On today’s Full Moon in Gemini, I have two things to share–one related to shopping, the other to writing. O Hermes, god of commerce, communication, and all things Gemini–this one’s for you, man. 💖
The sale ends at midnight ⌛ so if you’re wanting to master intuitive tarot, dissolve limiting patterns with shadow work, learn to set boundaries without sounding rude and more, it’s all right here.
Now that I’m in the home stretch of writing my first romance novel (yippeeee!), I thought it would be fun to share how I’ve used magic to support my writing process. (I also share a pic from the book at the end.)
If you’ve been with me a while, you know that the entire project never would have happened were it not for the urging of my spirit guides, so I have magic to thank from the very start.
But once I began I needed to create solid writing habits, otherwise I’d find ways to procrastinate until the End Days.
I used sigils to help me establish a morning writing routine and resist distractions, to help locate the best writing resources precisely when I needed them, and more. (Create your own sigils–they’re so fun.)
Maintaining my writing schedule was even easier once I established a hyperspace of devotion, which is an energetic zone where momentum is on your side.
Weird analogy: If you’ve ever been in a haunted house where you can just feel the hairs-prickling-on-the-back-of-your-neck vibe, and that gets your mood and thoughts running along a particular channel, hyperspaces are similar, only for building habits.
Once you’re in the space, it’s waaaay easier to perform the habit, because the whole vibe is sweeping you in that direction. Here’s how to create a hyperspace of your own.
I also relied a LOT on spirit guides for everything from soothing my inner critic who would have me do anything but write (‘cause I might “fail”) to asking the spirit of the book how it wanted to be expressed. (Learn how to safely work with spirit guides.)
Dreamwork played a big role, too, because those nightly messages highlighted where I was tripping myself up and why, and then I could use targeted spellcasting to dismantle those roadblocks. (Start interpreting your dreams.)
And of course, a trusty tarot deck is my creative-process BFF, and I pulled cards to help me navigate plot conundrums, hear what my characters were trying to tell me, and fine-tune my writing process so I wasn’t wasting loads of energy on pointless stuff.
(I also used my pendulum for in-the-moment questions during writing, which is something I teach in Enchantment Lab. Here’s how to use tarot and pendulums in tandem.)
All of these magical initiatives can get a little unwieldy, so…
I created a magical campaign tracker in Notion, which, holy cow, is one of the best things I’ve ever done. Soooo much easier to see what’s working and what needs tweaking.
It’s also interesting to note common themes, because if a particular type of spell regularly flops regardless of astrological timing and other factors, it might not be a good match for your psychological makeup.
If you’re in The Portal, I have a whole lesson detailing how to use the magical tracker inside Enchantment Lab, and we also talk about spotting a spell-psyche mismatch.
Right now, I’m working with an artist to create the book cover
…and I wanted to share an early iteration of one of the characters by a different artist (who was really amazing to work with!).
It’s a little too anime/baby-faced for what I need (given the spice level of the novel, I definitely want the character to look like a grown-ass man), but it ended up sparking a fun idea for a spin-off story about the character when he’s younger, so yay!
Five hundred manuscript pages later, it’s ironically tricky to put into words how much this romance-writing project has changed me–and continues to change me.
I feel braver creatively (writing steamy sex scenes will do that, I suppose!), and I’m more eager to take on challenges in the spirit of learning something cool, without a white-knuckled grip on needing to do things perfectly.
I’m better able to sense when I need to be proactive versus when I’m trying to force shit according to an arbitrary timeline and would be better served by chilling out.
If, in some strange alternate universe, I was forced to choose one magical practice to support my creative process, it would probably be working with spirit guides, with dreamwork a very close second.
Working with guides helps me understand my inner makeup and my outer world on a level that, honestly, I don’t think I’d ever be able to access via the ego alone. (Ditto with dreamwork.)
I mean, if my ego had been in charge, it never would have occurred to me to write a romance novel. It was so far outside my wheelhouse, the idea felt as foreign as seeing in five dimensions.
But in hindsight, it’s downright trippy how well this project suits my creative temperament, tapping into that enchanting, wholly absorptive experience of tumbling down a rabbit hole that fiction-writing activated in me as a kid.
Isn’t it weird that something you would really, really love simply doesn’t occur to your ego?
It just goes to show how good egos are at focusing and discriminating this from that, but the unconscious will always outperform when it comes to unearthing the unexpected.
Happy Full Moon!