Clean slates and reinvention are powerful themes. I mean, who hasn’t dreamed of starting over or remaking themselves. Lose that midlife spare tire, dye your hair magenta, and run off to join the circus.
When we talk about the booming genres of midlife urban fantasy and paranormal women’s fiction, there’s a comfortable pattern readers expect. Often, these books feature a divorced, empty-nester who discovers a completely new, magical lease on life once the kids are gone or no longer have that husband who holds them back. (Not saying all husbands are like that. Mine isn't. He's more of a follow your passion guy.) It’s a classic, empowering trope of a midlife metamorphosis. It’s a chance for the protagonist to shed the heavy domestic responsibilities of her past and step entirely into a new, extraordinary identity.
Put the brakes on. Unless your former life got literally wiped clean off the slate of life, you’re never going to shed those “heavy domestic responsibilities.” If you’ve got kids, you’ll always have kids who will need a shoulder to cry on or ask to borrow $275. If you’re divorced, you’ve got an ex lurking in the background. If you’re a widow, then you’ve got grief.
But when I sat down to write the MAGICA series, I realized I wanted to explore a completely different kind of midlife journey. I didn’t want to write about a woman escaping her family ties to find her magic; I wanted to write about a woman whose magic is inextricably bound to her family, her trauma, and her deep, unshakeable responsibilities as a mother.
Family drama is the engine in my Magica Series. The magic can be wild, and the villains can be feral. But it’s the family mess that makes you keep reading at midnight when you promised yourself you’d go to bed.
For women over 40, family conflict in novels doesn’t read like “plot.” It reads like real life. You’ve been someone’s daughter for decades, and maybe someone’s partner. Maybe someone’s mom. You know what it costs to keep peace, and you also know what it costs when you stop. Maybe you’ve read it, maybe you haven’t—either way, Magica: Book 1 Rise of the Cult feels familiar. Sure, you don’t have an actual rogue witch or evil cult trying to ruin your life, but you might, metaphorically. Despite the problems we have to face, everyone still needs dinner every night, and you still gotta pump because you thought having a baby at 44 was a good idea. I mean, you love her to pieces, but you realize you just don’t have the same energy as when you were 30.
My protagonist, Maggie Towne, is not your typical midlife heroine who stumbles into her powers late in the game. She’s known she was a witch with powers since childhood. Magic isn’t a startling midlife revelation for her; it is the fundamental reality of her existence. However, the scope of her true power was kept from her, not discovering she was the Magica, a title carrying immense weight and destiny, until she turned eighteen. Maggie did uncover the truth despite the cruel machinations of her own mother, who deliberately and maliciously hid the truth from her. Family secrets aren’t usually big reveals; they’re slow leaks. Nobody says a word, and then one spark takes out the kitchen.

Maggie’s mom was not a good mom, and that early betrayal fueled Maggie’s desperate desire to be the best mom possible. Growing up under the shadow of a woman who withheld truth, warmth, and support created a profound maternal wound in Maggie. But rather than letting that trauma harden her, it forged her primary driving force in life, the consuming desire to be the absolute best mother she can be to her own children. Maggie wants to be everything her mother wasn’t: nurturing, honest, protective, and fiercely present.
Yet, life as the Magica has not made that goal easy. It’s the problem all working mothers face. Career and domestic life butting heads, each seeking equal purchase. Balance is a myth. The most we can hope for is a teeter-totter life. And Maggie’s legacy as the Magica is full of danger, and she’s paid a high price for it. Being the chosen-one is risky, not just for herself but for her family as well. That cost came due with the murder of her husband and her youngest son. She’s a mother trying to keep a family functioning after grief that never politely exits the room. This unimaginable loss changes the entire landscape of the series. Maggie isn’t just fighting supernatural battles; she’s carrying a crushing load of grief, worry, and survivor’s guilt.
Grief in a supernatural book isn’t just sadness; it’s a...
Read the rest of the article at https://esmagill.substack.com/p/saving-the-world-while-packing-lunches
