On January 29th, 2025 the Lunar New Year sheds its skin, and emerges into the Year of the Wood Snake.
Mysterious and maligned, the Snake is a misunderstood beast. Sixth of the twelve animals of the Chinese Zodiac’s cycling universe, the coils of the Snake represent the inner self, the unknown, and that which cannot be held.
For a writer, the Snake is the sting of mystery. Can the world’s white noise be rendered graspable? Can we reassess the familiar, and remember that some part will always be out of reach?
The Wood Snake in particular, invokes the blank slate, the empty page. When linked to the element of Wood, the Snake stands for the infinite possibility of emptiness. It is a time for new beginnings, to try new things, to keep in mind all that can be possible when preconceptions clear away.
Strongest in early Summer the Snake is associated with the quiet, inner fire of life, and paves the way for the heedless exuberance of next year’s Fire Horse.
Here is a look into the kind of fortune the Snake might portend for writers of every year sign.
Rat
Years: 1924, 1936, 1948, 1960, 1972, 1984, 1996, 2008, 2020
This year the details seem to slip away. No matter how many problems you open up, smaller problems seem to rest inside. Words can only ever approximate the truth: pick a favorite problem and see if you can reframe it. Is the failure a problem, or is it part of the unevenness and texture that is reality?
As your Arts Star transitions to the Robbery Star the year sharpens to a blade before you. You will have to grasp one end or the other. It is a year for loss and ruthlessness. You will lose favorite words, scenes, pages, ideas, and yet, the Snake reminds us nothing is ever lost. Absence is also presence, one that is subtle and potent.
Ox
Years: 1925, 1937, 1949, 1961, 1973, 1985, 1997, 2009, 2021
This year the ground shifts beneath your feet. Maybe you’re seeing a project in a new light, maybe the outside world is intruding on your routine. It may bring you peace to make your own stability. Carve out a time and space to which you can be constant, and it will bring you constancy in return.
This year you are part of the Western Triad—between the Ox and Snake persistence meets flexibility. For professional gains look to the Rooster’s social flair, reaching out, pitching ideas, coordinating projects, and putting yourself in the public eye. Pay attention to first impressions. Flash isn’t everything, but sometimes substance finds it a useful friend.
Tiger
Years: 1926, 1938, 1950, 1962, 1974, 1986, 1998, 2010, 2022
As your ominously named Death Star rises in the Snake, this is a year to take stock of your situation. The slipperiness of the Snake is said to frustrate the Tiger—this may be a year where nothing much seems to make sense, where all around you seem to be false fronts and false starts. Trust yourself, and focus on the process, the moment, the page, the simple pleasure of picking one more word.
Like a sunning snake or sleepy cat, this is also a year to bask. Try to rest mindfully. Don’t slump into vice as a mere distraction, avoidance, or guilty escape. Commit to pleasure. Be mindful of what you do for joy and you may be surprised how it feeds your art. Whether the tiger eats or rests, loves or hunts, it does exactly as it should.
Rabbit
Years: 1927, 1939, 1951, 1963, 1975, 1987, 1999, 2011, 2023
In your native element of Wood, you may find your natural sensitivities amplified. Terms like joy, anger, and anxiety are rough umbrellas for countless sensations too specific and precise to name. When you next journal, stop and consider not just your thoughts, but these infinite feelings that we name too bluntly. Can you pinpoint the fine distinctions? Can you name what makes them yours? What do they become when they meet the page?
The Snake is also your Travelling Horse Star, suggesting movement. It’s a year in which you may cover a lot of ground, move from idea to idea, or else circle a restless pivot that won’t sit quite right. When in doubt, cut the snare, be free.
Dragon
Years: 1928, 1940, 1952, 1964, 1976, 1988, 2000, 2012, 2024
As the year of the Wood Dragon ends and your Age Star passes, you enter a new phase of life. Things may feel upside down this year as the fullness of the Dragon shifts to the emptiness of the Snake. Take this chance to pay attention to what is confounding or strange in your writing: scenes that confuse, images that captivate you alone, visions that feel potent for reasons you don’t understand. A new horizon is strange by necessity.
Lastly, with the Robbery Star, it’s a time to both hoard and discard. What preconceptions you shed and what new obsessions you take on is up to you alone, regardless of how peculiar. What a dragon deems precious is treasure by default.
