-

 

A Love Letter to Beyond the Broomstick by Asteria Moonsilver

Some books teach, and then there are books that remember for you—that whisper truths your soul already knows but may have forgotten in the static of the world. Asteria Moonsilver’s Beyond the Broomstick is one of those rare treasures.





I picked this up on a quiet night during a stretch of work travel, curled up under the glow of a bedside lamp in yet another unfamiliar room. I was tired, a little homesick for my altar and my circle back in Kansas City, and I needed something more than just distraction. I needed nourishment. And gods, did this book deliver.

Moonsilver doesn’t just write about witchcraft—she lives it. Every sentence in Beyond the Broomstick feels like sitting with a wise, wry friend who knows her herbs, her shadows, and her worth. There’s something fiercely grounded about the way she invites you into her world—not as a teacher perched above, but as a companion walking beside you.

This book isn’t about how to be the “right kind” of witch. It’s about being your kind of witch. Moonsilver gently, firmly, and sometimes hilariously guides you past the glittery gatekeeping and into the messy, holy truth of living a magical life in a very unmagical world. She covers everything from practical rituals and intuitive spellwork to the deeper soul-work that happens between full moons when the candles are out and it’s just you and your reflection.

I especially appreciated how much of her is in these pages—not just the knowledge, but the heart. The vulnerability. The scars and sacredness. It’s not a “how-to” as much as it is a “come with me.” That kind of writing is rare. That kind of magic is even rarer.

And whether you’re a seasoned hedge-rider or someone just beginning to sense the pull of the moon, Beyond the Broomstick meets you exactly where you are—and then nudges you just a little further. Gently. Fiercely. Magically.

So if you’re in need of a spiritual companion—especially one with both wit and wisdom—get this book. Let it sit on your nightstand. Let it travel with you. Let it be dog-eared, tea-stained, and loved.

Because some books don’t just find you. They call you home.

🔮✨
Read Beyond the Broomstick by Asteria Moonsilver here: Amazon Link

While your at it, check out her other book, When Live Laugh Love Turns to Curse Hex Spell here: Amazon Link

Comments

  1. Laugh. It's Life in ProgressApril 20, 2025 at 5:48 AM

    I have added this recommendation to my list. I can't wait to read it. I've drifted from looking for new witchy books just due to all the beginner genre that just feel like a repeat of ages of teachings I've scoured decades ago.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

🔥 The Torchbearers: A Call to the Witches Who Stayed

-
Image
  This isn’t for the trend-chasers. This isn’t for the moon-phase influencers, the aesthetic covens, or the ones who skimmed a Llewellyn book and declared themselves a High Priestess on Tuesday. This is for the ones who stayed . The witches who ran public rituals and built community spaces on shoestring budgets. The ones who got their degrees in theology, anthropology, history—anything to understand the bones of what we do. The ones who studied by candlelight, held circles in basements and backyards, and never once filmed themselves doing it for clout. You know who you are. You’ve been looked down on for not dressing the part. For stepping outside in jeans and a t-shirt instead of flowing robes and Instagram filters. For walking through metaphysical shops and not needing to announce your power—because it lives in your bones. You’ve had fifteen-year-olds talk over you on social media, dismissing your decades of practice because they watched a tarot video or learned abo...
Read more
-
Image
  Missing My Circle Under a Distant Moon There’s a certain kind of homesickness that doesn’t have a zip code. I’ve been thinking about my circle back in Kansas City—the women and men who held space with me, cast with me, wept, and laughed under the same sky with me. The ones who passed the salt with the tequila with the exact same reverence as a sacred chalice, who knew the exact moment a spell had landed by the goosebumps on their arms. My witches. My soul family. I miss them more than I expected. It hits me in strange ways. Like when I see the moon at her fullest, glowing behind the evergreens here in Washington, and I instinctively reach for my phone to text someone in the group— "Are you feeling this too?" But we’re scattered now. Different time zones. Different lives. Still tethered, but not in the same room, not around the same altars or fire pits. Back in Kansas City, we’d gather around tables cluttered with gaming decks, tarot decks, bundles of drying herbs, and ...
Read more

Who the Hell Am I?

-
Image
🌿 Who the Hell Am I? I’m a Gen X witch with dirt under my nails, fire in my gut, and a sharp tongue that’s survived decades of bullshit—and isn’t done talking yet. I walk the crooked path with a pocket full of herbs, a heart full of ancestral memory, and a deep, simmering refusal to play nice for the sake of anyone’s comfort. My practice is rooted in earth medicine and rebellion—because I believe healing and resistance are intertwined. I blend old-world magic with modern-day grit, call on the spirits, trust the plants, and speak truth even when my voice shakes (and trust me, sometimes it does—rage and grief both live here). I’m an herbalist by calling, an activist by necessity, and a smart-ass by birthright. I don’t do love-and-light unless it’s flickering over the ruins of outdated systems. I honor the sacred, but I don’t bow to gurus. I honor the ancestors, but I don’t romanticize the past. I honor the plants, the land, the stories—and I try not to take myself too seriously in th...
Read more