Whenever I feel uncertain about the direction of my writing, I often turn to what I call the Quintessence Spread. Unlike spreads that attempt to predict future events, this one asks a different question:

What is the essential energy trying to express itself through me at this time?

Each card occupies one of the four classical elements—Fire, Water, Air and Earth—revealing how inspiration, emotion, thought and manifestation are currently interacting. Together they generate a fifth card, the Quintessence, which represents the concentrated essence of the whole spread. Rather than overriding the four elemental cards, the Quintessence shows how their highest qualities may be integrated into a single guiding principle.

Recently I asked the cards about my present efforts to write and publish literary fiction. The resulting spread was striking.

Fire – What inspires me

Queen of Cups

At first glance this seemed an unusual card to occupy the Fire position. Fire is commonly associated with passion, ambition and decisive action, whereas the Queen of Cups belongs to the realm of emotion, intuition and compassion.

My first thought was that perhaps my emotional life was dampening my creative fire.

On reflection, however, the opposite proved true.

The Queen of Cups reminds me that what truly inspires me is not competition or recognition, but the hidden life of the soul. My deepest motivation has always been to write stories that illuminate the unseen connections between people, memory, myth, place and healing. Compassion is not extinguishing my creative fire; it is the very source from which that fire burns.

Water – How I feel

Three of Wands

This fiery card appearing in Water initially felt equally contradictory.

Yet the Three of Wands is fundamentally about looking towards the horizon. It expects ships to arrive. It waits for news.

Emotionally, this perfectly describes the experience of querying agents, publishers and editors. My feelings have become tied to anticipation—waiting for replies, hoping to be understood, wondering whether someone will recognise the work for what it is.

The card gently reminds me that while hope is healthy, my emotional wellbeing cannot become dependent upon external responses. My deepest relationship must remain with the work itself.

Air – What I am thinking

The Magician

The Magician occupies the realm of thought beautifully.

He is originality in action.

He understands that imagination alone is not enough; ideas must be consciously shaped into reality. He possesses every tool necessary for manifestation and reminds me that creative confidence grows through deliberate practice rather than wishful thinking.

This card reassures me that I already possess the knowledge, experience and creative resources needed to write the novel I wish to write.

The challenge is not whether I have the tools.

The challenge is using them consistently.

Earth – What I am manifesting

Page of Cups

The Page of Cups brings imagination into material form.

Everything that grows requires water. Likewise, every meaningful piece of fiction begins with emotional curiosity.

The Page encourages me to remain playful, open and receptive to wonder. Rather than dismissing imagination as mere fantasy, I am reminded that emotional sensitivity is often the birthplace of originality. Curiosity remains one of the greatest creative disciplines.

The Quintessence – The Emperor

When these four elemental energies are brought together, they resolve into The Emperor.

This surprised me.

The Emperor is often misunderstood as a figure of control for its own sake. Yet at his highest expression he represents something much more constructive: architecture, stewardship and responsible leadership.

He does not suppress creativity.

He gives creativity somewhere to live.

The Queen of Cups provides compassion.

The Three of Wands offers vision.

The Magician supplies skill.

The Page of Cups keeps imagination alive.

The Emperor brings structure, discipline and wise boundaries so that these gifts can flourish over the long term.

He understands that excellence is rarely accidental. It emerges through patient craftsmanship, thoughtful organisation and the willingness to remove what no longer serves. Just as a gardener prunes healthy branches to encourage stronger growth, the Emperor knows that refinement is not destruction but an act of care.

For a writer, this may mean strengthening a chapter, rewriting an opening, seeking honest editorial guidance, maintaining a submission strategy, or continuing to write even while waiting for replies.

The Emperor does not abandon inspiration.

He protects it.

Ultimately, this spread reminds me that my creative life does not require less feeling or less imagination. It asks me instead to become a wise custodian of those gifts. When compassion, vision, originality and curiosity are held within a framework of discipline and purpose, they become capable of producing work that is not only beautifully written but also meaningful, enduring and quietly transformative.

Daily Affirmation

Essential oil: Ginger has long been associated with courage, purposeful action, resilience and the strength to overcome obstacles. Its warm, energising aroma encourages confidence, disciplined effort and steady forward movement. Like the Emperor, ginger reminds us that lasting achievement is built through consistent action, wise boundaries and the determination to shape vision into reality.

Each morning, after placing a drop of ginger essential oil in a diffuser or on a tissue and taking a few slow breaths, I will repeat:

I will give disciplined form to my imagination and create stories that heal and endure.

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Prior to using my ginger oil, I will make friends with the ginger plant: I love this exercise from Mary K Greer, but I’ll tailor it specifically to ginger and to my intention of embodying the positive qualities of The Emperor in my writing life.

Meditation with Ginger: Meeting the Emperor Within

I begin by finding a comfortable place where I will not be disturbed. I place a drop of ginger essential oil on a tissue, cotton pad, or in a diffuser. Before lifting it, I close my eyes and allow my breathing to settle into a gentle, natural rhythm.

I imagine myself walking along an ancient path. It may wind through a quiet woodland, across open moorland, or beside a sunlit meadow. There is nowhere I need to arrive. I simply notice the ground beneath my feet, the rhythm of my breathing, the warmth of the sun upon my face, and the coolness of the breeze moving gently through my hair.

When I feel fully present, I lift the ginger oil and allow its fragrance to reach me effortlessly.

As I continue walking, I imagine the warm, earthy scent drifting towards me on the breeze. Curious, I follow it deeper into the landscape.

Eventually the path opens into a peaceful clearing.

There, growing in rich, dark soil, is the ginger plant.

It may look exactly as I expect, or it may appear in an entirely different form—a flowering plant, a radiant golden root, an ancient tree with glowing roots reaching deep into the earth, or something entirely mythical. Whatever form it takes, I trust that this is how my unconscious chooses to reveal it to me.

I approach slowly.

I introduce myself.

I tell the plant why I have come.

Perhaps I seek courage.

Perhaps discipline.

Perhaps confidence in my creative gifts.

Perhaps simply the strength to continue.

I sit quietly beside the plant and allow our conversation to unfold naturally.

I may hear words.

I may receive images.

I may simply experience a feeling.

There is no right or wrong way.

If it feels appropriate, I ask:

How may I become a wiser guardian of my own creativity?

What must I strengthen?

What no longer serves my work?

How may I build stories that endure?

I listen patiently and without expectation.

When our conversation feels complete, I thank the ginger plant for whatever it has shared with me.

If it feels right, I imagine receiving a small gift from the plant—a seed, a root, a glowing ember, or another symbolic object representing courage, disciplined creativity, and purposeful action. I accept this gift with gratitude and gently place it within my heart, knowing that its qualities are becoming part of me.

Slowly, I begin walking back along the path.

With every step I become more aware of my physical body.

I feel my feet firmly connected to the earth.

I notice the support of the chair beneath me.

I become aware once more of my breathing.

I take one final breath of the ginger oil, allowing its warmth to remind me that true authority begins within.

When I am ready, I gently open my eyes, carrying with me the quiet confidence of the Emperor—the wisdom to nurture my inspiration with discipline, the courage to remove what no longer serves, and the patience to build work of lasting beauty, purpose, and healing.

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