen’s novel offers much more than a useful metaphor. Mr Darcy doesn’t remain proud. He is humbled—not by defeat, but by the gradual recognition that his pride has made any opportunity for genuine connection impossible. He has to dismantle something fundamental in the way he presents himself to the world before Elizabeth can see him clearly. And only then, stripped of the performance of superiority, does he become someone worth knowing and worthy of her love.

The magician faces exactly the same choice. The tricks don’t change. The methods don’t change. What changes is the relationship the performer offers to the people in front of him—and whether it’s one of condescension or of shared wonder.

So, if ego is what drives the prideful approach to performance, prejudice is what that ego does to the women in the room. Surprisingly, it operates, more often than not, without the performer even noticing…

Performance and Prejudice

I’ve been to enough magic conventions to recognise a troubling pattern that persists to this day. When women are present, they’re almost always the first to be selected as “volunteers”—again and again, by performer after performer. This is particularly obvious when very few women are in attendance, as the same two or three female faces appear on stage repeatedly. What seems like a natural choice—it’s true that women are often warmer, more expressive, better at playing along—looks very different from the audience’s perspective. She’s not being chosen because she’s valued. She’s being chosen for her utility.

I witnessed this at close quarters at one such convention, seated beside a female companion (whom I’d met and befriended earlier that day). A well-known and experienced American cardician performed for us (who shall remain nameless). She was asked to sit beside him and be his spectator. He was technically brilliant.

However, he was entirely oblivious to the negative effect his actions were having on her emotional state. The way he handled her involvement, the casual assumptions he made about her role, and, in particular, the chauvinistic jokes he carelessly made at her expense all indicated that he was performing at her, not for her. When she eventually returned to her seat, she was visibly flustered, red-faced, upset, as well as a little angry at his treatment of her. He never even noticed.

Mark Leveridge identified the same pattern as far back as 2006. Writing at a time when the magic world was far less inclined to discuss such matters openly, he observed that at any major convention, if there is a single woman in the audience, almost every performer who needs an assistant will select her. He was candid about the likely explanation: either it is a male ego thing, or a condescending assumption that a woman is less likely to be a fellow magician and therefore more likely to respond well. Either way, he found both explanations wanting. More pointedly, he noted that women attending magic events still routinely endured sexist jokes, wisecracks and thinly veiled innuendo. He appealed directly to performers to treat female audience members with the respect that might encourage rather than repel them.12 Very good advice indeed.

This gap—between what the performer believes he is offering and what the woman in front of him is actually experiencing—is prejudice in its most precise sense. Not malice. Not even indifference. Simply a judgment formed in advance, before a single card has been selected or silver coin produced: she is here to assist me, to look pretty, to react favourably, to be charmed. To make me look good. Her role has been assigned. And no amount of technical brilliance will compensate for the fact that she has been told, wordlessly but unmistakably, that her place in this exchange is a subordinate one.

Megan Swann has spoken about this assumption with the authority of someone who has encountered it repeatedly, from both sides of the table. Speaking on Craig Petty’s Talk Magic Podcast in 2021, she described the default expectation that greets women in magic circles:

“Just from my experiences being out in the public and even around other magicians, you almost assume that a woman doesn’t do magic—or you assume that they’re the assistants. Because there’s not been that many female role models over the years... Maybe if you go back and look at how women were persecuted as witches, maybe that’s had an effect. And the fact that... once upon a Shakespearean time women couldn’t even go on stage. There is a long history of women not being involved in the performing arts.”13

It’s a prejudice she had encountered long before she reached the upper echelons of the Magic Circle. In an earlier interview, she described the experience of attending magic events as a young woman:

“It’s a pet hate of mine when I meet new people at magic clubs or conventions who first assume I am not a magician, clearly because I am a woman. I get asked if I’m there with someone else, or if I want to see a ‘really simple card trick’ that even I could do.”14

The prejudice, then, is not merely personal. It is historical and institutional. Like all prejudice, however, it flows in both directions.

Just as Elizabeth Bennet’s prejudice against Darcy is a direct response to behaviour she has observed and reasonably generalised, the scepticism many spectators bring to a magic performance is a direct response to a performance culture that, too often, has given them good reason to be wary.

Craig Petty, one of the UK’s most prominent working magicians, has written about this in his trademark no-nonsense style. When an audience member tells him they hate magic, he doesn’t take it personally—because he understands exactly what they mean: “they have seen a cheesy magician with no skill or social skills and have judged all magicians on one performance.”15 The woman who greets you and your tricks with hostility isn’t being unreasonable. She has simply been here before—and the last time, she didn’t enjoy it.

