I spend a lot of time thinking about why Practical Magic has stayed with so many women for nearly thirty years. Mostly because I write cozy paranormal fiction that’s adjacent to that story.
To be clear, what I’m writing is closer to the movie version — with themes of sisterhood, romance, midnight margaritas, witches, beautiful cozy surroundings, and a little untimely death. Alice Hoffman’s four-book series is far darker, and far sharper, than either the movie or I have the talent for.
(Seriously, that series is one of my all time favorites and if you haven’t read it, you should. Start with book one, Magic Lessons.)
That said, the movie is phenomenal in its own way and for its unrelenting uniqueness. For one thing, it’s completely bonkers, careening from tragedy to comedy to witchy good vibes. It’s also gorgeous and reminds those of us who were alive in the ‘90s of a time when we weren’t news-haggard and traumatized. Even the movie’s hue is relaxing.
But here’s what really makes it work: it does not follow the traditional Hero’s Journey storytelling structure.
The classic Hero’s Journey sends the hero outward. Think Jack London, Jack Reacher, Jack Ryan. (Is Jack the ultimate manly name or something? Must ponder this.)
Jack leaves the familiar world, crosses a threshold, faces trials, defeats an enemy, acquires knowledge or power, and eventually returns home transformed by the sheer force of his masculinity. The emphasis is on his individual ordeal, achievement, and transformation.
Maureen Murdock’s Heroine’s Journey is different and specifically women-centered. Author Gail Carriger has written an excellent book on writing The Heroine’s Journey that’s worth checking out even if you’re not a writer.
And, you guessed it, the two journeys diverge greatly.
From The Heroine Journey Project:
“The heroine’s journey often begins with a betrayal or disillusionment – a realization that the idealized world where it is assumed she will pass her adult years is not what she thought it would be… the heroine’s journey is often motivated by a threat to her self, either literally or psychologically.”
Looked at through that framework, the Owens sisters fit beautifully. They’re both being threatened: by Jimmy, by their legacy as witches, by a centuries old curse. The lives they’ve constructed in response to all of those things come crashing down.
I kind of went down a rabbit hole thinking about all this. Then I got a hankering to write an informative, news-like list about how the movie’s story aligns perfectly with The Heroine’s Journey. (I’m an ex-journalist, I love a good bulleted story).
So, here goes (please note that there are spoilers for Practical Magic 1 from this point onward):
The Owens sisters begin by rejecting the world they came from.
Sally wants an ordinary life, the white picket fence, the PTA, and the small town. She distances herself from magic, her family legacy, and the curse, hoping that conventional marriage and motherhood will protect her.
Gillian runs in the opposite direction and goes buck wild. She leaves home and seeks adventure, excitement, and validation through shitty men.
Sally tries to become respectable, invisible, even. Gillian tries to become numb and fuckable. Both fail, because they’ve separated themselves from their essential roots: magic and the Owens women.
Jimmy Angelov is the catalyst for the next phase of the journey.
He’s controlling, violent, and predatory. Gillian tries to convince herself that she’s in love, although she slips him belladonna to make him sleep. When he hits her one too many times, she calls the only person who can help: her sister Sally.
They turn to the very power Sally has tried to suppress: magic.
Jimmy dies.
And then they bury him.
(Practical Magic came out in 1998, and The Chicks song, “Goodbye Earl,” came out a year later. Maybe we should be asking ourselves what was going on back in the late nineties, hmmm?)
Jimmy does not stay buried or dead. He returns like a bad penny, and whatever allure he held in life (he was pretty handsome) has evaporated because he’s a rotting corpse.
The sisters refuse their aunts’ help. The aunts pack up and leave. Sally is running a shop and taking care of her kids. Sally and Gillian are isolated by guilt, fear, secrecy, and trauma.
This is the descent: the moment when what has been denied can no longer remain buried.
Sally finally understands that she can’t solve the problem alone.
The aunts return. Sally accepts her magical inheritance. And most importantly, she calls on other women.
Women who had once judged the Owens family come to the fabulous house and form a circle. The climax is not a lone wolf exceptional heroine defeating evil through individual strength or willpower.
The women save Gillian together. Community and found family prevail over evil.
The ending doesn’t reject men or romantic love.
Gary represents something entirely different from Jimmy. He accepts Sally’s magic rather than requiring her to diminish herself.
But significantly, Gary doesn’t save Sally — she’s already reclaimed herself. The romantic relationship becomes possible only after that integration.
And that may be the part of Practical Magic I love most.
The Hero’s Journey often asks: How will I conquer what waits outside me?
The Heroine’s Journey asks the opposite: How will I come to peace with what’s inside me? What part of myself have I abandoned in order to survive, belong, or be loved? And how do I bring that lost part of me home?
I like to describe one of my mystery series as “Practical Magic x Scooby Doo.” And yes, there are a lot of goofy details in my books (the Christmas mystery last year was about a stolen statue of a sea cow named Santa Manatee.)
But really, my books are about women in midlife bringing themselves home. Home to a place they adore with their whole hearts, home to more fulfilled versions of themselves, home to a group of people who love them unconditionally.
I’ve sometimes plotted the joyful ending of a Crescent Moon Mystery before I plot the murder. I picture the friends together, the food, the laughter, the community, and then I write toward that scene.
But the murder is the plot. The journey belongs to the heroine.
Tara Lush writes Florida-based cozy mysteries about women starting over, finding community, and often stumbling over bodies. Her witchy Crescent Moon Mysteries feature a cat named Freddie Purrcury, beginning with Eat, Pray, Hex. Readers who love the witchy community and second-chance themes of Practical Magic can also visit Hemlock Hollow in A Spell for Second Chances, Tara’s paranormal cozy mystery releasing September 18, 2026.
She is also the author of the romance novel Drive, which has been adapted for Prime Video.