What's the Worst Thing About: The MultiNotes App

For just the fourth time since I made the offer four years ago that someone has taken me up on the offer to discuss the worst thing about a product they’re releasing.

This time it’s the MultiNotes app from Antonio Ferrara.

What Is It?

It’s an app that mimics the iPhone notes app and allows you to use it for up to eight multiple-outs.

For example (for shitty example), I show you a note in my phone called “The number you’ll name.”

I say: “Name a number between 1 and 8.”

You say two and I open the note and it says:

Then, you begin to worship me as a god.

No, again, that was a simple (and bad) example simply to explain the concept.

The way it works is the note preview is broken up into different sections. Depending on where you tap to open the note, it opens that out for you.

The Good

• To my eyes, it looks pretty much just like the real Notes app. (I’ll admit, that I often don’t pick up on it when people say an app looks out of date.)

• It’s a true utility app, with endless potential uses.

• It’s pretty straightforward to set up new notes/outs, and you can set up an unlimited amount.

• You’ll be able to do a number of routines without needing to carry anything else that you don’t usually have with you,

The Bad

• It’s iPhone only. (But if you’re an Android user and complaining about this still, move on. Or get an iPhone.)

• With 8 outs, it requires a little bit of effort to make sure you’re tapping the preview in the right spot. It’s not difficult. And I haven’t actually ever screwed it up in practice. But you can’t just reach over while they’re holding the phone and tap the note open for them (at least not with 8 outs).

• Adding pictures to your notes is (not yet?) possible with the app.

The Worst

Here are two things that could be considered the “worst” thing about MultiNotes.

1. Everything else being equal, a prediction that’s on your phone is just inherently weaker than the same prediction in hard copy.

2. While I described the app as having “endless potential uses,” those uses are limited to a 1 in 8 (at most) routine, when this app is used in isolation. It will take some good planning to create a routine that uses this for the sole methodology and has a significant impact on the spectator.

That being said, for me the good far outweighs the bad and I would recommend this to anyone who thinks they might ever have a need for it.

Yes, in my utopia, a prediction trick would end with a physical prediction. But, physical predictions and multiple outs means multiple physical outs. I have to weigh that against the fact that this allows you to do multiple-out effects without having multiple physical predictions. (In fact, it allows you to do multiple multiple-out effects without carrying gimmicked wallets and slips of paper.)

And while I think it’s rare for one-in-a-few effects to be super-powerful by themselves, I think using this as a part of an effect will prove to be very useful. For example, you know I like doing tricks that are supposedly based on instructions for old games and rituals. Being able to change the instructions I need based on something the spectator has said or done can be very useful.

As I play with this some more, I’ll keep you updated on what prove to be the best uses for this. If this app grows a wide user base, like DFB, I think you’ll find a lot of good ideas coming out for it.

More details can be found here.

No Sidetracking

Here’s a video of Craig Petty performing some shitty key prediction trick. (It’s not his trick.)

The trick itself is wildly flawed. Unless you have late-stage Parkinson’s disease, there would never be that much pen movement involved with writing down a number.

And you end up with the goofiest reveal in the history of magic. A digital read out sticker (with clearly markered-out lines) on the back of a wooden key tag.

This trick has TWAT nomination all over it.

While the trick is obviously room-temperature dog vomit, I want to talk about his presentation, because he does something I see magicians do a lot. I have no idea if Craig would perform it like this in real life. Probably not. But it’s illustrative of something I have seen people do in real life, and I think it goes against what you’re striving for with magic.

Well, I can’t really say that, can I? I can only say that it goes against what I’M shooting for with my magic.

So Craig starts off the trick and then 45 seconds in, he veers off into a three-minute story about some shitty place he stayed at once and kid’s underwear. (I think? I didn’t quite follow it.)

He tries to bring it back around to the trick at the end by saying, “The reason I'm telling you that is because this place actually used um these old-fashioned style keys.”