Tommy Wonder identified the same dynamic from the performer’s perspective, with considerably greater analytical precision. In his essay “Tough Customers”, he observed that some spectators arrive already locked into the detective role, not because they are naturally adversarial, but because they have been conditioned:

“Some people are conditioned, have it engraved in their mind, that when they see a magician, they should try to determine how the tricks are done. The moment they know you are a magician, they throw themselves into the role of detective.”16

This is prejudice in its purest form and, like all prejudice, it is not irrational. It is the entirely logical conclusion of accumulated experience. The question Tommy Wonder asks—and the question this article has been pursuing from the beginning—is what the performer can do to dismantle it. His answer is unambiguous:

“If you can transport people out of the role of detective or, better yet, prevent them from entering into that role, you will have done them a good service, since you can then offer them something of much greater interest.”17

The responsibility, in other words, lies with the magician, not the audience. The prejudice flowing back towards the performer is an unforgiving mirror. What it reflects, whether beautiful or ugly, depends entirely on the magician and, ergo, the performance culture that created it.

The Relationship is the Remedy

The remedy to both pride and prejudice in performance is not a different trick, method or technique. It is a different relationship.

Laura London states the principle with the ease of someone who has understood it for years:

“It’s not about the magic, really; it’s about you. If you walk up to a group of people and they like you instantly, then what you do doesn’t matter as long as it’s good and it is entertaining… anybody can learn a trick… you can go into a shop right now, you can buy some really strong great magic, you can learn it in a few days. But if you can learn how to perform it well, that’s really the question… it’s all about presentation.”18

Eugene Burger—one of the most thoughtful performers and writers the magic world has ever produced—put it much the same way, summing it up succinctly in a single sentence:

“Presentation is that point where you put yourself into your magic.”19

It sounds simple. In practice, it is a radical reorientation of the usual performer-participant relationship. The magician who puts himself into his magic is no longer operating from a position of superiority and self-assured smugness. He offers something of himself: his imagination, his sense of wonder, his emotional intelligence. The transaction is no longer adversarial. It is, in the fullest sense, an invitation to astonishment.

Burger developed this idea further in Magic and Meaning, the remarkable book he co-wrote with Robert E. Neale, arguing that card magic is not fundamentally a puzzle to be solved or a demonstration of skill to be admired. Card tricks performed without meaningful presentation, he suggested, fail to engage the audience at the level of their deeper emotional lives—their hopes, fears and dreams. The difference between a “card trick” and “card magic” is the difference between watching and feeling.20

Mark Leveridge reached the same conclusion from a different direction—through a humbling personal experience rather than theory. Early in his career, he entered a close-up competition at a regional convention, confident that his technically accomplished act would carry the day. He lost decisively to a performer whose magic was considerably weaker, yet whose ability to make the audience feel involved and entertained was in a different class. The lesson he drew from that defeat stayed with him: that what an audience ultimately measures is not the quality of your sleight of hand but the quality and depth of the experience you give them.21

Reading all of this in light of everything Vernon and Bauer got wrong, it is clear that women don’t lack the capacity for wonder. They lack the patience for ego. Offer them a trick dressed up as an intellectual challenge—a puzzle designed to make them feel foolish—and, of course, they will disengage. Offer them, instead, an emotional experience that connects with their dreams, hopes, and sense of the mysterious. The response will not be different in degree. It will be different in kind.

It turns out this is not a modern insight. It is not even a particularly radical one. Jane Austen knew it two hundred years ago, and so did Dai Vernon in his later life. The question is whether we, as performers, are willing to act on it.

The presentation that achieves this doesn’t need to be Regency-themed, romantic, or literary. It needs only to offer the spectator something worth feeling—a story, an emotion or a fresh perspective. The theme is, of course, interchangeable. The principle is not.

Which brings me back to the pasteboards.

Two Austen-Inspired Card Tricks

Theory, of course, is only as useful as what you do with it. So let me show you what this looks like in practice. Recently, I’ve been assembling what I’ve come to call “conversational card magic” routines—tricks that can be woven seamlessly into casual conversation, making it easier for amateur magicians to create opportunities to perform more meaningful magic in everyday situations.

Here are two romantic card tricks inspired by Jane Austen’s classic works. The suggested presentations make it easier to transition into a performance when discussing this topic with a friend, colleague, or even a stranger at a bus stop! Asking someone whether they’ve ever read any of Austen’s books is perfectly normal (asking them to pick a card is not). This then gives you the opportunity to talk about the many and varied card games her characters play in her novels, opening up the opportunity for a card magic performance.

