I remember it well. How could I forget it? Luke Jermay was giving a lecture. I had been hanging out with Peter Turner most of the morning. And one never forgets their first magic convention. It was The Session 2017. And he? He was sitting directly in front of me with his back to me. With his black robes and a widow’s peak sharper than an arrow's point that fell back into a long ponytail. He was one of magic’s foremost authorities on everything from its history, to its performance, and theory. He was Max Maven.
I knew I wanted to talk to Max. He was one of those guys who got it. The lecture ended and people poured out of the lecture hall. I kept my eyes on Max. Finally I saw him standing alone in the center of the room. That’s when I approached.
“Hey Max Maven. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said.
“Hello, you must have a name.” He said.
“I’m James…”
We talked for only a brief time. We spoke about an idea for a show I had been writing. He gave me some good advice. I was young then and had nothing special or unique to offer magic. But he was kind enough to talk to me and shoot straight.
The one thing that always stood out in my mind was when I asked him about becoming a professional magician. He said “My honest advice is that if you can find anything else that you even might probably want to do, even a little. That you pursue that as a career and do magic on the side. Because just because things are going well now, that doesn’t mean six months from now things will be. I’ve had times in my career where I’m on television and performing sold out shows and then only a few months later it’s hard to find any work. So that being said I’d try other things, but if you are like me and in the end you have to do this for your career, just be prepared. It will be the hardest thing you’ll ever do in your life.”
He shot straight. And I took his advice, at least for a little while. I worked a lot of different jobs, even became a real estate agent for a short time. But in the end, at least in one way, I guess I was a bit like Max. I just had to do this. And he wasn’t lying, during the pandemic I learned that sometimes there’s really not much you can do. In six months you can go from the bottom, to the top, and back again. (Not that I’ve ever reached the top of anything).
The show I was writing at the time never amounted to anything. And unfortunately I never met Max again. But I’ll always remember him, from his work, his books, and his kindness that day.
Rest in peace Max Maven.