A book is a spell

A little more than a year ago, I was riffling through a stranger's papers. Pages and pages of notes. Outline materials. Letters. Drafts of what would become a book. Each item was teaching me something--helping me put into words something I already unconsciously knew: a book is a spell.

This notion will already be familiar to many of you. Whether you're a creator engaging with magical themes, a devoted reader who welcomes the potential transformation that each novel offers you, or you're a fan-kid of podcasts like Edgar Fabian Frias' Your Art is a Spell. A book as a piece of art does something magical in communicating ideas across time and space. George Saunders talks about this as a mind-meld between the author and the reader.

I experienced this kind of mind-meld in the archives at Smith College last year while reading Charlene Spretnak's papers, gathered together to document the writing process of The Politics of Women's Spirituality. I was there doing research for my current work-in-progress, interested in feminist and queer perspectives on the nature of magic. This question is what lead me to Spretnak's papers in the first place--itself, a collection of magical objects: textured pencil marks, torn legal pad pages, and real carbon copies.

My research fellowship at Smith was my first experience doing self-directed archival research and it couldn't have come at a better time for me. My own book--The Lilies--was about to be published and I was filled with frenetic, panicky energy. Having a research project to focus on was a welcome relief from the growing awareness that I was about to cast my first big spell. My debut novel was about to be in the hands of friends and strangers across the country and I needed distraction from that fact.

The archive assistant brought me the first edition copy of Spretnak's The Politics of Women's Spirituality nested on a special book pillow. I was also given a book snake (a long, thin beanbag thingy) to hold the pages down, minimizing contact between the paper and my oily fingertips. These ritual objects protected the essay collection. They supported its spine, maintaining the glue and thread that stitched all the ideas together. They were squishy and whimsical and dare I say cute. Magical accessories. Perhaps unnecessary for most books, but nice to have in the context of the archive.

Among the contributors to the collection, I noticed Starhawk's name. At that time, I didn't know her work as a feminist witch/theorist/novelist, but I was delighted to find that her essays felt both familiar and revelatory to me. In her work, I could see the shape of my own life, and that of my characters (both in The Lilies and in my current work in progress). Specifically, I was struck by the way Starhawk framed the idea of estrangement as something that can happen within one's self as the result of trauma and socialization: “Estrangement permeates our society so thoroughly that it seems to be consciousness." She argues that as we become estranged from ourselves and others due to the binaries imposed by patriarchy, we “lose our sense of self-worth.”

Writing this today, one year after my time in the archives and the subsequent publication of The Lilies, I continue to return to this idea of estrangement in the context of young adulthood. Adolescence is a time where we either slowly become strangers to ourselves out of a sense of self-protection or take a risk by stepping into our authenticity. Often we do both in different ways. Certainly, the characters in The Lilies do this, as do the characters in my current WIP. My characters will likely do this every book I will ever write. Why? Because I want to cast a specific kind of spell as a writer of books for young people--the kind that invites you to be brave by being yourself, whatever that looks like.

I intend to share more about my archival research into queer zines, pulp fiction, and magical objects in the next few months. If you liked this, you'll love what's to come.

Upcoming:

Uncommon Senses - CAN: Next week, I'll be attending the Uncommon Senses in Montreal. I'll be wearing my visual artist hat there (my writer hat, not so much) so if you want to talk about that, definitely come say hi!

Queer Kid Lit Camp - VT: I'll be attending Queer Kid Lit Camp in Vermont on Sunday, May 25th. If you see me there and want to build a camp fire together, come say hi!

LavendarCon - DC: Catch me and a bunch of other wonderful queer authors at LavendarCon in DC on June 14th & 15th. I'll have more info for you on panels and events soon. Buy a book, say hi, and come claim some Lilies swag! I have so many pins to give away.

ALA - PA: I'll be haunting the American Library Association's annual conference in Philly, June 26-30. No events, I'm just hanging out and bringing all the librarians Lilies swag leftover. If you're at ALA, you know what to do (come say hi)!