“Perfect Partners” is my full-deck handling of Cameron Francis’s “Coupling”, dressed in all the Regency finery of a Jane Austen character. Two spectators are invited to partake in an ancient “love ritual” and, after a sequence of apparently fair choices, find themselves holding the King and Queen of Hearts. No one selects a card. No one is put on the spot. No one is made to feel foolish or singled out. The routine has a strong romantic hook, a surprising kicker ending drawn from the Regency era card game of whist, and—crucially—it gives the two spectators all the glory. The performer is not the hero of this story. They are.

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“In Want of a Wife” does the same for a single spectator—ideally, though not exclusively, a woman—placing her at the centre of a romantic narrative rather than at the receiving end of a magical how-did-they-do-it. The effect, a treatment of Hofzinser’s Royal Marriages, unfolds in four distinct phases, each seemingly more impossible than the last, as the Kings and Queens find their partners through a playful Regency courtship ritual complete with Austen quotations. The method involves the Elmsley Count, a double lift and an Under-Down Deal—none of which are beyond the reach of any intermediate card worker. The mechanics, in other words, are modest. The emotional impact is not.

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What both routines have in common—and what I’d encourage you to look for in any trick you’re considering adding to your repertoire—is that the presentation does the ego-work for you. When your hook is a Regency love story, there’s no room for the performer to position himself as the cleverest person at the table, because cleverness isn’t the point of a love story. The spectator isn’t being challenged, tested, or managed. She’s being invited into something. That shift in framing changes everything about the dynamic between performer and participant. It opens the door to the kind of natural, unhurried conversation that makes card magic feel less like a technical demonstration of skill and more like a shared experience. The trick becomes a reason to talk rather than a barrier to conversation.

This is what I mean by conversational card magic. Not tricks that merely have words attached to them, but tricks whose very structure encourages the performer to listen as well as to speak—to be present with the person in front of him rather than overly focused on the execution of the next move. Austen’s novels work the same way: the card games her characters play are never really about the cards. They are about what the cards allow people to say to each other.

These two examples show that almost any card trick can be presented in a way that makes it more appealing to women. While not all women enjoy classic romantic literature, a Regency theme is more likely to resonate with a female audience than a standard gambling-themed trick, such as an Ace-cutting routine. The problem was never the pasteboards. It was never even the women. It was the story we chose to tell with them—and whether that story had room to include the people sitting across the table from us.

Conclusion

So, do women hate card tricks?

Joel Bauer thinks so. Dai Vernon thought so for a large portion of his life. Many of the contributors to alt.magic.secrets thought so, some with a fervour that said considerably more about themselves than about women.

The evidence, I would suggest, points elsewhere—and it comes from women themselves.

Megan Swann was nearly frightened away from magic at ten by a roomful of boys who didn’t know she existed. Laura London walked into The Magic Circle at eighteen and was on the verge of walking straight back out because she didn’t feel she belonged. Thankfully, both women stayed. Both went on to lead distinguished careers. But here is the question worth pondering: how many didn’t? How many women endured one too many card tricks done badly, performed by one too many men who treated them as props rather than participants, and simply decided that magic wasn’t for them?

Women don’t hate card tricks. They hate being condescended to. They hate being managed, manipulated and assigned a supporting role in someone else’s ego-trip thinly disguised as a magic trick. They hate the bad jokes, the sexist patter and the boring presentations. And they are entirely right to hate all of these things—because this isn’t what card magic, any magic, should be like.

What women respond to—what, if we’re honest, everyone responds to—is a performer who offers something beyond his own cleverness. A performer who understands that the trick is not the be-all and end-all; that the presentation matters; and that the person sitting across the table from him is not an obstacle to be overcome but a guest to be welcomed. A man who has, in short, grown up and no longer acts like a boy.

Austen understood this. Hofzinser understood this. Eugene Burger spent a lifetime trying to help the rest of us understand it. Laura London and Megan Swann have been demonstrating it—not in theory, but in practice, in real rooms, before real people, night after night.

Finally, I’d like you, dear reader, to consider the following tongue-in-cheek aphorism:

All the cards are on the table. The question is simply whether we’re willing to set our pride and prejudice aside long enough to find one.

Three Videos Worth Watching 📼

And, as usual, here are three videos worth watching.

Learn Josh Burch’s Three Queens Card Trick

Learn a fun, self-working card trick from Eric Tait and Penguin Magic. 🐧 The method is a good one, but the trick needs a better presentation than the one shown in the video.

If you’re a fan of the 2002 film Minority Report, starring Tom Cruise and directed by Steven Spielberg, you could use a red Queen and the two black Jacks to represent Agatha, Arthur, and Dash—the “precogs” in the film. Somehow, they’re able to predict the future (the number of cards left in your hand).

Learn Josh Burch’s “Pincode” Card Trick

Here’s another solid self-working trick in want of better presentation. Josh Burch employs a “pincode” premise to justify the method’s mathematical basis, which is probably a stronger way to present this than Eric’s suggestions in the video (though his teaching is excellent). The method is, perhaps, more intriguing than the effect. It is based on Jim Steinmeyer’s “The Nine Card Problem”.