That’s a very tenuous (some would say nonexistent) connection between the trick and the story.

You might think, “Well, it’s a funny story. So who cares if it has anything to do with the trick. People like funny stories.”

Yes, okay. And if you’ve been hired to be “The Entertainer,” then mixing your tricks with stories and jokes may be the way to go.

But social performing is not about being an entertainer. It’s about the experience, the mystery, the interaction, the interesting or fascinating object or idea. When it becomes about you, that’s when it starts to feel a little desperate. (Whereas in a professional performing environment it is about you.)

I think some people think that since it’s meant to be casual, then of course you might go off on a tangential story, or tell a joke, or dig deep into their opinions about things.

But what I’ve found is that if you want people to feel like what you’re showing them is fascinating, then you need to present it like you’re showing them something fascinated.

Think of it like this… If I had video evidence of a ghost on my phone, and I started showing it to you, and I was making jokes and commenting on the wallpaper in the video and pausing and saying, “What about you? Have you ever seen a ghost?” It would be difficult to get you truly enthralled in THE THING I’M SHOWING YOU.

But if I was quiet and focused and treated it like it was something that I found legitimately creepy, then you would find yourself feeling that way too. You can’t help it.

I’m certainly not always serious when I perform. I rarely am. But I’m never sidetracked (unless it’s a situation where the magic moment is coming as a total surprise to me as well).

Be as focused on the trick as you want them to be. The moment you start doing shtick is the moment they feel, “Oh, I guess whatever he has to show me isn’t that interesting.”

Mailbag #115

I liked [the post Keep Feeling Fascination] and it made me remember the words I heard from Michael Weber once, how we consider people we are performing magic for :

1- Audi ence  ( From Latin for, to listen )
2- Spec tator ( From Latin Spectare, to look at)

3- PARTICIPANT ( From Latin Participatio, to share ) ( helpers)

I try to keep this words in minds and go for the latter and I believe that your post was also sharing the same thing.—KQ

Yeah, I think I was hitting on a similar idea.

Although in practice I tend to use all of these in my write-ups. “Audience” for when I’m talking about performing for a larger group, “Spectator” when their role is more passive, and “Participant” when it’s more active. Although, that’s not always the case. Sometimes I mix it up just for the sake of adding some variety to the language used in the write-ups.

I like to think I pioneered the descriptor I use most of all to characterize the person you’re performing for:

FRIEND (From German, meaning “someone you’re not just desperate to fool because you’re craving attention and validation you didn’t get in high school”)

A friendship is a mutually beneficial relationship with someone whose company you enjoy.

I think social magic is best when it fits into this framework.

If they sense you’re showing them something for your own benefit, then you seem needy and desperate for approval.

If they feel like you’re showing them something solely for their “entertainment,” then it becomes a weird dynamic for a social interaction.

But if it feels like you’re doing this thing became it’s both something that fascinates you and something you think will be of interest to them—then you have something that will feel like it belongs in the context of a casual interaction. Even if it’s something completely bonkers.

---

Was hoping you'd be willing to weigh-in. When it comes to card to impossible location, I've come around to the idea that the card being signed would make the effect weaker, not stronger.

This is for one reason: if the card is signed, and there's no such thing as real magic, then the only explanation that your participants would be able to come up with -- that you secretly moved the card without them seeing -- is the actual, correct method. In fact, if the card is unique, then that is the ONLY explanation.

It's guessable.

Conversely, if you plant a duplicate (and have a /decent/ card force), then you have a HUGE number of options. Show the destination empty, and you literally never go anywhere near it. Planting duplicates on the spectator before the performance begins ("putpocketing"), etc.

The method shouldn't be the effect, and if you use a signed card for your signed card to impossible location, then the method is the effect... and it's the exact method your audience would be able to guess on their own... and they'd be right.

Thoughts?—CS

The good news is, I agree with you.

The bad news is, you’re 100% wrong.

