Sometimes the most powerful stories begin with scorch marks. A Witch’s Guide to Burning by Aminder Dhaliwal opens with Singe, a witch burned at the stake by her village for being “unproductive”—her magic and memory seared away. Rescued by a witch doctor and her toad-friend, Singe embarks on a journey in search of what she has lost, face-to-face with demons, guilt, and the longing to remember herself.
Dhaliwal’s world is one where magic is real but fragile, where the demands of others can burn away your spark. The landscape of Chamomile Valley is beautiful and dangerous: drizzling rain can interrupt ceremonial burnings, spells are at war with wounds, and demons named Disgust, Doubt, and Despair are relentless. Yet amid the fantasy, there’s sharp clarity—the book is an allegory for burnout, labor, and how identity can get stripped when we are only valued for what we produce.
Visually, A Witch’s Guide to Burning is arresting. Dhaliwal blends illustration, prose, and comics in a hybrid form. Panels fade or crack like embers, colors are sparing but vivid when used, and typography plays with fire: words blur, glow, fade. The structure often feels like a winding spell rather than a linear tale, with interludes listing potion recipes or potion-making instructions, or explaining how one incantation works. These playful pauses give the heavier moments room to breathe.