If you want to learn more about the underlying mathematics—it’s an application of the COATing (Count Out And Transfer) principle from Colm Mulcahy—I recommend reading this article and watching this video. A better trick for three participants using the same principle is Diamond Jim’s Insanely Easy Card Trick.

Ryan Pilling’s Magic Homework #8

Finally, here is the latest video in Ryan Pilling’s fantastic Magic Homework series. Derek Dingle’s “Too Many Cards” is very similar to a trick I’m working on at the moment—Larry Jennings’ “Ambitious Classic”—so I really enjoyed this episode. I think you will too.

You can watch all episodes of Ryan’s Magic Homework on his Tips & Tricks for Magicians YouTube channel.

I hope you enjoyed this month’s long-form essay. If you find this format enjoyable, I might continue writing more. Please let me know by replying to this email or posting a comment in the Substack section.

Yours Magically,

Marty

This instalment features a memorable trick called “In Want of a Wife”, a romantic, Austen-inspired treatment of Hofzinser’s Royal Marriages. 👰

It’s similar in theme and effect to “Perfect Partners”, the routine I shared a few days ago (see A Letter of Some Consequence). While it requires a modicum of sleight of hand (an Elmsley Count and a double lift), it isn’t at all difficult to perform. I hope you’ll love it as much as I do. ❤

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📋 Quick Reference

• Effect Type: Small-Packet Coincidence Effect

• Difficulty: ★★★☆☆ (Intermediate)

• Audience Size: Close-up/Parlour

• Duration: 3-5 minutes

• Setup Time: Minimal

• Reset Time: Instant

• Props: A standard pack of playing cards

• Key Moves & Principles: Elmsley Count, Double Lift, Under-Down Deal

Regular Ruseletter readers will know that I’ve been quietly assembling a repertoire of romantic card tricks suitable for weddings, anniversaries, Valentine’s Day performances, and intimate social gatherings. (See Easy Does It #4: Sixpence Ceremony, Easy Does It #7: Simplex Soulmates, Easy Does It #8: Double Happiness, and Easy Does It #9: Algorithmic Love for previous examples.)

“In Want of a Wife” is a natural addition to this collection—but it’s also something a little different. While most of my romantic tricks are designed for couples, this one is designed specifically for a single spectator: ideally, an avid reader of Jane Austen’s novels. (It can also be adapted to be performed for a couple, of course.)

What Makes This Trick So Special?

Because “In Want of a Wife” requires no pre-arrangement, you can perform it with a borrowed deck at a moment’s notice. There’s no setup to remember, no secret stack to maintain, and no specially prepared cards or props to carry. All you need is a standard deck and the presence of mind to recall the simple sequence of moves that make the trick work.

While the routine isn’t self-working, the Under-Down Deal does most of the heavy lifting for you. No sleight of hand is required beyond the Elmsley Count and the double lift, both of which are within reach of any intermediate card worker. In addition, the Regency courtship preamble provides natural, engaging misdirection during the technically sensitive moments of the routine (the discrepant false count sequences).

Once the first match-up is revealed, many Royal Marriage effects become predictable, repetitive and even a little dull. The rich, historic presentation gives this effect an emotional resonance that audiences can connect with. The romantic theme is universally recognised, even by people who’ve never read the novel. In other words, this is a trick that appeals to a broad audience of all ages.

Finally, the effect builds beautifully across four distinct phases, each one seemingly more impossible than the last. The final line leaves audiences with something to take away beyond the coincidence of the cards matching.

Hay’s Paradox, Revisited

Regular readers will recall my discussion of Henry Hay’s Paradox of Practice in Easy Does It #8, where I introduced the concept of “easy hard tricks”—easy or self-working effects that are technically simple to perform but require significant time and effort to present in a compelling manner.

“In Want of a Wife” is a classic example of an easy hard trick. The mechanics are straightforward. The Under-Down Deal is completely self-working. The Charlier Shuffle requires no advanced skill whatsoever. Even the Elmsley Count and double lift are within comfortable reach of most card workers (after a modest amount of practice).

However, the presentation is rich and multilayered. The Regency courtship patter, the Austen quotations, and the “Love me, love me not…” elimination ritual all require thought, rehearsal, and genuine investment to deliver convincingly. The good news is that I’ve done much of that work for you. The basic script is written. The quotations are sourced. The misdirection is built in. Your job is to make it your own.

And that, as Henry Hay would remind us, is where the real magic happens.

Who Is This Trick For?

