Our Llewellyn Virtual Author Forums are a bi-monthly series of free online roundtable events featuring your favorite Llewellyn authors discussing topics important to you and answering your questions. Our latest in the series, on Creativity and Your Magical Craft, featured Inspiring Creativity Through Magick author Astrea Taylor; Mickie Mueller, author of Llewellyn's Little Book of Halloween; Laura Tempest Zakroff, author of Visual Alchemy; and Raechel Henderson, author of The Natural Home Wheel of the Year. Did you miss the live presentation? Watch it on demand now!

August 25, 2023—2pmCT Join us for our next Llewellyn Virtual Author Forum! This bi-monthly series of free online roundtable events will feature your favorite Llewellyn authors discussing topics important to you and answering your questions. Our next in the series, on Creativity and Your Magical Craft, will feature Inspiring Creativity Through Magick author Astrea Taylor; Mickie Mueller, author of Llewellyn's Little Book of Halloween; Laura Tempest Zakroff, author of Visual Alchemy; and Raechel Henderson, author of The Natural Home Wheel of the Year. Whether you are in a creative rut or fired up about a new idea, join the conversation and chime in with questions. We'll be

Readers, please enjoy this guest blog post by Debra DeAngelo, author of The Elements of Horse Spirit, Pagan Curious, and the new Sacred Massage. Are you starving? Not for food—for touch. We need sustenance (food) to survive physically, but we also need kinesthetic sustenance—loving physical contact—to survive psychologically. Without it, we yearn for "something" to satisfy that perpetual, aching emptiness, and we try various methods. A vodka martini. Another pair of shoes. A piece of cake; maybe the whole thing. These things may satisfy for the moment, but before long, we're awash again in that familiar gnawing need for "something." It's touch. Touch has been vilified in

Readers, please enjoy this guest blog post by Erin Newman, author of the new Answer Within. First off, let me say that everything I'm about to offer here is always in process for me. Meaning, I don't feel like there's ever an end to the transformation or growth possible, and I don't feel like I've gotten to a place where I can claim that I'm "done" or "healed" or have fully integrated all of these lessons or knowings. Which can sound kind of depressing—like, do I really have to keep doing this, forever? But without growth, we'd just be stagnant and well…boring. And how could there be an upper limit to joy or fun or expansion, anyway? So, while I know that I'll never be "done" with