What can novel writing teach us about Mercury retrograde?

and how to work with this energy

It’s hard to escape the rumblings on the internet and social media these days when Mercury’s about to go retrograde. People panic, especially when they only have a simplistic understanding of how Mercury retrograde energy works, expecting things to start going immediately wrong.

Here’s something else that might blow your mind (it certainly blew mine when I first found out)—all planets go retrograde, all at different times, some of them for months, and they all represent different energies and affect us differently.

Mercury’s retrograde is simply the most famous of the bunch, likely because it likes to have its retrograde three to four times a year, which is the most out of all the planets. However, its retrograde period is the shortest, lasting only three weeks (not including the before and after shadow period).

But what does it mean when Mercury or any planet goes retrograde, and how can I tie this in with writing?

Planet Volumes via Unsplash

Anytime a planet goes retrograde, regardless of its various energies, it means one thing: It’s time to reassess and reconfigure.

This is why astrologers are always warning us to not start any new projects. A retrograde period is a period of slowing down and taking a step back to look at our work. Are we headed in the right direction? Are we following our instincts or trying to force patterns?

I like to think of the universe as one big developmental editor, and a retrograde is a revision.

We spend months working on our drafts, but once we’ve reached a certain point in our writing journey, it’s time to send it to an editor. The editor will read and analyze, and they’ll get back to you with their findings: plot holes, inconsistencies, implausibilities, etc. Basically, everything that’s holding your story back from reaching its best possible form. Then we go in and adjust the areas that need adjustment.

During a retrograde period (and, honestly, this applies to eclipse season, too), we let the universe do its work. These periods are times when the universe needs to shift gears and rearrange the scene.

I’m not a big fan of the movie The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, but there’s a scene in it that lives rent-free inside my head. Benjamin gives a discourse on how life can sometimes feel like we’re all on a collision course. He begins to tell the story of how Daisy gets hit by a taxi and how a myriad of events happened leading up to the accident. If any single one of those had not happened, Daisy would’ve avoided getting hit.

I think about that all the time. I think about the million tiny moments in between the big moments that we can’t see, that are happening in simultaneous succession, adding up to bigger moments, taking care of the timing of life.

I’ve been thinking a lot about it recently as I work on my novel, as I try to construct this pivotal scene that will dictate how the rest of the narrative moves, as I try to strategize the placement of these characters around, to create the most efficient and credible flow for this scene. I’m playing the part of Mercury, as I take a step back and try to look at the picture from a distance, as I try to arrange the lives of these characters so that things can move more swiftly, and so they can reach their greater goals. And by all means, I am f*cking sh*t up for them because this feels like the most natural course of events. It needs to happen this way first. This, more than anything, has helped me understand retrograde energy.

There’s a mantra I like to say to myself when things start to go wrong for seemingly no reason. When I’m trying to get somewhere and there’s a sudden traffic jam, or if I’m flying and there are delays. If I’m at the grocery and the person ahead of me has decided to pay with cash and exact change and is digging through her very large, very deep tote bag for that last penny that she swore she saw in there but also isn’t sure if it’s back in the car.

I tell myself, “I’m not in charge of the flow of the universe.” And it helps to ground me again. Though I have control of the direction in which I’m trying to steer my life in, I’m not the sole author of my story. My life is still up to the changes and shifts of the universe. And I have to learn to accept that. I have to let go of control.

There are few other moments where we can experience this Mercurial retrograde power from the other side like we do with writing. Our characters don’t know what’s coming. But we do. Jane Austen knew that Elizabeth would first be disappointed and infuriated by Mr. Darcy before falling for him in Pride and Prejudice. Nora Ephron knew that Harry and Sally would go through many heartbreaks before realizing they were meant for each other in When Harry Met Sally. And though these characters complained and fumed and thrashed and hurt, in the end, they got something better, more refined. Something meant exclusively for them.

But how much easier would it have been for them if only they had trusted the universe, if they had known things would work out for them? That blips are temporary. Everything is temporary.

Imagine if we could breathe through the wild cards that life throws at us (whether you believe they were thrown at us by the energy of some planet or not). Imagine if we could trust that the reassessment of life that happens during these times—when we get a flat tire, when our flight is late, when the internet is down—is so that life can buy us time so that it can rearrange itself to better fit the form that will bring us what suits us best.

Our positions on this planet are so small, but from our perspectives, we are enormous. Sometimes it feels like we are planets ourselves, affecting everything around us. And everything else must revolve around us. And by all means, we do affect things. We are prone to consequences. But we’re also no more than a spec of dust. And we are affected by so much more than our brains can ever begin to imagine.

So whether you believe in retrograde or not, it helps to remember that sometimes letting go of outcomes, of controlling our environments and every aspect of our lives, is the only card we can play. Honestly, it’s the best card. No card offers more freedom. And who knows, the results may just surprise and delight you.

---

Novel writing update

I got some last-minute work that has kept me busy the past weeks and away from working on my novel. However, I should be free again this week and able to start giving it my full attention again. My novel isn’t a murder mystery, but there is a murder, and I do wonder if anyone ever tried to pants a murder mystery before and whether such a thing is achievable.

This is one writing instance of which I feel I’m not going to be able to pants my way out. Careful detailing will be needed because placing the wrong character in the wrong place at the wrong time could set off an irreversible, tangled mess of a thread. And as someone who crochets, there’s nothing more frustrating than having to pause my crochet to untangle some yarn. Or worse, to have to frog it and start over.

(Though, given the topic of this newsletter, maybe I need to shift my perspective next time my yarn gets tangled, and rather than curse, breathe through it, right?)

What it comes down to is: I either take my time figuring out how this complex scene is going to play out now, or I’ll be forced to rewrite and work it out later, possibly during another retrograde.

---

Fun find of the week

Here is the scene I speak of earlier in the newsletter. Here is the scene that haunts me in my day-to-day life. Here is the concept that I can’t stop thinking about as I move through life wondering, thinking about the dominos game that makes up reality as we know it.

---

Hi there, I’m Maria! I’m a freelance fiction editor assisting women writers in amplifying their voices through their writing. You can find me on Instagram @theintuitivedesk. Or visit my site
www. theintuitivedesk.com to find out more.

I’m also a writer currently working on too many novels at the same time. You can read some of my past writings here.

This newsletter is free, but if you would feel inclined to leave a tip, I would be grateful for your support.