“In Want of a Wife” will resonate most powerfully with fans of Jane Austen’s novels—and there are more of them than you might think. Pride and Prejudice alone has sold over 20 million copies worldwide. The 1995 BBC adaptation starring Colin Firth remains one of the most beloved costume dramas ever made. Even people who’ve never read a word of Austen will almost certainly recognise the dashing Mr Darcy and headstrong Elizabeth Bennet.

The trick truly shines when performed for someone who knows and loves the story—at a book club, a literary dinner, a Pride and Prejudice viewing party, or simply for a friend who owns more Penguin Classics than kitchen utensils. This is your opener, or a charming transition between stronger pieces.

For someone less familiar with the novels, it works equally well—it’s simply a beautiful romantic effect with a compelling narrative. Either way, the emotional impact is the same. I hope it might even encourage some spectators to pick up a copy of Pride and Prejudice.

And before you ask: yes, men are absolutely allowed to read Austen. Mr Darcy himself would almost certainly have approved!

This is the kind of trick that gets remembered. Not because the method is clever—though it is—but because it tells a heartwarming story. As I’ve said before, to paraphrase Maya Angelou, people may forget what you did, but they will never forget how you made them feel.

One Final Thought

At their heart, many of Jane Austen’s novels are about courtship, marriage and the elusive “happily ever after”. So is Hofzinser’s Royal Marriages plot. That’s what they have in common: both Austen and Hofzinser understood that the most satisfying stories are those in which everyone finds their perfect match. The Queens find their Kings. Lizzie finds her Darcy. And I hope your audience finds a little of that same quiet magic, drawn from a more genteel age that has long since disappeared.

As Austen herself might have observed, it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a magician in possession of a good trick, must be in want of a great presentation.

“In Want of a Wife” is, I humbly suggest, both.

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Yours Magically,

Marty

I write to you in a state of some excitement, having recently concluded a most agreeable correspondence with Mr. Warren, a gentleman of discerning taste and a valued patron of the Ruseletter, on the subject of a rather ingenious and delightfully romantic card trick by a Mr. Cameron Francis, entitled “Coupling”. You will find it documented in Out of Sleight, and, more recently, published within the pages of John Carey and Friends, Volume 2. Should you be unacquainted with it, I urge you most sincerely to remedy the situation at your earliest convenience.

It was Mr. Warren’s enthusiastic approbation of the trick that set my own mind to work. While I confess to a genuine admiration for the original, I could not help but feel that it might bear a fuller handling—one worthy of a complete pack of cards—and, moreover, that it deserved a presentation of greater romantic consequence. The result of these deliberations is “Perfect Partners”, which I humbly offer to your repertoire as a token of my earnest esteem.

The presentation is, I venture to say, an example of what I have taken to calling “conversational card magic”—that agreeable style of conjuring in which the performance is woven so naturally into polite conversation that one’s audience scarcely perceives the distinction between the two. The conversation in question concerns the works of a Miss Jane Austen and the Regency card game of whist—a most fitting subject, as the trick’s denouement involves thirteen cards, which is precisely the number dealt to each player in a hand of whist. Should you have long sought an occasion to introduce Miss Austen into your card work—and I cannot imagine who among us has not—I believe you will find this trick most satisfactory.

I have taken the liberty of composing a lengthy blog post on the romantic connections between whist, classic literature, and the conjuring arts, should you find yourself at leisure to peruse it. Alternatively, you may proceed directly to the free tutorial. The requirements are modest: an overhand shuffle and a Swivel Cut. Nothing that should tax a person of your obvious accomplishments in card table artifice.

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And should Valentine’s Day happen to find you in want of a suitable romantic diversion—well, the timing, I think, could scarcely be improved upon. ❤

I would also venture to solicit your opinions by way of the Ruseletter Reader Survey, should you find yourself possessed of a spare moment or two. Your candid reflections on this newsletter are, I assure you, received with the utmost gratitude and will be carefully attended to.

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I remain, dear Reader, your most humble and obedient servant in matters of cards and conjuring.

Yours Magically,

Mr. Jacobs

P.S. Attentive readers will have observed that this letter is written in the style of Jane Austen’s personal correspondence—a small indulgence, given the subject matter. Should you wish to explore the real thing, her letters are available to read in full at The Republic of Pemberley. Several original letters also survive in the collection at Jane Austen’s House Museum in Chawton, Hampshire—including a delightful letter written the day after Pride and Prejudice was first published, in which Austen describes reading it aloud to an unsuspecting neighbour without revealing that she was the author. One rather suspects she would have made an excellent magician!

For those wishing to acquaint themselves further with Austen’s correspondence, I would also commend this charming video from the Morgan Library and Museum’s exhibition “A Lively Mind: Jane Austen at 250”, in which co-curators Dale Stinchcomb and Juliette Wells discuss some of their favourite letters—offering a most agreeable introduction to the wit, warmth, and quiet determination of the woman behind the novels.

