Monday has often been Monstrous Monday here at The Other Side for a very long time. A mirror into what I am working on at any given point in time. But for the next few months, I am turning the mirror in a manner of speaking. And the mirror is an apt metaphor for what I am doing.
The monsters will still be present; they always are. This time, though, I'm focusing on the witches who confront them, call them into being, control them, get rid of them, or even turn into them. I want to think of 1986 not just as a date, but as a breeding ground for imagination.
For me, 1986 isn't about warm, fuzzy nostalgia. It is a lens to focus my attention.
It's the hardback Advanced Dungeons & Dragons books on the table, odd paperbacks found in used bookstores, heavy metal music, scary films, late-night TV, school libraries, local stories, and that feeling of books your parents wouldn't let you read. It's the year when fantasy games, talk of the occult, and being a teenager all felt crammed into one shadowy room, with a general sense of fear from the Satanic Panic and a sense that something…more existed.
That's where two things I'm working on intersect.
One is Advanced Witches & Warlocks, my take on a retro witch book, as if the AD&D witch finally got the attention she deserved around 1986. It's aiming for release around Halloween 2026, which feels fitting. Witches should appear in October.
The other is Jackson, IL, a modern supernatural setting in the Midwest, centered on odd towns in the middle of the country, teenage witches, haunted schools, local monsters, hidden family histories, and the strangeness of growing up in 1986. This one is different; it doesn't have a release date. It might not even be published in a typical way. It's going to be about 80,000 words before I can even say it's a book, and it isn't there yet, but it’s progressing.
However, these two projects are constantly influencing each other.
They aren't the same book, or even the same style of book. Advanced Witches & Warlocks is all about fantasy gaming, character classes, occult magic, witch lore, warlock groups, magical spells, animal helpers (familiars), and what the witch should be like alongside the Cleric, Magic-User, Druid and Illusionist.
Jackson, IL, is small-town horror. It’s the high school hall, the library, the old graveyard, the pizza place, the road leading past the cornfields, the local university, the occult store in town, and the house that everyone knows about but nobody discusses. It's about teenage witches in a world where adults have carefully constructed their lives to act as if the supernatural isn't genuine.
One is the witch as a character in AD&D.
One is the witch as the girl in homeroom who understands the mirror is showing a false image.
And the central question for both of them is the same:
When 1986 is the focus of the imagination lens, what does a witch actually look like?
In a fantasy setting inspired by 1986, a witch is much more than just someone on a broom who casts spells; her origins lie in folklore, fairy tales, frightening tales, hidden knowledge, the books Appendix N lists, and the stranger parts of fantasy. She’s part of a group of witches, follows certain customs and has powerful figures she answers to, observes forbidden practices, performs ceremonies under the moon, and taps into ancient powers that aren't easily contained in spellbooks or churches.
She isn't a Cleric. Clerics have a church, a god, and openly stated beliefs. And she isn't a Magic-User, because Magic-Users study, have specific formulas, and believe the universe can be written down completely.
A Witch has something much older and more personal; she has connections. Connections to spirits, the land, her ancestors, the moon, old gods, and, really, to be honest, things that are best left unmentioned. She understands magic isn't only something you learn, but something you receive from family, get through deals, endure, and occasionally live through.
And that’s how it is in fantasy.
But in 1986, in the real world, the witch is a bit different, although not as different as you'd think.
She’s the new student who seems to know a lot, the quiet one who hears things in empty rooms, the head cheerleader who keeps everyone protected but won't admit to how afraid she is, the outsider with the family that's been around forever, or the girl who happens to find the right (or wrong) book at the library…and it’s as if the book was waiting for her.
She exists amongst lockers, telephone landlines, cassette tapes, school bells, what everyone in town is saying, and teachers who might not be entirely human. The school after hours is her dungeon, the roads leading out of town are her wilderness, and her temple is the bedroom floor late at night, with candles, a notebook, and a mirror that shows more than it should.
Both of these witches are liminal, in-between people.
And that’s the essential point.
A witch is on the boundary. The edge of town, the edge of social groups, the edge of the church, the edge of family, the edge of becoming an adult, the edge of the map. She knows where the lines are because she's crossed them, and sometimes she chose to, other times she was forced.
That’s why witches work so well in old-fashioned gaming. Dungeons & Dragons always liked boundaries: dungeons and the wild, law and chaos, the village and the ruins, human and monster, the living and the divine. A witch belongs in that boundary zone.
And that’s also why they suit teenage horror. Being a teenager is a boundary zone. You aren't a child, but you're not an adult yet, and everyone is misleading you about both. You’re expected to follow rules you didn't create, you're given a future you might not even want, you're observed, evaluated, underestimated, and told to stay away from doors that someone else has already opened.
That’s where a witch finds her place.
