If a little boy at your local farmers' market suddenly sprouted a curly pig's tail, what would you do? Would you:

a) Call an ambulance / call the media / call the police? [you are probably not in a genre novel] b) Wave your magic wand, call your dragon-steed, and fly to a place where little boys only ever sprouted lovely peacocks' tails and never pigs' tails? [you are in a fantasy novel] c) Think, "that's odd," then ask a nearby stall-holder if limes are back in season? [you are in a magical realism novel]

I was invited by the lovely Laura at The Book Tree to write a guest post on her blog. So I did a little metaphorical head-scratching, then came up with a theme I wanted to share. To whit: life, my friends, is a magical realism novel. And  you can read it here.