The Making of Her Name Was a Spell

Some stories arrive at me calmly, almost like a whisper. While others come crashing in.

Her Name Was a Spell was a whisper at first, a story that kept pulling at me until it began to reveal more of itself to me. It started with an image: a woman standing in front of a mirror, hair damp from a recent storm, staring at her own reflection like she was meeting herself for the first time. I didn’t know her name then, but I felt her. And I knew she was tired—tired of being small, tired of feeling erased.

At the time, I wasn’t writing for anyone but myself. I wasn’t trying to be clever or impressive. I was just trying to tell the truth in a way that felt safe. But as I wrote, this story opened me.

What began as a love story about longing and return became something else entirely, an exploration of identity with a science fiction, out-of-this-world twist. The story continues to unravel as a tale about the weight of being named and misnamed, and the spiritual labor of choosing yourself after being forgotten by the world. Au’Maree became more than a character. She became a reflection of every version of myself I’ve outgrown, but still grieve. And Zaylen, well, he’s what it feels like to be seen clearly, even when you’re not sure you deserve it.

There’s magic in this story, but it’s subtle. It lives in memory, language, and the echo of a name said with care. Writing this reminded me that sometimes, healing doesn’t look like a breakthrough. Sometimes it looks like sitting in silence long enough to remember who you were before the world asked you to shrink.

I didn’t write Her Name Was a Spell to entertain (although I hope you love it). I honestly wrote this story so that I could remember. And to offer something intentional for anyone who’s ever felt invisible, forgotten, or like they had to earn softness. I hope, in some small way, it reminds you that you are still worth naming and returning home to.

The story is now live. I hope it finds you when you need it most.