How and why to build a book altar

at long last, a guide

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Being totally real: at least part of the reason Heretic is getting a second chance at the market is because of the witchcraft I have worked… mostly at my book altar.

are libraries not a kind of sacred space / photo of trinity college

When I mention book altars in passing conversation (or as practical advice in astrology readings) other writers will stop me: wait, what IS a book altar? I recently realized that while I’ve talked about my book altar for years, most recently on the latest Call Your Coven episode about creativity and witchcraft, I have never explained precisely what it is, or why I keep it, or how it has impacted my own creative practice.

Being so real, I first started keeping a book altar because of what is undiagnosed-but-probably-ADHD brain. One of my key “systems” for remembering things is open-shelf storage. I need to see everything I am working on or using; if it’s put away in a drawer or box, it will effectively cease to exist. It’s part of why I like a lot of altars and shrines, generally: they are visible, tangible places I can go in my house.

Let me back up. Before the organizational reasoning comes the impulse for The Thing in the first place. I first got the idea for a book altar years ago because of the way my relationship to Creativity was changing. Informed by an increasingly animistic worldview and astrological practice that my friend Pallas K. Augustine would call “relational,” I extended that logic to my book projects.

Creativity herself is a spirit (to me, Creativity is a she, but that may differ for you!) — this is the foundational belief of my work and also of the forthcoming Astrology for Artists book. Story, then, is also enspirited, and I believe that there are spirits attached to our individual creative projects. (My friend Sasha Ravitch would call this the “spirit court” of a story.)

Over the years, it has become profoundly clear to me that “working on a book” is an insufficient descriptor of the creative process. I am in relationship with my stories. I talk to them. I visit them. I feel them at the museum or the bookstore or the library. I petition their spirits.

Re-framing Creativity, and my book projects, as a relationship to invest in rather than a to-do list to accomplish has made all the difference.

Don’t let me take your ambition and career goals away from you, mind. I myself am tremendously ambitious, in perhaps the most classical sense of the word (Capricorn, hi hello). But I also know that I have to engage with Story more holistically than the constraints of capitalism allow, or else burnout will come.

I believe that books can change your life: reading and writing them. Given how I understand my spiritual life, why wouldn’t I consider books as an enspirited being themselves? And I am someone who keeps altars and shrines for ancestors and others in my home, so why wouldn’t I extend that to the books I am stewarding?

Having elaborated on the understanding and reasoning behind the book altar, let’s get into the nitty gritty with the most commonly asked question:

What goes on a book altar?

The answer: Anything. I should note that some folks get persnickety about the distinction between an altar (a space you are actively “working”) versus a shrine (that is more devotional), but my book altar slips between these two poles with regularity, so I just call it an altar.

But you can, truly, put anything on such an altar (as you’ll see below). This includes traditional offerings, such as candles, incense, a glass of water, and other food or libations (although you’ll want to be extra-good about cleaning if you’re putting perishables out).

At present, I have the following on my own book altar: images of characters for my novel WIP, tarot cards that have been pulled on behalf of the projects, a few tchotchkes that are related to The Projects, and various writing-related magical materia. When I am actively working a spell on behalf of a book or hoped-for project, the spell will be worked on the book altar (such as the sweetening jar I used to work the Astrology for Artists book deal spell).

Whereas my ancestors and deities get regular candles-and-water as their baseline offering, I usually only do a tealight candle on the book altar, with prayers. This is a way that I “touch” story every day, even if I am not actively writing, revising, or researching. Speaking to the spirits of story has profoundly eased the amount of guilt I feel when too occupied elsewhere (e.g. “I’m a bad worker and so consequently a bad person” internalized capitalist bullshit). But it also reminds me of just how extensive the creative process is. Today’s task is never to write the book, as Matt Bell reminds us in Refuse To Be Done; it is only to listen, and to intentionally connect.

Tending a book altar these last years has helped me deepen my relationship with the creative process itself. Yes, I have worked magic on behalf of my projects, but the most effective magic is that which subtly, over time, shifts your worldview and brings you into deeper, more seamless alignment with your life — with your favorite self, my friend and Call Your Coven co-host Rebecca Scolnick might call it.

Other ideas for things you might put on the book altar:

• Cash / coins (for projects in book deal to publication stage)
• Fresh or dried flowers
• Offerings specific to your characters and/or story spirits (e.g. a favorite meal, crystals of a particular color)
• Related books that you’d like yours to be in the company of / shelved with in a bookstore or library display
• Books / artwork that you suspect are related to similar story spirits as yours (if you’re doing a mythological retelling, for example, this becomes more obvious)
• Representations of things you’d like the book to bring you

Where should the book altar go? How many altars do I need? etc.

The book altar can go anywhere in your home. While I’d advise keeping it out of the bedroom if that is at all possible (it invites intellectual and spiritual ~activity~, which can be disruptive to sleep), you can simply cover the altar respectfully with a white cloth or shawl at the end of the day if the bedroom is your only option for privacy.

The altar can be as big or small as you like, as public or private as you like. Part of what I love about a book altar is that it can be discreetly tucked into a bookshelf, easily hiding in plain sight when you have company. You might also keep one in a small box on a desk, travel-style, which is also a nice solution for folks who need to keep their witchcraft in their bedroom.

You get to decide what a “book altar” is. There are many ways to represent and participate in everyday devotion — this is only one of them. And your “book altar” need not even be a book altar at all! You might have a piece of jewelry you put on, for example, which brings that devotional relationship into the everyday.

Last but not least, you do not need a separate space for each and every project you’re working on. At present, my own altar is quite busy: she’s ~holding space~ for three separate, very active projects (Astrology for Artists, the Heretic paperback, and a novel WIP). If I didn’t live in New York City, I might well give each project its own space, but such devotion is not possible given the size of our apartment.

And so as we end here, I want to assure you that, as with all witchy practices, this can be as complicated or simple as you’d like. At the end of the day, all you need to do a spell or build a relationship is intention, energy, and time. Everything else is extra.

But sometimes, the extra helps.

What other questions do you have? Do you keep a book altar, or something similar, that you tend already? How has it impacted your creative practice? Would love to hear from you in the comments!