Not to sound corny or anything, but there really is something magical that happens when you’re writing a story.
When I first got the idea for Macario’s Scepter, I had just had my second daughter. My eldest was five, and I was sitting at home on maternity leave watching Black Sails. And I thought: wouldn’t it be cool to have a story featuring pirates where women were the leads? Not just a supporting role or a love interest, but the leads. I went in thinking it was just going to be a fun pirate adventure with fantasy characters worth rooting for
It wasn’t until about three years later that I actually sat down to write it. I went in thinking it was just going to be a fun pirate adventure, something that married my love of Indiana Jones-style quests with the high seas of Pirates of the Caribbean. Nothing more, nothing less.
But life had other plans.
Writing as an Escape
During that writing season, I was going through some real difficulties in my personal life. Writing was truly an escape, a place where I could step outside of life for a little while. I was a new mom of two and a new single mom, which meant navigating a whole lot of things at once. When things got hard, I leaned into the story.
And all the while, I had a front-row seat to my two daughters figuring each other out. The baby learning to walk, then to talk. My oldest is learning how to be a big sister to someone who was absolutely nothing like her. I had no idea how different they would be or how much that would end up mattering.
The Realization That Changed Everything
It wasn’t until a year or two after publishing Macario’s Scepter that I made the connection.
Samara and Seraphina were my daughters.
I didn’t plan it. I didn’t sit down and say, “I’m going to write a character based on my five-year-old.” It just happened, the way the best things in writing usually do. You write from your heart and your muse, and only after you step back do you go, oh. That’s where that came from.
Seraphina is my oldest daughter to a T. Careful. Prayerful. Cautious. Someone who follows the rules and thinks before she acts. She’s still navigating the world, still finding her footing and her confidence, but she does it with so much heart and empathy that it genuinely takes your breath away. That is her superpower. That’s Seraphina’s superpower, too.
Samara is my youngest, my fearless, relentless little climber who, if I let her, would absolutely jump off the ceiling fan. She’s almost ten now, in Taekwondo, never afraid to try something new or speak up for her friends. She’s sure in herself in a way I genuinely admire. She doesn’t have to be the loudest one in the room. She doesn’t have to be what everyone thinks a hero should look like. She just shows up, especially when it’s for her sister.
What They Taught Me About Strength
Watching my daughters grow up together taught me something I tried to work into these characters from the beginning: strength doesn’t always look the same.
It doesn’t always look like being loud. It doesn’t always look like running headfirst into danger. The strongest one can be the quietest one. The one who waits, who watches, who loves deeply. That’s not a weakness. That’s a different kind of power.
My oldest daughter’s strength lies in her love for people. My youngest daughter’s strength is in her persistence. She doesn’t quit, she says what’s on her mind (we’re still working on how she says it sometimes, but I’d never dim that light), and she is absolutely, unapologetically herself.
And that’s what I wanted Samara and Seraphina to be. Not two versions of the same hero. Two completely different people who genuinely need each other to pull this off.
The Squabbles, the Fussing, and the Showing Up Anyway
All sisters have their squabbles. Samara and Seraphina definitely do, and so do my girls.
But here’s the thing about my daughters that I’m most proud of: when it really matters, when they really need to be there for each other, they show up. Even if they’re fussing the entire time. Even if one of them is annoyed at the other. They show up. And I don’t have to worry about them not having each other’s backs when it counts.
That same dynamic is at the heart of this series. It’s not about being perfect sisters. It’s about being there, consistently, imperfectly, and without question.
Still Writing, Still Watching
My oldest has read the books now. She clocked herself in Seraphina immediately, and was not happy about what happened toward the end of Book One. (She’s only recently started speaking to me again. Barely.) But she sees herself in that character, and I think that’s genuinely cool. She can read Seraphina’s hesitation and go, yeah, that’s me. I’m the one who doesn’t want to run into the dangerous thing.
I’m still waiting for my youngest to be old enough to read them and find out what she thinks about Samara.
And the great thing is, I’m still writing the books. Seraphina has her hero moment in The Secret Library. Samara has to learn in The Spell Keeper that heroism isn’t a solo act, that there are people just as powerful as she is, and the real growth is learning how to work with them, not around them.
There’s still so much more story to tell. And I’ve got two pretty incredible real-life muses who keep giving me material.
One of the magical things about writing is that you never know which parts of your life are going to find their way into the work. You’re just writing from your heart. And then one day you look up and realize you’ve been writing about the people you love most the whole time.
That’s the exciting thing about being a writer. You never stop learning. You never stop growing. And you never stop surprising even yourself.
Want to get a sneak peek at Samara and Seraphina in action? Grab The Pirate’s Plunder for free and you’ll get a character excerpt when you join the list.
