When I saw the contrails light up with sunset fire the other night, I knew then what I would call the blog post for it.
Various things (read: deadlines, phone calls and meetings) conspired to keep me from posting this for a couple of days. But I’d been turning the phrase over in my head. Magic bunny ears of fire. I don’t know why. I liked the cadence of it and the image. The whimsy. It entertained me to wind the words around.
This, more than anything else, is the way in which writers are crazy.
When a writer has that far-off fuzzy look? Never ask what she’s thinking, because she’ll say something like: I’m thinking about the phrase “magic bunny ears of fire.” Which I suspect would be a conversation-killer.
Of course, if we’re in a sensible frame of mind, we won’t answer that way. My standard is something like: oh, I’m just noodling over what I’m going to write on my blog.
Magic bunny ears of fire!
And, in another way that I suspect most writers do, this phrase matched up in my head with a song lyric from They Might Be Giants: Sapphire bullets of pure love.
I’m thinking of a story now, surreal and whimsical, where sapphire bullets of pure love rain through the magic bunny ears of fire.
And THIS, my friends, is why so many of us are incapable of writing to market. Can you imagine pitching this image to an agent or editor?
No no no.
But I might write it anyway.
Otherwise the Magic Bunny Ears of Fire will never leave me alone…