I’m waiting for my publisher to get comments back to me, from her initial structural-edit pass on book two. (Next pass is line-editing.) She does a great job, and I look forward … oh, who am I kidding? I look forward to her finding no problems whatsoever. But I hardly expect that.
In the meantime, I’m living life, and ignoring an essay I’m supposed to write. I had to go look at my astrology for the past couple of days, though, because what I’ve done is this:
So glad Mercury is going direct! It’s been a hard one, this Pisces retrograde. For me, it came as the return of old sorrows—old relationships snuffed out, things that will never be mended.
But luckily, it turns out, at least I won’t have to bother myself with writing any more. Potato has taken over the author’s chair.
I was too busy gawking at the moon last night to take a photo. A picture of a recent reading for personal guidance will have to do.
Hekate deipnon, last night— I gave her some Fires of Hekate incense. Hekate has a place on my main altar with her key, sitting in front of Cernunnos, who you can see in the background.
The new moon is in Sagittarius. The astrologers I’ve read say it’s a sparkly one, as new moons go, full of hope.
Keep going, Hekate says. I keep going.
Saturn is central to my astrological chart—ruler of duty, constraint, control. Saturn conjuncts my moon, which books will tell you makes me melancholy and my emotions hard to express. Saturn also sits highest in my chart, nearest the zenith, making it the ruler of my career.
Despite Saturn’s reputation for constriction, he also rules the Saturnalia, when everyone trades places, servants become rulers, and we exchange gifts amid revelry. Saturn is king of the Golden Age, when no one needs to work and fruit falls from the trees.