Friends and strangers, beginners and those advancing in their practice, often ask for book recommendations on paganism, witchcraft, deities, and related topics. I’m slowly building lists of my recommended reading, such as this collection of resources to learn more about Hekate. People ask why I don’t recommend certain popular books. Here’s why.
I haven't read the book
The most likely reason I don’t recommend a particular book is simply that I haven’t read it.
First, I don’t read as much as I’d like. I follow friends on Goodreads who devour 15 books monthly, whilst I manage about that many in a year. In 2021, I read 22 books total.
Second, I rarely read titles from contemporary pagan and magickal publishing houses. Of those 22 books last year, only eight related to paganism and witchcraft and that was because I participated in two book clubs for Witches. I skip most current bestsellers because they typically target beginners. After nearly 30 years as a practising witch, I find limited value in these introductory texts, though there are always exceptions.
I'm not comfortable recommending the book
When deciding whether to recommend a book, I evaluate several key factors: historical accuracy, the author’s expertise and devotional experience, and whether the content suits its intended audience.
How accurate is the book?
Whilst I don’t expect academic rigour from every pagan title, I do appreciate solid research and proper citations through a bibliography.
I particularly value hearing about an author’s personal devotion, practice, and gnosis. When an author makes an unusual claim—say, that haggis makes an excellent offering for Hekate—I want them to explain why and cite their source, whether historical precedent or personal revelation. I appreciate both approaches; I simply ask for transparency.
Incidentally, I think haggis could indeed make a wonderful offering for Hekate.
Who is the author?
I expect authors to demonstrate genuine history with their subject matter. Publishing trends in paganism and witchcraft sometimes encourage authors to write about their latest interest or chase popular topics, resulting in superficial work that lacks true competence. Some authors seem to force square pegs into round holes.
Transparency remains crucial here. I’ve enjoyed books chronicling someone’s spiritual discovery journey, but I want to know that’s what I’m picking up. If you don’t know something, don’t pretend you do.
Who is this book for?
One of the most concerning problems I observe is books marketed to beginners that contain unsafe practices.
For example, it’s entirely appropriate to mention that some Hekatean witches engage in necromancy—explaining why we do this, the historical context, and relevant considerations. However, it’s irresponsible and potentially dangerous to teach necromantic techniques to beginners who barely understand protection and purification, let alone how to safely call upon unknown spirits of the dead.
An author might wash their hands of responsibility, leaving readers to assess safety for themselves, but beginners often can’t recognise these risks. If someone seeks my guidance, I have a duty of care to take reasonable steps to prevent foreseeable harm.
Is the book well-written?
Poor writing isn’t necessarily a deal-breaker, but grammatical and spelling errors prove distracting. Books lacking clear structure, that reads like collections of blog entries, or that require multiple re-readings to parse meaning, don’t make for enjoyable experiences. Quality books benefit enormously from good editors.
Should you read everything?
It’s common advice to “read everything—the good, the bad, and everything between.” I don’t subscribe to this philosophy.
First, experienced practitioners can distinguish between valuable and problematic (even dangerous) information, but beginners often cannot. I can think of several books that beginners praise enthusiastically whilst making advanced practitioners cringe. As a teacher, I prefer directing students toward the best available resources.
Second, my time and money are limited. I’d rather invest in books that genuinely enrich my understanding. Whilst there’s theoretically something to learn from every book—even poor ones—I’ve likely encountered those lessons before, often multiple times.
That said, I do read problematic books occasionally. My reasons vary: curiosity, historical significance, book club selections, friends’ recommendations, or compelling subject matter. But reading something doesn’t mean I’ll recommend it.
Final thoughts
Writing demands hard work, and publishing any book represents a genuine accomplishment. I’m not interested in tearing writers down. Whilst I’m not afraid to critique books when necessary, that’s rarely the best use of my time. I prefer focusing on works that contribute something fresh, challenge my thinking, and advance my practice.
The photograph shows what is a rare copy of my Wiccan Roots. My surname is Heselton not Hestleton. The publishers corrected that very quickly such that I suspect the mis-spelt copies are very valuable ( like the Post Office Mauritius stamps!
Philip, how lovely of you to leave a comment on my blog; I’m delighted. I’ve had that copy of ‘Wiccan Roots’ for a long time.