The part you’re wrong about is that the same trick performed either with a signed or unsigned card is always more impossible when the card is signed.

That’s true whether the card appears in your pocket, or if the card appears on the dark side of the moon. It doesn’t matter.

So this statement: “When it comes to card to impossible location, I've come around to the idea that the card being signed makes the effect weaker, not stronger” is not accurate, all things being equal.

The point I think you’re making, and where I agree with you, is that we as magicians (especially as amateur magicians without secret helpers or performing in a formal environment) can likely create stronger card-to-impossible-location effects with a duplicate rather than signed card.

As a solo performer, the most impossible location the signed-card can appear still has to be somewhere within my reach.

But if I use a duplicate, it can appear anywhere. Of course, using a duplicate on its own isn’t enough of a deception. But you can pile on the deceptions. You can use a force that is very clean and allows for free choices. You can allow them to determine where the card appears (by using DFB or something similar). And so on.

And don’t sleep on the torn corner. The torn corner gives you the best of a duplicate, along with much of what you can get with a signed card.

To recap, in theory, any individual card-to-impossible-location effect is made stronger and more impossible with a signed card. But all card-to-impossible-location effects are on a spectrum. And of the effects that are actually doable by magicians, I would say the methodologies and deceptions we can use with a duplicate are generally stronger than the ones we can use with a signed card.

Since my goal is to do the strongest magic, I would always choose to have the card signed, if that was an option. But since my goal is to do the strongest magic, I wouldn’t limit myself to only tricks where the card is signed.

Dustings #108

The eclipse performance went over spectacularly. We were gathered at my friend’s lake house on the northern border of New York state. I spun the top on my palm a few times leading up to the event, as if I was trying to get the right “feel” for it.

In reality, I was trying to gauge the interest and make sure the moment was going to be right. The first time I spun it, one of my friends asked me about it, and I said something about how there’s supposed to be a moment during or around the eclipse that affects spinning objects strangely. Had he just said, “Oh,” and turned around, I probably wouldn’t have bothered with it. But he showed some interest and asked some follow-up questions. So I decided to go forward with it.

In the hour or so leading up to the event, I was able to get everybody in the group on board to the idea that I was waiting for this one moment where the “anomaly” would occur. I hadn’t decided if I was going to do it during the totality of the eclipse or just afterward. I knew we would have a few minutes of darkness, and what I wanted to show them would only take a few seconds. But still, I didn’t want to take people away from this potentially once-in-a-lifetime event for them to bring the focus on me. “Hey everyone! Over here! Stop looking at the moon passing in front of the sun. You can see that again when it happens 55 years from now. Instead, give ME your attention. I’ve got something fun to show you from former Ellusionist general manager, Adam Wilber!”

So I was going to feel it out. Magic at a special event can come off as a superfluous distraction. Or it can be the perfect finishing touch. Like a little bookmark for their mind that focuses their memory on that one moment, from which they can extrapolate and remember everything else going on around at the time.

I wish I could tell you how to know when a moment is, and when a moment isn’t improved with a trick, but it’s something you just have a feel for, I guess. Like knowing if it’s a good idea to go in for a good night kiss at the end of a first date. I’d like to think you’re attuned enough to the situation to trust your instincts. But I can’t say most magicians I’ve met give me that kind of confidence.

For my situation, though, it worked out perfectly. After just being still in the darkness of the eclipse for a couple of minutes, I noticed people’s attentions turning from the sky. I considered that an opening. “Oh, wait… I almost forgot I said.” I spun the top on my hand, where it lifted and floated to my other hand. “Holy shit.”

I tried again, but the anomaly had already past. Well, there’s always, 2079.

---

Tuesday’s post reminds me of something I’ve done in the past.

