My third book, The Gargoyle at the Gates, is dedicated to my brother.
The dedication says:
"To my brother, Christopher, creator of the tin foil fairy."
My brother is six years older than me, and he's one of the reasons I write stories of magic realism for children. I think magic realism (which I studied in university, and have loved ever since) is a perfect fit for a children's author: write about one magical element in an otherwise perfectly realistic world, offer no explanation of that magical element, and expect readers to suspend their disbelief and go along for the ride. In a perfect writing world, you would use that magical element as a metaphor for whatever it is you are trying to get at.
Think of a talking pig, or a letter-writing spider, or a mouse born into a perfectly normal family on Park Avenue. Think of an angel blowing in on a stormy night, or an Indian that comes to life in a boy's cupboard.
Think, perhaps, of a gargoyle living in a park in downtown Toronto.
And why do I love magic realism so? One night, many years ago, my brother convinced me (CONVINCED ME) that fairies are real. If you'd like to read how, here's my blog post about it: "The Tin Foil Fairy.
Also, here is a perfectly lovely review of The Gargoyle at the Gates, from FernFolio. Thank you!