The Premiere Widdershins Kickstarter Tier: The Witch

I’m gearing up to lauch the Kickstarter for my debut novel, Widdershins, and I thought I would show you a sneak peak of the premiere tier, The Witch, and what inspired it. Sign up here to be notified when the Kickstarter launches on April 30th of this year.

Ten years ago I wrote a guide to witch’s beads, sometimes called Pagan prayer beads or Pagan rosaries. It was informed by custom designs I created for other witches, Pagans and Heathens. For the last 15 years I have run Feral Strumpet, a handmade adornment and altar supply business. I once made custom strands for people who used them in devotion or simply wore them. I also repurposed broken rosary beads, giving them new life.

While I can no longer make those beaded strands as custom designs, I do still make what I call Witches Ladder necklaces—each is a one of a kind sterling silver necklace made with links of semi precious stones, all inspired by the colours of the Orkney landscape where I live.

As part of the Widdershins Kickstarter, I will be offering one of a kind, necklaces handmade by me as part of the Witches Tier. [The way Kickstarter works: supporters of a project like Widdershins choose a tier, and each tier comes with unique rewards once the project is funded. Kickstarter is all or nothing—only projects that meet their funding goals are funded.]

The article I wrote in 2016 links this meditative metal working technique used in my witches ladder necklaces to my writing process. Interlocking spirals also give shape to the story of my novel Widdershins!

Some rosary inspired designs I’ve been making for the last 15 years!

Here is the article I wrote for my shop blog in 2016

Catherine wearing a repurposed rosary fragment necklace

The use of a strand of beads in prayer is universal across almost all faiths, but is well known in the form of the Catholic rosary. I have collected rosaries since I was a teenager. Often I would find them in the street, in thrift shops or at flea markets. I have refurbished them and sold them whole again, reused the fragments but I have also listened to them. Some wanted to be something else entirely, and perhaps this is why they found their way to me.

I have always loved them, perhaps because they are a physical representation of devotions to Mary. They were the first meditations to a goddess—a divine woman and alternative to God the father—I had ever known.

Some witches, like myself, have come from a Christian path and may miss certain aspects of those rituals. A wonderful article about this can be found on Patheos, Retooling the Rosary. The meditative rhythms of the beads reflect the rhythms of the earth. Pagan prayer beads can use many of these for their structure–the four seasons, the phases of the moon, the 8 Sabats or 13 Esbats, the 24 runes in the Elder Furthark. I am partial to nines—the spinning number of three times three. Odin hung on the tree for 9 days and there are 9 worlds in the Norse cosmos. The ubiquitous 9 maidens in folklore also inform my designs.

Even in my secular jewellery—meant simply to be worn and enjoyed—the hand wrapped rosary links I make are very meditative. Some designs take on a devotional feeling as I make them, much like the rhythms of tying a witches ladder.

Traditional ladders used knots with feathers attached in binding spells. For instance, to bind an illness the knotted cord was worked up and then thrown into a pond or river–presumably the ailments went with it. [Knotwork is also part of weather magic in Orkney folklore]Any research on the subject is bound (ha!) to turn up the use of knot magic in cursing. We must cast a critical eye on the remnants of history left to us by those who wished to distort our traditions. This work was most likely also used for other benevolent purposes as well as ill. In modern Wicca, the knots are used to seal a working and chanting can be part of it.

A variation on the traditional chant:

Knot one, the work’s begun.
Knot two, my aim is true.
Knot three, it will be.
Knot four, power’s stored.
Knot five, the work’s alive.
Knot six, the work’s fixed.
Knot of seven, the truth given.
Knot eight, will be fate.
Knot nine, the work is mine

[The currently AI-dominated internet will tell you Deborah Harkness, author of the novel A Discovery of Witches, wrote the worlds of this spell—but I’m here to tell you it it’s older than that.)

As in prayer and spell work, words are more powerful if you use your own. In my other life as a poet I have been obsessed by the sestina form, a six-stanza poem that ends in a three line envoy. The end words of each line are rotated through the stanzas, as strands in a braid. This form was arguably invented by a 13th century troubadour, Arnaut Daniel, who called it a cledistat, which means “to interlock”. Here is a wonderful graphic that shows the structure of the sestina as a series of beads or knots on a spiral thread.

By Phil wink – Own work, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=19446455

I am constantly amazed at the correspondences between modes of creative work. The same attention to detail that went into writing my sestinas is manifested in my hand wrapped rosary chains. They are from the heart.

Salty Cake, or my book turns three

Bound proofs of Ashes & Stones.

Tomorrow is my book birthday. Ashes & Stones, my creative nonfiction book about women persecuted as witches in Scotland, was published three years ago.

I began writing and researching the book over eight years ago. When I started the work, few people were talking about the history of witch hunts in Scotland, even though #witchythings were riding the capitalist zeitgeist. The witchwave was in full swing, with #instagramwitch influencer culture booming.

Trad publishing is always slow. It comes for trends after they have peaked and are near consumer exhaustion. My book was picked up during the feeding frenzy for witch books.