I’ve used it when doing something like a Triumph routine with a Cheek to Cheek deck. I’ll ask my friend if I can practice some sleight-of-hand and get their opinion on how it looks. Now, the Cheek to Cheek deck doesn’t need any sleight-of-hand. It’s a gimmicked deck. And if they get it in their head to examine the deck, then you’re sort of screwed.

By saying, “I’m going to do sleight-of-hand,” I find that people become much less interested in the deck at the end. For laypeople, “I’m doing sleight-of-hand” is both exposure and explanation. They don’t need to examine the cards at the end, because you already told them how it works.

So if you’re dealing with a lot of heat on a gimmick at the end of a trick, you can maybe deflect some of it by indicating at the start that what you’re showing them is sleight-of-hand. (Assuming it’s the sort of thing that theoretically could be accomplished via sleight-of-hand.)

I don’t use this technique anymore because I don’t really ever want people thinking I’m better at sleight-of-hand than I actually am. But you may find it helpful in certain situations.

---

I’m reading the book Paperbacks from Hell by Grady Hendrix. It’s a great discussion of 1970s and 80s horror paperbacks, with 100s of pictures of some of the crazy covers of those books.

It’s always good to remind yourself of the stereotype of magicians—what you need to fight against. And this book really slaps you in the face with one:

“Hating clowns is a waste of time because you’ll never loathe a clown as much as he loathes himself, but a magician? Magicians think they’re wise and witty, full of patter and panache, walking around like they don’t deserve to be shot in the back of the head and dumped in a lake. For all the grandeur of its self-regard, magic consists of nothing more than making a total stranger feel stupid. Worse, the magician usually dresses like a jackass.” —Grady Hendrix

Fair enough.

37

Jonathan T. writes:

If you haven't seen already, thought you'd find this interesting potential premise fodder.

It’s a good idea.

Let’s talk about crafting the idea so it builds in a satisfying and surprising way.

I would probably do the standard 37 force on them first. Then explain it and show them parts of this video.

“But it gets weirder…,”

Then I would do something that forces a three and a seven from a group of playing cards or number cards. So, something like the Gemini Twins force. This twists the concept in a small but significant way.

We’re still using numbers. And we’re still hitting on the number 37 in the end. But while the first phase—and the psychological appeal of the number—has some logic to it, the idea that you would be drawn to those numbers as individual cards in a deck seems much more abstract.

But… possible? I mean, maybe when you showed them the cards in the deck, their mind subconsciously picked up on the threes and sevens because it’s geared to identify those numbers (especially after discussing them for the past few minutes).

So we’re pushing from a psychological feasibility to something with a much more magical quality.

Now let’s take it to another level, while seemingly still rooted in the world of numbers and mathematics.

You have your friend multiply a “favorite” two-digit number, times a “random” three-digit number, times a four-digit number that “has some meaning to them.”

You end up with a random number. There is no immediate 37 connection.

You write the number down so you can refer back to it. You have your friend divide the number by 37 to see if that gives us any information. But it doesn’t divide evenly. You add up all the digits in the number, but that doesn’t get you 37 either. The square root, maybe?

You turn the number towards your friend.

“I bet it’s in there somewhere,” you say. “I just don’t know exactly how. People are so drawn to the number that it’s almost always is ingrained in these numbers that seem arbitrary or random.”

Then you see it.

“Holy shit.” You pick up the paper and start tearing and folding it.

No, 37 isn’t in the number. But 30 SEVEn is.

For me, this feels like an ideal progression.

You have the original psychological force, which is… fine. Sometimes it gets a pretty good response. Other times, just okay.

Then you have the explanation of this phenomenon with the video (again, I wouldn’t watch the whole thing with someone, just highlights). This roots the phenomenon in the real world in a way that makes some logical sense.

The phase with the cards takes this in a different, but potentially believable, direction.

And then the finale, where the numbers somehow spell out letters, is something that’s clearly not psychology, or mathematics, or anything like that. It’s surprising and magical, but it’s not a randomly tacked on magical element. It’s still firmly rooted in the premise that you established (that the number 37 weirdly shows up everywhere), but in a way they wouldn’t have anticipated.

