One thing that always seems very popular in children’s books that feature magic, are items that can render the holder invisible. Whether it’s a cloak in Harry Potter or a ring in The Hobbit, these things always seem to give a boost to the level of excitement in a story, and it’s not just in children’s books, either. There’s clearly something very powerful about being able to render yourself invisible to others and to be able to move through the world, unseen.
Speaking of things that render the user invisible, a new chair arrived in our house a few months ago – well, not new, but new to us – and it’s found itself a home in the corner in the living room. For some bizarre reason that no one seems able to explain, when the dog sits in it, no one notices him there. The first few times that I realized that I didn’t know where he was, I ran round the house calling his name and searching in a panic. Had he escaped out of the front door with the intention of bolting to the shop and stealing a packet of sausages, cartoon-style? Was he upstairs, busily tearing up all the clothes he could drag out of the laundry basket? Was he out in the back garden, digging up all the bulbs that I’d spent ages planting? Or was he in the kitchen, sneaking the last biscuit out of the tin…?
Then eventually I’d spot him, curled up in the chair, his chin raised in interest but otherwise silent and still, as he watched me dashing about and calling for him in a progressively louder and louder voice. We don’t seem able to learn, either. Several times a week he still catches us off guard, sending me into a panic that he’s either run away to sea or been dog-napped by an evil gang, until finally I remember about the chair of invisibility and I turn to see him sat there, watching me through perplexed, narrowed eyes.
After this experience, I can see (or rather not see!) first-hand, how invisibility definitely adds excitement and drama to a situation, and I’m starting to wonder whether I should write a story that features invisibility. Maybe I’ll ask the dog’s opinion – if I can find him, that is. Now, wherever can he have got to…?
Catherine Rosevear 