The sites I mapped and uncovered—sometimes literally—are now well known to Scottish tour guides. Stories uncovered during the countless hours combing through tedious old privy council records and emailing archeologists and other experts are now repeated as if they have always been common knowledge. Social media has made this possible, and we live in a time where citing your sources no longer matters.

I have never had a baby, but writing a book feels like having a baby—except this one gestated for over five years. And then I handed the baby over to strangers to do with it what they will. So maybe it’s not the best analogy.

But let’s go with it. A three year old might be able play with other children, take turns, and understand sharing, but my book came into a world where this isn’t encouraged. I set her on her way into a selfish, antisocial world, to be judged by the money she could make for others rather than for what she was.

Sometimes I still have pangs of grief about that rather than feelings of joyful achievement. BUT she is three! With thousands of readers (tens of thousands, perhaps). She can now also run and jump—into the hands of other readers who have been waiting to find her.

🧁 Celebrate with me. Here are some ideas:

  • If you are really feeling generous and have read the book, why not leave a review on one of the big sites that collect that kind of thing?
  • Why not check it out from your library or purchase it? Both of these matter—I get paid when these things happen.
  • If your library doesn’t have Ashes & Stones, why not request it?
  • If you know someone who would like my book, tell them about it!
  • If you are in Scotland, visit one of the sites I mention in the book. Leave a non-material offering. There are too many things littering our sacred sites. Instead, leave a song, words of remembrance or a prayer. If you light a candle, take it with you when you leave.
  • Also—as the ribbon on top—consider how we consume media. Things are getting tough out there for creatives. I know many of you reading this are in the same boat. Our work is being stolen. Business models that once supported us now turn to influencers to make culture. Our work is disseminated in ways that don’t benefit us, and there is nothing we can do about it. For instance, did you know that authors are not paid (at least not trad published authors) when you read the book on Kindle Unlimited or listen the audio book on Audible or Spotify? Even buying a used copy—great for the environment—means the author sees none of the money changing hands.

Thank you for being part of this wild journey. If you are interested in my next project, check out the Kickstarter campaign for my novel Widdershins.

Mereswyne

Spirit Pig

Before moving to Scotland, I was learning what I now call hedgewitchery, riding of metaphysical hedges using trance-work commonly referred to as shamanic journeying. In one journey I was given a piglet to hold and care for. That piglet changed my life. It was not long after this that I found the house in Banff in the Northeast of Scotland where I would write Ashes & Stones.

Piglet or Holy Woman?

The house in Banff was literally a leap of faith—into a new landscape with a history and different languages—Scots and Gaelic—with Doric dialect thrown in the mix. The etymology of the name Banff is contested. Is it derived from the Scottish Gaelic banbh meaning ‘piglet’ or is it a contraction of bean-naomh, Gaelic for ‘holy woman’? 

Dolphins—those misunderstood, exploited people of the sea—are at the centre of this question. They are often spotted off the coastline at Banff, and all along the Northeast coast, dolphins are joyful part of the seascape. In 17th-18th century Scots, a mereswynesea pigwas a porpoise or dolphin.

Etymological name-puzzles carry over to Orkney, where I now live.

I am piglet, dragon, cetacean, and woman. What am I? 

Orkney was known to Ptolemy and the Venerable Bede as Orcades, after the Latin orca meaning whale. (There are a lot of Orcas around Orkney.) 

Before 16th century Scots mereswyne, Old English had mereswīn or porpoise. This linguistic link goes back farther still. Before early Modern Scots, before Old English and even before the Norse settlers, there were Iron Age Picts in Orkney called the Orcs. Little remains of their presence save a few expertly carved stones and their name. Orc is a Pictish tribal name meaning young pig. The 9th century Norse settlers met the Picts and either assimilated or destroyed them—no one knows. The settlers saw in the local tribal name Orc their word for seal—orkn. They reinterpreted the name and added eyjar, or islands, to make Orkneyjar—Seal Islands. (There are a lot of seals around Orkney, also.)

Graphic of Pictish stone symbols from the Aberdeenshire Council Website.

The Picts left elaborately carved stones all over Scotland, and some were re-carved with beautiful crosses as they converted to Christianity. The earlier symbols like the crescent and Z rod defy modern understanding, but the animal portraits on the stones show a keen intimacy with the being portrayed—an understanding of the anatomy and movement, of the animal’s presence. The beings on the stones are representations of animals we know today: eagles, boars, deer, bulls, salmon, serpents, bears and others. There’s one exception to this earthly menagerie—the mysterious Pictish ‘beast’. This dragon-like figure is most common on Pictish stones in Northeast Scotland. 

