When I was young, the pursuit of magic was a daily adventure. I was nearly obsessed with tapping into some unknown ability, like a Jedi, that when unleashed would undoubtedly solve my problems. Of course, my love of fantasy fueled this preoccupation. I saturated my imagination with books that reiterated my convictions: magic was possible, it was just a matter of finding it. At about the age of twelve, I started writing what could (technically at least) be considered novels (though nothing was ever finished). And magic was everywhere; I remember how intoxicating it was to create a world for the first time, drawing a map, and developing magic. Of…