I was pretty much floored by the New York Witch Festival.
Despite the fact that my host had described it to me, I had pictured something much smaller. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the right visual. I was expecting, I dunno, six speakers, twenty tables, a medium-sized room, a lot of schmoozing.
Instead, it was a huge ballroom with easily 200 tables. It was jammed with people, with vendors, with readers, with shiny distracting things. Jammed. Plus a steady schedule of workshops, live music, and a Samhain ritual.
My workshop went really well and was very full. I sold every book I brought with me (which wasn’t that many, but that’s because I don’t usually sell all that many, even at big events.)
Plus, I dunno, I was suddenly moved to be in Long Island, the birthplace of traditional Wicca in the U.S., the home of the oldest Gardnerian covens in the U.S., some of which are still running. I was touched by that; I felt rooted.