Snake
Years: 1929, 1941, 1953, 1965, 1977, 1989, 2001, 2013, 2025
As you meet your own year, a Zodiac is said to meet their Age Star. The sign of a new phase of life, it is a delicate transition, a tender new skin. Somewhere a radical transformation is ready to take place, perhaps one that scares you. Change arrives where we least expect, but the Snake has power to shape themselves. What is the transformation you are looking for? What is the first step to making it reality? Writing so often hinges on transformation—are there any that you haven’t considered yet, ready to fruit, and surprise even you?
The Age Star is also a time for reflection and caution. What is the heart of your work, your end goal, your life? Not everything needs to change, if you have the awareness not to let it.
Horse
Years: 1930, 1942, 1954, 1966, 1978, 1990, 2002, 2014
This is a year for acceleration. The Wood Snake is spark and tinder ready to feed your hidden Fire, ready to burst forth next year.
For now, let yourself run wild. Chase your desires. When you want to write, write. When you want to daydream, daydream. You may be surprised how one feeds the other. Avoid self-editing and just see how long and far you can travel when you want to travel, both on the page and in your mind.
This year the Wood Snake is also your Death Star, which in your case means courage. Take ten minutes to answer the question: what about your work most scares you, and why? After doing this exercise, face the work again, acknowledge the fear, and move forwards.
Goat
Years: 1931, 1943, 1955, 1967, 1979, 1991, 2003, 2015
The Wood Snake may deplete your hidden Earth element. When mystery hollows you, and meaning seems elusive, this is a good year to look outwards. What can you move or touch with your bare hands that brings you pleasure? What palpable measures of your work bring you fulfillment?
Reach out to others, be open about your craft and you are more likely to find like-minded souls. Push to get your writing somewhere it will be read, whether that’s in a published medium, a group workshop, or even just the hands of a trusted friend. Who is it you want to speak to, and how can you reach them? There might be more avenues available than you think, if you’re willing to take the leap.
Monkey
Years: 1932, 1944, 1956, 1968, 1980, 1992, 2004, 2016
Curiosity and mystery, the Monkey and Snake are a natural pair. Where the two come together, they create Water energy, the element of the subconscious, of endings, of letting go.
Consider journaling for ten minutes just before you go to bed, or just after you wake up. Follow no prompt at all, except for the first image that pops into your head. Pursue it, no matter how strange. You may write something interesting, but that isn’t the goal. It is enough to converse with the thing inside us that creates, unfiltered. Where water flows once, it flows easier after.
It is also a good year for work – even when it seems to go nowhere. Nothing truly disappears, and our choices settle within us like stones, lending their weight, even long after they’ve fallen from view.
Rooster
Years: 1933, 1945, 1957, 1969, 1981, 1993, 2005, 2017
This year you sparkle like silver, traveling from your Metal-partnership with the Dragon, to the Metal generating Western Triad. It is a year to play with nuance. What happens when a problem has no good solution? How are characters, are we, then forced to change? It’s also a good year to play with voice and humor. Push yourself, laugh, ventriloquize. You might be surprised who you meet.
To fill out your Triad you are seeking the persistence of the Ox. Keep showing up and answers will come. Surround yourself with reliable people, and you will find your own patterns growing more reliable.
Dog
Years: 1934, 1946, 1958, 1970, 1982, 1994, 2006, 2018
As you exit your opposition to the Dragon, many things settle into place, and new challenges arise to replace them. The Red Phoenix Star and Death Star both meet you with the Snake, suggesting a year of passion and unease. Desire is a powerful force under the Red Phoenix. This may be a time to consider how desire drives story, and how it functions in your work. What do your characters really want, and what do they become if their desires are thwarted, or impossible?
We may also look at the year through the lens of our own desires. It is easy to assume all we want is the achievement of our goals. But there are always more goals, and hunger is a hard master. Fulfillment is not a place you arrive, but a relationship with travel. Where do you feel yours?
Pig
Years: 1935, 1947, 1959, 1971, 1983, 1995, 2007, 2019
The Snake and Pig are natural opposites. Where the Pig lives in the moment, in the body, the Snake is of the ineffable. As the Snake loops its coils without a center, this year we may find the familiar grows unfamiliar. We may wonder what makes us who we are beyond a series of external poses, styles, or genres. But opposition years are a time for introspection, a good time to resolve what is unsure within ourselves.
If your writing stalls, take ten minutes to journal with one of the following questions: Why do I write? What do I want my writing to be? What do I need from my writing and why? What keeps me from writing? Write by hand so the process feels casual. Afterwards, let yourself return to the work, and see if the answers settle.
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