As I’ve not been able to practise and perform magic this month, I’ve been concentrating on improving the way I capture, store and organise my thoughts on magic. Or, put another way, I’ve been getting my magical ducks in a row! 🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆

So far, I’ve created a new “magic tricks” database in Notion, a popular note-taking and productivity app, to keep track of all my ideas. I’ve done this to have a single central location for my magical notes and ideas. I was prompted to do this because I’ve been getting frustrated with all the half-formed ideas whirling around in my head, and the random notes scattered across multiple note-taking apps (including Trello, Google Docs, Google Keep, and Zoho Notebook). All these tools are great, and I like them; however, Notion lets me keep all my ideas and notes in a central database I can search, filter, and reorder as I see fit—basically, it’s better for my purposes because it is more customisable (the downside is that it’s a little more complicated to learn how to use the platform). There are 260 entries in the database so far! And that’s not even everything (I still have some ideas in electronic documents and physical notebooks to add).

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In addition, I’ve decided to migrate my GTD lists to Notion. GTD (Getting Things Done) is the “stress-free” productivity system I use at work to manage my tasks and projects; you can learn more about how I use it for magic-based projects in Monthly Update #29.

A few of the notes I transferred are not much more than a trick title accompanied by a few words, and, unfortunately, I can’t remember how to perform the effects they describe. For example, “Aristotle’s Prediction” and “The Curse of the Dead Man’s Hand!” both sound like great tricks, but I’ll be damned if I can remember anything about them beyond their intriguing titles! I assume the latter involved the black Aces and Eights in some way; I have a misty memory of it being a pseudo-gambling demonstration that began with the four Aces, and I think the former was a self-working prediction effect. Hopefully, using a single database to capture, clarify and organise all my magic ideas and notes will avoid such problems in the future.

Ruseletter Reader Survey

I’ve created a brief reader survey to help shape the future of this newsletter. Please help me make the Ruseletter better by completing it. It should take no more than five minutes to answer the questions. If you don’t want to answer a particular question, you can leave it blank.

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I’ll leave the survey open until the end of February and send a couple of reminders before closing it to responses. I’d appreciate it if you could complete it as soon as you’re able.

Learn Algorithmic Love 🤖💖

Even though writing has been a little tricky since my accident, I managed to publish another edition of Easy Does It (this one is for paid subscribers). In the article, I share a cute card trick called “Algorithmic Love” in which the “Aussie Algo” is used to locate the King and Queen of Hearts (and the rest of the Hearts, in sequential order, as a surprise kicker).

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What a SHAME!

Recently, I’ve been pondering the problematic way magic tricks are marketed, promoted, and sold to amateur (or hobbyist) magicians. If you’re a regular reader of the Ruseletter, you’ll know I often get a little grumpy about such things. This quote from James Clear, author of Atomic Habits, neatly explains exactly why the current magic marketplace bothers me so much:

“The more you create, the more powerful you become. The more you consume, the more powerful others become.”

— James Clear

There’s nothing wrong with buying magic tricks regularly; I enjoy doing it myself. It can also fuel creative thought and activity. However, if that’s all you do—buy tricks, barely practise them, and seldom perform them—what’s the point of keeping magic, a performance art, as a hobby?

Now, if you’re content collecting tricks and hoarding secrets, then that is, of course, a legitimate way to enjoy magic as a hobby (I’m not convinced it’s the most rewarding, however). You’re a “Magic Enthusiast” or a “Magic Fan”, and there’s no shame in that (see my Taxonomy of Magic Engagement for more on this topic). And, as far as I’m concerned, you’re welcome to call yourself a magician.

This behaviour becomes a problem only when buying and collecting hinder your personal progress, resulting in a severe case of SHAME (Secret Hoard of Abandoned Magic Effects).

A recent video by The Underperforming Hobbyist captures this dynamic perfectly. In it, Fred describes himself as a “collector of possibilities” surrounded by “unused miracles” that he bought but never performed. It is a relatable, honest admission that highlights the trap many of us fall into. (I’ve embedded it at the bottom of this newsletter, if you want to watch it—I recommend that you do.)

But a modern magic marketplace that almost exclusively caters to this “collector compulsion” has created a toxic environment for those of us who also want to study, practise, and perform. Much like the modern food industry, which surrounds us with highly palatable, hyperprocessed—yet nutritionally bankrupt—food products, the magic industry surrounds us with tempting tricks that look amazing in the trailer but are often disappointing, of poor quality, and, worst of all, artistically shallow.