A black and white drawing of a mythical creature with curled 'fins' or legs and a long dragon like snout
Stylised Pictish Beast–Struthious Bandersnatch via wikimedia commons

These stones are rare in Orkney and the Pictish beast is rarer still. In 2016 a violent storm revealed an 8th century Pictish stone wedged in a cliff face in Deerness on the east Mainland. On one side is an elaborately carved Celtic cross, with a Pictish beast on the other. 

a carved stone stands upright in a green field with the ocean in the distance. Pictish symbols decorate the front
Reproduction of the Pictish Stone on Birsay via the Visit Orkney Website

A second Pictish beast was found on a stone on the tidal island of Birsay, carved above another totemic Orkney animal—the sea eagle. Some have argued that the beast is a dragon or kelpie (a water-horse in Scottish folklore), but others see the beast as a dolphin—and I’m inclined to agree.

Marioun

Marioun Pardoun (also named Peblis and Peebles in the record) was executed for the crime of witchcraft in Scalloway in Shetland on the 22nd of March, 1644. She was accused of magically overturning a boat, causing four men to drown. When the bodies were found, Marioun and her husband were required to put their hands on the corpses to determine their innocence. The bodies bled and, in the logic of the time, this proved her guilt. (There is no mention of the husband in the trial record except in Marioun’s tortured reverie.) Details of her ‘waking’ or sleep deprivation were recorded, and her torturers are named—Mans Finlaysone and Jon Erasmussone. The greater the pressure they put on her, the more incoherent her confession became. 

(I translate these words from Helene Willumsen’s transcription of the trial record into contemporary diction.) ‘…when they were waking her she asked where was the husband who was answering her? Speaking concerning her husband, she answered [that] he lay under her head and would not suffer her to confess.’ An accusation is noted in the margin of the trial record: Clothing your spirit with said pellock quaill. A pellock quaill is a dolphin. 

A map of a marine amusement park with several pools for captive animals and tier seats for audiences
A map of the water circus Marineland in the 1980s

Captive

When I was a child I liked to listen to whale and dolphin sounds. I loved their throat songs—the clicking giggles, whistles of joy and foreboding above bass drop of deep water. I had a flexidisc from an issue of National Geographic that I played over and over on my portable turntable. When we moved from the midwest to Southern California, my father took me to Marineland to see some dolphins. It was 1986, a year before the grim place would close for good. Years after my visit, it remained a ruined, graffittied site used by locals as a makeshift skate park until it was developed into a resort. All of this is now sinking into the sea, including the 18th hole at the adjacent Trump golf course. Nostalgic, surreal reveries on Reddit are my only corroborators, with one poster using the phrase ‘fever dream’ to describe their memories of late 80s Marineland. It was once the world’s largest water circus, housing captive dolphins, orcas and seals. Orcas and pilot whales were forced to perform in tiny tanks—their lives often short and tortured. Dolphins leapt through hoops of fire and sea lions were forced to ‘sing’. 

In my recollection, only my father and I are there, standing in wonder before the green murk of the empty ‘shark experience’ tank. We meander through the sun bleached park, around show tanks, their artificial blue depths mirror-still, as if before a storm. I stand alone beside the ‘Dolphin Community Tank’ and a being surfaces. She breathes. I put my hand out and touch the pale grey slip of her forehead. She looks at me and I am in the presence of a spirit clothed with pellock quaill. Her black eye takes me in–looks past to all beyond—over the walls of the park to the wide, bright sea.

Further explorations

A magazine cover showing a young woman looking out a gothic window. She is brewing a potion on her desk

—Tales of Pictish beasts and dolphin transformations inspired my short story, ‘Gald.’  A chance meeting in a post apocalyptic Aberdeenshire changes two young women’s lives forever.  You can read it in Luna Station Quarterly, issue 40—available as a paperback and ebook: https://www.lunastationquarterly.com/issues/040/

Take a stand against the horrific slaughter of whole pods of pilot whales and dolphins in the annual Grindadráp hunt in the Faroe Islands. Just this month, 291 pilot whales were slaughtered in the village of Leynar, including pregnant females and juveniles. Boycott tourism to the Faroe Islands and encourage others to do so. Put pressure on the Faroe Islands government to put an end to this cruel ‘tradition’ that threatens the future of the pilot whale. Find out more here (warning–this link shows footage of the hunt and contains the graphic and violent animal cruelty of the hunt.) https://seashepherd.org/faroeislands/. If you would like to take action without seeing these images, go to this page to write to officials directly.

Dolphin photographer with the Whale and Dolphin conservation society Charlie Philips regularly records and posts beautiful images of Dolphins from the Moray Firth on Mastodon

Laline Paul’s brilliant Pod will haunt you eternally.

Bad Kharma at Marineland in the L.A. Times: https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2023-08-17/palos-verdes-peninsula-marineland-ocean-karma-patt-morrison

—Recovery of the Orcadian Pictish stone in Deerness: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-north-east-orkney-shetland-37798080

Ashes and stones on Herstory on the rocks

Listen to me talk about Ashes and Stones with Katie and Allie of Herstory on the Rocks. I love that Ashes & Stones actually has a cocktail now! I’m a huge fan of Katie & Allie’s podcast—every week they talk about different women in history, and their take is always surprising and engaging, excited to  be in conversation with them.

[Image: black graphic image with a hot pink cocktail glass. A women’s symbol is the garnish. It says the title of the podcast HERstory On The Rocks in hot-pink and white letters]