(The method for the final phase is, of course, the TOXIC force and Cryptext. Cryptext could be used to fully spell out THIRTYSEVEN, but the number gets too long for my taste. And I sort of like the “sloppiness” of the way the number is revealed. It’s not too cutesy.)

Spont: Wallet Cards

I’m trying to think the best way to introduce this idea to you. If I tell you how much I’ve been getting out of this idea recently, your expectations are going to be raised and when you read it you’ll say, “Huh? That’s it?”

But if I don’t hype it up for you somewhat, I think you’ll underestimate the idea.

It’s definitely a small idea.

It’s possibly something that other people are already doing without thinking too much about it. But I just stumbled on it myself recently.

It’s a Spont.

What’s a Spont?

A Spont is a concept I wrote about a few weeks ago. At that time, Spont was a placeholder name, but now I’m sticking with it.

Sponts are techniques you can use to make a trick feel more spontaneous. They make the interaction feel less planned. And they lower the friction between performing and not performing.

This is a Spont for use with wallet card magic.

As you probably know, wallet card magic is magic that’s done with a card you keep in your wallet (and if you didn’t know that, I’m sure you could have surmised that).

Some examples that I have carried around are Chroma by Mark Lemon or Pictionary by Michael Weber.

Contact by Rick Lax is a that uses a single playing card you can keep in your wallet.

Paul Carnazzo has a whole series of them. (I’m not familiar with his work, so I can’t comment on them, good or bad.)

The best thing about wallet card tricks is that you can carry them around in your wallet. Very convenient.

The worst thing about wallet card tricks is the, “hold on, let me get my special little card I carry with me to show you a trick” moment.

There’s really no way to naturally stumble into the trick. The card is hidden away in your wallet. Sure, I guess if someone says to me, “I was just thinking about the subject of color cognition,” I can pull out Mark Lemon’s Chroma and say, “Oh, I just happen to have a card on me that tests such things.” But sadly, it’s a subject that rarely comes up.

So there’s always that moment between our normal conversation, and the point where I’m digging in my wallet to get a card to show you a trick.

I know most performers don’t care. Most magicians would say, “Just tell them you want to show them a trick and reach in your wallet and pull out the card. What’s the big deal?”

I get it. But that moment—that moment where they go from a normal interaction to being the audience for a magic trick—is my least favorite moment in casual magic. The more abrupt it is, the less natural it feels, the more their guard is up. Sanding the edges off that moment is an essential element of social magic.

Okay… enough build up. So what’s the technique I’m talking about?

I don’t keep wallet cards in my wallet.

Instead, I use them as bookmarks.

Underwhelmed? That’s fair.

But I’m telling you, it feels so much better to get into one of these tricks this way, rather than pulling the card out of my wallet.

I can have the book out when I’m at a café or elsewhere in public where I might interact with people.

I can have it sitting on my coffee table or my night stand. On the passenger seat of my car. On my desk at my co-working space. Anywhere where people might see it.

Sometimes they’ll spot the bookmark and ask what it is.

Sometimes they’ll ask about the book. I’ll flip through it as I talk about the plot and casually set the bookmark on the table. At this point, they may notice the card and ask me about it.

Sometimes I’ll just be talking to someone, and I’ll absentmindedly be flicking the edge of the bookmark with my thumb. Then, I focus on it as if I’m just taking in what it is myself, I say, “Oh, could I try something with you?”

So even if they don’t notice the card or comment on it, the card is already in the world, and it’s serving a purpose other than being this thing that I carry around in order to do a magic trick with. It’s not something that’s been squirreled away in my wallet. If they don’t happen to notice it, then I can notice it. And my attitude is, “Oh, yeah. I have this with me. It might be fun to try [whatever].” That’s still perfectly normal. It does not feel forced. If I was using a coupon for adult diapers as a bookmark and I happened to notice it and mention, “Oh yeah, I don’t know if I told you, but I’ve been shitting my pants recently.” That would feel like a natural moment. You wouldn’t think, “I bet he uses that as a bookmark because he WANTS to tell me about his fecal incontinence.”