This situation brings to mind Neil Postman’s warning in Amusing Ourselves to Death. He argued that while George Orwell feared those who would ban books, Aldous Huxley feared that no ban would be necessary—because no one would want to read one in the first place. Huxley feared that “what we love will ruin us.” 💔

In the magic community, we’re not starved of secrets; we’re drowning in them. We risk becoming a culture of “trivial amusement” rather than meaningful art, distracted by the shiny novelty of the latest release while our fundamental skills wane and, in some cases, waste away completely.

This toxic environment creates additional friction, making it even harder to “eat healthy”—to study, practise, and grow as a performing magician. As James Clear notes:

“Success is often found by practising the fundamentals everyone knows they should be doing, but find too boring or basic to practice routinely.”

— James Clear

The ever-increasing cost of magic is also a growing concern for me. We often hear magic creators argue that high prices prevent magic from “falling into the wrong hands”, becoming a “cheap consumer product”, or diluting or even damaging the “art of magic”—I disagree.

High prices don’t protect the art; they simply turn magic tricks into a luxury commodity. When a single effect costs £65 and relies on FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) marketing, it restricts access to that magic, reduces diversity, and contributes to the ongoing hyperconsumerism of magic as a hobby. In short, it just makes matters worse.

Of course, consumers of magic products, myself included, must share some of the blame. We have to stop succumbing to the “sugar rush” of the next secret and start investing in the more “nutritious” behaviour of learning, practising, and performing the tricks we already own.

Three Videos Worth Watching

Finally, here are three more videos I recommend.

Is Anyone Else Just Collecting Magic?

Duration: 9 minutes

This candid video perfectly captures the concept of CUPS (Compulsive Uncontrollable Purchasing Syndrome), resulting in SHAME (Secret Hoard of Abandoned Magic Effects). In it, Fred offers a brutally honest look at how easily the quick thrill of a purchase can replace the actual work of performing.

Danny Goldsmith on “Angle-Sensitive” Coin Magic

Duration 52 minutes

If you’re looking for that “nutritious” content I mentioned earlier, look no further than this video. Instead of pitching a new trick, Danny Goldsmith—a phenomenal coin magician—shares some of the “real work”: the nuances of angle management. The best part? In a market obsessed with premium pricing, this almost hour-long masterclass is completely FREE. Thanks, Danny!

Buatier de Kolta’s Vanishing Lady Explained

Duration: 6 minutes

If you think the “cheapening” of magic is a modern phenomenon, then think again. In this beautifully produced video essay, the Art of Impossible channel explores the tragedy of Buatier de Kolta’s “Vanishing Lady” illusion. It’s a fascinating case study on how a masterpiece of intellect and precision was copied, commodified, and ultimately ruined by hack performers who treated it as a product rather than art. Sound familiar? 😉

That’s all for another month.

Yours Magically,

Marty

P.S. I’ll try my best to be less grumpy in my next update, but I’m not promising anything!

Welcome to another edition of Easy Does It, a regular Ruseletter column about simple (and sometimes self-working) magic tricks that you can learn to impress your friends and family.

In this article, I’m sharing a trick called “Algorithmic Love” that’s been in my notebook for so long that I’d completely forgotten about it! As I’ve published several similar routines recently, I thought it made sense to release this one into the wild as well.

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While I design most of my tricks primarily with the amateur magician in mind, I also strive to make them robust enough for the professional performer. For example, this piece would work particularly well as an opening effect for the bride and groom on their wedding day, or as part of a longer Valentine’s Day-themed parlour show.

“Algorithmic Love” is based on a bizarre magick effect I published more than two years ago, “A Swindle of Souls”, which, in turn, was inspired by the Max Maven masterpiece, “Wagers of Sin” (see Tricks, Tricks & More Tricks #2: Satanic Sorcery to learn my variation).

If you enjoyed “Double Happiness”, the routine I published in the last edition of this column (see Easy Does It #8), I’m confident you’ll also enjoy this offering. It shares a similar theme and is equally easy to perform. Furthermore, the presentational framework of “Algorithmic Love” provides a relatable narrative that turns the most boring part of the trick—the procedure—into the most interesting part of the experience. Even if you don’t like the provided method, you can lift the presentation and use it with a different trick.

Here’s what happens:

You shuffle the cards—some face up, some face down—creating a random jumble that represents the chaotic and overwhelming world of online dating. You explain that the first step on any dating app is to “filter out the noise.” Accordingly, you remove all the face-down cards and eliminate the face-up ones. A quick “Deal or Switch?” shuffle further randomises the packet.

Next, the spectator performs a Down-Under Deal, or, as you playfully dub it, the “Australian Algorithm.” This procedure randomly selects one card: the King of Hearts.