The Midwest is important here as well.
These aren't Salem witches, not exactly, and not the glamorous witches of Hollywood. The witch of the Midwest lives amongst brick school buildings, university towns, country roads, old cemeteries, the changeable prairie weather, church potlucks, basement playrooms, and libraries with surprisingly good collections of occult books.
She knows the local ghost stories. She knows which road to avoid in the dark. She knows who lived in that house before the current family changed the name. She understands that not all monsters come from Transylvania or from Hell; some are created by the cursed land surrounding the old town, in the drainage ditch, beneath the old bridge, or in the quiet that exists between what everyone says and what nobody will talk about.
That’s where Jackson, IL is.
And that's where Advanced Witches & Warlocks is also finding a new foundation.
The fantasy witch and the teenage witch aren't separated in my mind; they are each other’s reflections. One wears a purple dress and a black cloak, the other wears jeans, boots, and an excessive amount of eyeliner for a Monday. One has a familiar and a Book of Shadows, the other has a cat that isn't quite a cat and a notebook hidden under her mattress.
Both of them understand the same truth.
People who are respectable act as if magic isn't real, because acknowledging it would change everything.
This series, Mirror Mondays: The Witches of 1986, is where I’m going to look at that reflection.
Some weeks I’ll be more focused on Advanced Witches & Warlocks; talking about witch types, magical practices, familiars, traditions, warlocks, spells, monsters, and creating a witch's book that feels as if it could have existed in the AD&D period without just copying old texts.
Other weeks I’ll focus on Jackson, Illinois; teenage witches, haunted schools, folklore from the Midwest, local monsters, bad roads, strange teachers, shops with occult items, and why 1986 is the perfect year for supernatural horror.
Most weeks will be somewhere in the middle.
That's the unusual intersection where both projects come together.
The mirror is now open.
Mirror Shards: The Mirror Between Larina Nichols and Larina Nix
Not every magical object starts as something valuable.
Some begin as a simple question.
A witch looks in the mirror and sees herself...but not the person standing in the room. She sees another life, another world, another version of the same soul. One that is older, stronger, stranger, and maybe even more dangerous.
For Advanced Witches & Warlocks, this mirror might be an ancient magical object, a way to see into the future or a risky way for witches to get in touch with alternate selves, echoes of their mentors or their future selves.
But for Jackson, Illinois, it's more personal. A teenage witch sees the woman she could become, or the woman she was somewhere else, or the woman who is protecting her from a fantasy world that shouldn't be real.
The mirror doesn't question in a straightforward way. That would be too simple.
It shows what could be.
It shows a warning.
It shows power.
And sometimes, when the room is dark and the house is quiet, the image in the mirror moves first.
I am focusing on this witch in particular because she has a pedigree. She was created as an AD&D character in 1986. She is my window into this liminal and reflected world. She was a playtest character for every version of the witch class I ever wrote, including AD&D and NIGHT SHIFT.
I have another post I am picking at, "What I Learned Playing the Same Character for 40 Years," and some of that insight feeds into this and vice versa. She is the test bed, as I have said before, my "Drosophila melanogaster" of these tests. When playing a game, I ask, "What would Larina do here?" When designing one, I ask, "How can I do Larina here?" Both questions have served me well over the last 4 decades.
There are a handful of witches, both characters and personalities, as well as more simple archetypes, that I use when testing any game I play and any game I write. Larina is the most forward-facing of these witches. She isn't the only one. Elowen still gets a lot of play, as does Moria, Amaranth, and others. But Larina has a lot of history, both in games and in the real world.
A Mirror Shard in both games is a means to communicate with other versions of yourself. Or other versions of others. It is a sneaky little device I have thrown into my games when I want to try out one version of a character in another's universe. Valerie Beaumont is a regular abuser of these mirror shards. She isn't even my character, and she keeps crashing into my games.
Which brings up an interesting point.
In Advanced Witches & Warlocks, the "mirror shards" are the magic items connected to the magical mirrors.
In Jackson, IL, "mirror shards" are the people you see in the mirror that are not you.
Both developed from the same fundamental idea and then took on different meanings in my writing. I don't really feel the need to reconcile these differences. Different games. Different universes. But there is something fairly evocative about calling these characters mirror shards.
Larina is a mirror shard. Valerie is a mirror shard. Even someone like Jenny Everywhere is a mirror shard.
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| Greg: "I feel sorry for the guy who tries to buy them a drink!" |
Candy and Denise in Jackson, IL, are mirror shards of Candella and Duchess in Glantri. Or is that the other way around?
It is because they are "mirror shards" that they heard the Bell in Jackson, IL, when only supernatural creatures heard it. They are not supernatural, but they are special.
An out-of-game idea for one is giving me an in-game solution for another.
I have quite a lot more to say on all of this.