This is especially good for tricks that use a single playing card like Contact. It’s actually less normal to carry around a single playing card in your wallet than it is to carry around a full deck of cards in your pocket. So if someone asks to see a trick and you say, “Ah, I don’t have anything. Well, actually, I have this single card in my wallet,” then that card is already suspect, and your actions clearly pre-planned.

But a playing card as a bookmark? This isn’t uncommon. You can genuinely play this as if you’re caught off guard. “Sorry. I don’t have anything on me… well, actually….”

My appreciation for this little idea might not resonate with you. But I’ve already gotten a lot out of it in just a matter of weeks since I started doing it.

(In my obituary, please make sure it says: “To get a feel for his intellect, in middle school, he struggled to write one page about the American Revolution. As an adult, he wrote the equivalent of a four-page essay on using wallet card magic tricks as bookmarks. He will not be missed.”)

Sleight Exposure Technique

This is an idea from Sam “Stuck In the Middle With You by Stealers” Wheeler.

He wrote me about it after my Beta Test Performance Style post last year. He offered it up as another “ego saving” performance style. It’s another way to take the pressure off when you perform. This is for when you have a sleight-of-hand-based routine that you’re not 100% comfortable with yet.

Here it is, in his words:

I read your post today about The Beta Test Performance Style. 

I like the concept a lot. As someone who struggles with feeling guilty about performing I can see this being very useful, I can put that guilt onto someone else! 

I wanted to share another ego saving performance style I've played with for a couple of years. 

Essentially its for use when you are a little afraid about using a new technique or move. For example, I've always felt a little afraid of the palm, the fear of getting caught holding out a card. So I never used the palm. I came up with this performance style specifically to start using the palm, with the eventual goal of not being afraid of using it any more! 

I have a couple of variations on how I introduce this, but at some point, you say "do you want to see what sleight of hand actually looks like?" 

You build up an expectation that they are going to actually see what the sleight of hand looks like... And then you perform the trick. 

The benefit now is that if they do catch the palm they will believe that you intended to show it to them, so your ego is safe, and now you can have a conversation about sleight of hand and that move in particular. 

If they don't catch the palm, you then have a bit of a punch line of "well that's what sleight of hand looks like". 

Of course since I started using this, I relaxed significantly, and nobody seemed to catch the palm. 

I trust that they are being honest, because they all believe I am going to expose the move, so wouldn't need to protect my ego by lying, and all generally say something like "well where was the sleight of hand?", or "I didn't see the sleight of hand". 

I grew to like this performance style so much that I've been using it permanently as how I perform the homing card: 

I start the performance by honestly explaining that I find some methods in magic scary to do. There's one move in particular that's always terrified me, and explain that I'm trying to face my fear and start using it. (I really like that this is honestly letting them into some truth about me) 

Then I do the "do you want to see what this move actually looks like? You'll get to see real sleight of hand, and know what sleight of hand actually looks like..." gambit. 

Going into the effect, the palm happens at a bit of an unexpected time which I think helps. 

After the first phase I know I am going to repeat even more cleanly... So if they caught the move I'll offer to do it again but how it normally looks without exposing the move. If they didn't catch the palm I'll just offer to do it again. 

I think that’s a really solid idea. It’s rare for me to do a trick with a sleight that I’m not comfortable with. (But that’s only because I don’t push myself too much sleight-wise. Not because I’m some sleight-of-hand master.) So I haven’t had the need to use it myself, but I can definitely see the value in it, not only to release the pressure a bit on yourself, but also to intrigue the spectator somewhat regarding what they will (or won’t) end up seeing.

Thanks, Sam.