The cards are given another quick mix. You explain that the “Aussie Algo” must now find a compatible match for the King. The spectator repeats the elimination procedure, and when the final card is revealed, it’s the Queen of Hearts—a perfect pair!

You spread the remaining cards face up across the table: every card is a Heart, arranged in perfect sequence from Ace to Jack. As well as facilitating a royal romance, the algorithm has brought perfect order to the chaotic world of online dating!

In many ways, this routine is similar to my packet trick “Loved Eightfold” (see Tricks, Tricks & More Tricks #3: Soulmate Sorcery), but it doesn’t rely on the Count-Back Force (10-20 Force) and uses thirteen cards instead of eight, which makes the final display a little more impressive because more cards are spread across (or dealt to) the table.

If you’re an experienced cardician, you can likely deduce the method from the description of the effect above. Although it is essentially self-working, I believe the handling is deeply deceptive for a lay audience.

Note: As this is an odd-numbered edition of Easy Does It, the trick tutorial is exclusively available to paying subscribers. However, I operate a freeven publishing model, which guarantees all even-numbered issues of this series will be free to read forever.

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Ready to learn “Algorithmic Love”? Keep scrolling to learn the trick.

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The wound did not require stitches, but I still had the pleasure of dragging the whole family to the A&E (Accident and Emergency) department—the ER for my friends in the States—on Christmas Day. The cut was deeper than I first thought, and the bleeding proved impossible to stop with a tea towel and the usual magical incantations at home. Nothing says happy holidays like the sterile glow of a hospital waiting room!

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Needless to say, I have not been able to pick up a pack of cards or write much this past week. While typing is not strictly out of the question, it is very uncomfortable to do for any length of time.

Thankfully, it doesn’t appear that I’ve done any serious damage to my thumb, and I should be able to remove the dressing in a couple of days. Until then, my card handling is limited to looking at the deck and sighing heavily!

Soulmate Sorcery 👰🤵

Luckily, before I had my festive accident, I did manage to finish writing up thirteen new card routines with a romantic “soulmates” theme. These tricks are ideally suited for weddings and other romantic settings.

If you need some New Year reading material, look no further than this bumper edition of Tricks, Tricks & More Tricks.

Read the Article

(You can also access all the new tricks via links on my blog, Marty’s Bag of Tricks.)

‘Tis the Season to be Wrapping 🎁

Watching three daughters tear into their Christmas presents is one of the great joys of being a parent. The downside, of course, is that I must wrap almost every one of them (except those delivered by the “big man in red”, who can, unlike me, outsource wrapping responsibilities to his little helpers). To make matters worse, relatives often send unwrapped gifts via Amazon to avoid paying for delivery twice; understandable, but a little annoying nonetheless.

Despite our best efforts not to spoil the girls, the sheer volume of presents usually necessitates a mammoth festive wrap-a-thon, and this year was no different. As I was furiously cutting, folding, and sticking, it struck me: a magic trick is a great deal like a Christmas present.

You may spend hours meticulously wrapping a gift, only to watch it get ripped apart in seconds by an excitable child. In the same way, we magicians spend weeks, months, or even years scripting, practising, and rehearsing a piece of magic, only for it to be over in a matter of minutes (or, in some extreme cases, a few seconds).

Yet the effort remains worth it for that shared sense of anticipation. Whether it is a wrapped box or a conjuring trick, the joy lies in the fleeting moment of surprise and delight that follows the gift’s unwrapping or the effect’s magical revelation.

Three Videos Worth Watching

And finally, here are three more videos that I think are worth watching this month.

Blaine on a Plane ✈️

Duration: 2 minutes

This video of David Blaine performing his version of Eddie Fetcher’s “Be Honest, What Is It?” is an excellent lesson in adapting your sleight of hand to a challenging performance environment (he’s surrounded and being filmed by multiple people).

Watch the Video

I also like the way he incorporated a psychological number force into the trick; something I might try in the future.

H2O by Juan Colas

Duration: 4 minutes

I recently bought this trick by Juan Colas and Ellusionist. It is his excellent handling of Anthony Owen’s “Ultimate Oil and Water”, a card plot I usually find quite boring!

Fan Fundamentals with Biz

Duration: 33 minutes

I’m a big fan of flourishes, and while they can sometimes distract from the magic, I think, when used judiciously, they can also enhance it. For this reason, I was excited to see that Biz and Big Blind Media are planning to release a series of YouTube videos to create a Cardistry Bootcamp.

Here’s the first video in the series, on fans. Of course, I’ll have to wait until next month to take advantage of this and practise my thumb fans!

My thumb is getting a little sore, so I think that’s enough typing for now. Wishing all my Ruseletter readers a healthy, happy, and prosperous New Year! 🥳

Yours Magically,

Marty