There I sat, in my dining room, ready to cast my first spell.
My daughter was with her father for the night, as we were recently separated–I had left him six months before, and had filed for divorce despite his desire for us to stay together. The usually warm Texas fall air had finally begun to get crisp, and I drew my legs up into the chair and into my cardigan. I had gathered the few necessary tools required- a hexagonal crystal I had purchased at a local crystal shop, his picture, a candle. And most of all, I knew what I wanted–I wanted for him to let me out of this marriage without a fight.
I wanted magic. I wanted the easy way. I wanted to conjure anything I could and believe that my troubles, and this divorce I was in, could dissipate, and end in my favor.
As I conducted the spell, I moved the carved crystal over his picture, just as instructed in whatever spell I had dug up online and was following. I don’t remember any words or anything about that spell anymore, but I vividly remember one thing about this moment as I ran the crystal over his face–he suddenly smirked in the picture, his gaze locked on mine. His face said to me, very clearly: “You’ll never get what you want from me. I’m going to make this tough for you, as tough as possible, and I’m going to enjoy it.”
It freaked me out. The magic I was expecting and the magic I was getting were epically different right then. I wanted to ignore this insight, this unfortunate magic moment. I wanted to reframe this; I wanted to write it off as a refracted random occurrence. But deep in my soul, I knew. I knew at that moment that nothing I could do in any spell or in any way could change his anger toward me for leaving him.
I got an insight and vision and I tried not to pay attention to it. I finished the spell, but seeing his smirk–I mean, his face actually moved–was what stayed with me. Over the course of the next few years, he made our split very difficult at times. The spell hadn’t worked. Or had it?
In hindsight, I know that when we attempt to control outcomes, it doesn’t work. Making an effort to find peace and joy while remaining detached from the outcome is where it’s at in order to find happiness in this life. This spell was showing me that. I couldn’t control him, and I couldn’t cast a spell to make anything whatsoever actually occur.
What I did end up doing over time, however, was paying attention to signs and flowing with them, and believing that I have control in my own life. We aren’t simply subject to the whims of a spell that may be cast. Which is why I believe in such a practical approach to magic, rather than a fantastical view of it. I wish so much that the fantasy resonated with me, but I know from my own experience that this isn’t the case.
I started writing my novel The Trouble With Becoming A Witch not long after this spell incident, and I’ve been obsessed with magic since. I’ve even written and recorded a double album titled “Magic” (2018) that is an artistic statement on using your own power (or magic) to transform anything in your life. I’ve tattooed magic wands on my arms, I teach my kids about magic, and here I sit writing about it. I’m a believer. But I believe that we have to work to make the magic come. We must demonstrate to the universe, or god, or whoever the hell is listening that we are here for it and doing our part in this great dance of energy and light and alchemy and things that our limited states of being cannot quite comprehend.
Veronica, the protagonist in my novel believes the same. As much as she would like for a miracle, a wish, a random magic to make things better, she knows that she has to put in the time and effort to make it happen. She wants to teach that to her daughter, and show her daughter that with the right beliefs and attitude and sweat, magic is possible.
And as a mother to two daughters, that’s exactly what I strive to mirror in my own life. I want to show them–and every person–what it means to create one’s own magic in the world. That we are not powerless in the face of mysterious forces. We can direct our lives and we can be joyful and we can love and know that we hold our own power. And, yes, our own magic.
Veronica thinks she’s happy. But with fight after fight, night after night, she knows that something isn’t right anymore. Then her husband busts her researching witchcraft–and her picturesque suburban life is turned upside down. As her marriage falls apart, she knows that for her own sake and for the sake of her small daughter, something has to change.
The Trouble With Becoming A Witch is about what happens when a woman decides to stop living the life everyone has told her she is supposed to lead and starts living a life true to her desires. But seizing your own magic isn’t easy–and as Veronica’s marriage spirals downward, she’s forced to look deeply into who she wants to be-come. Is risking the security of life as she knows it worth becoming the witch–and woman–she knows she truly is?
About Amy Edwards
Amy Edwards, 47, is a rock musician, radio personality, author, actress, accountability coach, and podcast host, as well as a mom to two girls. From her home in Austin, Texas, she is the co-author of the children’s book, Starla and the Boogie Deluxe (Archway, 2019). Amy’s platform is about rocking life to the fullest, and she believes strongly in helping others overcome their fears in order to reach their goals.
Amy’s music career has inspired her “Rock Your Life” movement, as she started playing at age 38 and didn’t release her first album until the age of 41. Amy then wrote and released two solo albums in 2014, an EP “Get LIVE” with her band Amy & The Hi-Fis, a single, “Superstar,” the 2017 EP “Little Birds”, and the 2018 epic double album project “Magic, Vols. 1 & 2.”
Amy continues to use her creative voice and hopes to inspire others to do the same.
For more info, visit amyedwards.com.