Hey there! Last time, we compared a magic ritual to a book launch, and this time, we’re going to look at spells, starting with: are rituals and spells different?
Before we jump in, here’s your magical portal button to The Fool & the Threads of Time Kickstarter:
A spell is a focused act of magic designed to achieve a specific goal.
An example from ancient Greece would be a katadesmos, or curse tablet, designed to make someone’s horse freak out during a race (not making this up) or to cause someone to fall madly in love with the spellcaster (definitely not making this up—loads of pining, angsty love spells have been found).
Rituals are typically multi-stepped, whereas a spell might be a shorter affair.
What’s interesting, though, is the distinction seems to be blurring. 🧐 Today, a witch might light a candle and call that a ritual, dispensing with an elaborate invocation of planetary deities aligned with the day and hour, donning a fancy robe, etc. Back in the day, this candle-lighting might’ve been deemed a spell.
I don’t know why this is, exactly, but I wonder if it’s tied to the gradual decline in hierarchical, overtly religious forms of magic. More people than ever practice syncretic, DIY magic—you don’t have to be a high priest at the Temple of Amun to petition higher forces.
And speaking of higher forces, 19th and 20th century occultism saw a shift toward reframing magic as working with mental or subconscious forces (📣 shout out to Jung, who played a big part). This doesn’t mean deities were abandoned by all, but more practitioners began to view magic as a means of cultivating and directing personal power, as opposed to currying the favor of the gods (or a blend of both).
All of this, I think, has led to a blurring between dogmatic ritual systems and quick-and-dirty spellcasting. That said, at various points in history, there’s been a lot of snobbery (and straight up misogyny) about the difference between “high” and “low” magic, the latter frequently performed by cunning folk, not “educated” magicians, so let’s not follow in those footsteps. Hard pass on the magical hatorade.
In my own practice, it’s tricky to tell where a spell ends and a ritual begins.
Take my magical book cameo as an example.
In The Fool & the Threads of Time, I created a side character who’s…me. 🤫 They’re in two scenes, and this allowed me to sneak a bit of energetic “code” into the book’s “software.”
Why?
I’ve long been intrigued by authors who insert themselves into their stories, only to find themselves experiencing similar events as their characters—Grant Morrison, the comics writer, being a well-known example. That said, I didn’t want to magically identify myself with either of the main characters, since I have to put them through hell in order to write a compelling story. Yeah, no thanks!
I’ve been experimenting with a separate notebook (covered in sigils, of course 🤓) that contains my cameo character’s narrative, including their backstory, fortuitous events, and things I want them to experience in the future. I would classify the sigils painted on the notebook as spells, whereas establishing a link between the notebook, the cameo character, and myself was a ritual.
Now, let’s explore the building blocks of a spell and relate this to a book launch.
The basic spellcasting ingredients are intent, energy, and a directed release of that energy. You can sprinkle in extras like magical timing and tools, but without the first three, you won’t have much of a spell.
If I don’t have an intent for this book launch, my spell is doomed to fizzle out.
Using “mundane” actions as an example, if I’m not clear on the goal—selling my book—I might neglect to include a link to the Kickstarter or get so distracted talking about magic that I never mention the book at all.
More subtly, I might sneak in a reference, but swaddle it in wishy-washiness: yeah, I mean, if you’re interested…I suppose you could find it here. If you want. Or not.
This happens a lot in magic, because it happens a lot in life. Being direct can feel cringy if you were taught that asking for what you want is gauche or flat-out shameful. (#relate) Instead, you have to hint and hope people figure it out, perhaps feeling sad and resentful if they don’t.
Let’s keep building our spell.
Once we have our clear intent, we need energy to empower it. There are endless ways to drum up energy: clapping your hands, chanting, visualization, ringing a bell, calling in earth and sky energies, etc.
For my launch, I empowered each email by sitting in front of my computer, visualizing a cascade of energy flowing through my crown from the sky and welling up through my feet from the earth. These twin streams mingled at my heart, infusing with love, before beaming from my outstretched hands, into the email. All the while, I held my spell’s intent (selling my book) in my mind, feeling it soak into the energy. 💞
Three things are happening here: raising, charging, and directing energy.
1) You raise a store of energy 2) you focus on your spellcasting intent, transforming the energy into a vehicle of that intent 3) you direct the energy at a chosen target.
Depending on your spell, the target might be diffuse—you might simply release the energy into the universe—but regardless, once the energy feels like it’s reached its peak, you have to let it go, perhaps by flinging your arms out, visualizing energy streaming up, up, and away. In my case, I imagined energy blasting from my palms until every last drop was absorbed by the email.
It’s helpful to do something to mark this release and signal your detachment (i.e., your commitment to not micromanage the spell’s unfolding). In ceremonial magick, you might cross your arms over your chest, opposite hand on opposite shoulder, bowing your head. I will often clap my hands or snap my fingers three times, stating, So mote it be! or And so it is!
Here’s where this particular spell—the book launch—gets interesting.
In most magical workings, the behind-the-scenes mechanisms are more or less hidden. You cast the spell, release it, and trust that forces unseen will align in your favor. But here, at least one aspect of the spell’s unfolding is tangible: individual people backing the Kickstarter.
Does this make the spell feel super duper vulnerable, you might ask? Why, yes—yes, it does. Very much so. 🫠 In fact, this might be the first time I’ve cast a spell where everyone can watch whether or not it tanks.
But we’re nothing if not experimental around here, thus…so mote it be!
Ready to join in the fun?
