the new moon in gemini for writers
with writing prompts
I wanted to write a long essay for this newsletter, but the ongoing requirements of moving and pre-existing prep work for teaching commitments have left me with less time and space than is ideal.
Which is, perhaps, fitting, because this New Moon, arriving this Sunday, June 18th at 26* of Gemini in the wee hours of the morning, 12:37am Eastern, is best served by being as direct as possible.
Getting from A to B in a circumspect, linear fashion is not Gemini’s strong suit. Perhaps better to say, it’s not Gemini’s preferred mode of travel. Gemini is the collector, the magpie, the gossip (in the best way): the off-the-books source of information and connections. The investigative journalist, the poet; one of Mercury’s children who can embody the trickster and the psychopomp, both. Think Gwendolyn Brooks, Salman Rushdie, Walt Whitman, Ralph Waldo Emerson, the Marquis de Sade, Jamaica Kincaid, but/and/also Lidia Yuknavitch, Paul Beatty, Lilly Dancyger, Esmé Weijun Wang, Brandon Taylor — all Gemini (sun) writers.
One of this season’s strengths, in writing and in archetype, is knowing that there are many available truths, and is their (dual bodied, as symbolized by the Gemini twins) ability to embody multiple perspectives simultaneously.
But what’s needed for such perspective to succeed artistically on the page and to be shared effectively off the page in life is discernment.
Which is… lacking, shall we say, this New Moon. Or at least, it is harder to access.
This New Moon is square dreamy, foggy Neptune, which makes us especially prone to see the truth that we want to see. Susceptible to our own bias, we are more likely to believe the illusion (or delusion). To craft a narrative that suits our purposes, but that is, perhaps, not fair to others — or, depending on your proclivities, to yourself.
There is, however, some small medicine, which is that the moon, which is so sensitive to the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves, is co-present with Mercury. And how lucky for us that, during Gemini season and a tough Gemini New Moon, the trickster themselves is home in Gemini, which means that Mercury, our androgynous mentor who revels in the greys of life, is in charge of all this mess.
With Mercury involved in this conversation, we aren’t just feeling the purported “truth” of illusions or beliefs. (And feelings, however real they feel, aren’t facts.) We are pushed to actually fucking talk about it. To process the feelings through writing or conversation.
Incidentally, my brand new workshop Tell it Slant: Uncovering the Truth in Memoir meets tomorrow, Sunday afternoon at 1pm Eastern. If you’re looking for a container to process those feels-true-but-are-they-true stories in what you’re writing about.
This is the saving grace, the medicine: others can offer helpful mirrors that reflect ourselves back to ourselves. Whether through a coffee meetup with a loved one, a deep dive journal session you can return to later, a class like Tell it Slant, or a therapy session, leaning into the Mercury, at home in Gemini, over the Neptune, where possible, will be helpful.
Directness can be hard in such lunations, but finding a container for the feelings so that we can blunder through the fog and into the truth of what we are saying is important.
As is gentleness with ourselves in these tough times. And remembering that there are many truths, always.
In case Gemini season has you catching up on all things audio, I’ve been on a few podcasts lately, talking religious trauma and parental estrangement with Eryn Johnson on Living Open and deep diving into astrology with Sally Tamarkin on Oh, I Like That. And my memoir Heretic just got shouted out by Lucy Dacus on MUNA’s podcast, Gayotic, which is also just a very fun episode where they start out talking about their Big Threes and astrology — it’s a great listen.
Also! Saturn stations retrograde in Pisces this weekend. This happens once a year, very normal, and is generally an opportunity to review your relationship to the boundaries and structures that are working for you. But, in Pisces, there’s especially an opportunity to review your relationship to art, aesthetics, and creativity. And, don’t you know, I have a lecture that’s perfect for that — Poison & Cure: The Art & Literature of Saturn in Pisces.
Writing Prompts for the New Moon in Gemini
What stories are you currently caught up in, about yourself or others? What feels true? How did you come to this perspective?
Are there assumed truths that you are challenging for yourself right now — whether about yourself, your family, or on a larger scale of spirituality or culture or something else? How does this feel?
Is there something you are beginning in this moment? What is it? What curiosities and conversations does it bring up? Where is the temptation for illusion? What kinds of mercurial endeavors — journaling, writing, conversations — might help to temper that?
Thank you for reading this edition of astrology for writers. I am a working writer, and this newsletter is only possible because of folks who support my work with paid subscriptions. Your patronage is appreciated more than you know.