Why I Wrote Unbroken Legacy: The Divine Seed

I didn’t write this book to fit an age group. I wrote it to tell the truth in the only language that could hold it.

That may sound strange in a publishing world that wants everything clearly labeled—middle grade, YA, adult fiction. But some stories don’t live comfortably inside those boxes. They exist in a different space entirely.

This is one of them.

The Language of Childhood Is Not Childish

Unbroken Legacy: The Divine Seed is written in the language of childhood—not because it is naïve, but because that is where many of our deepest stories begin. Childhood is where fear first takes shape. Where imagination first becomes power. Where beliefs are planted that can either nourish us—or haunt us for decades.

To speak honestly about inheritance, trauma, courage, and healing, I had to return to that language. Not to simplify the truth—but to make it accessible to the part of us that learned it first. Some truths are too large to be spoken plainly. They must be approached sideways—through symbols, dreams, and monsters.

Who the Book Is Really For

People often ask me whether this book is for children or adults. My answer is: yes.

It is for adults who still carry the child they once were. For parents who want to break cycles rather than repeat them. For readers who have questioned the stories they were taught about fear, strength, and darkness.

As an English teacher, I can see this book being taught in high school classrooms—not because it avoids difficult material, but because it gives students a language for it. A symbolic framework that allows them to talk about fear, power, inheritance, and belief without being overwhelmed by them.

And as an adult who wrote this book to heal himself, I know it meets grown readers just as deeply—often more so. Because adults don’t outgrow fairy tales. They outgrow being allowed to admit they still need them.

This Story Is Not an Escape

The world you enter in this book is not meant to help you escape reality. It’s meant to lead you back into it. That’s why monsters here are not simply defeated—they are understood. Why fear is not conquered—but integrated. Why the greatest power is not domination, but remembering. This is not a story about slaying the darkness. It’s a story about discovering that the darkness was never the whole truth.

A Story That Grows With the Reader

If a younger reader meets this story first, they may see an adventure: a strange world, abrave girl, a tiny monster. If they return to it later, they may recognize something else entirely: a legacy, a wound, a choice, a voice they once learned to silence. vThat’s the kind of book I wanted to write. Not one that fits neatly on a shelf—but one that grows as the reader does.

Why I Wrote It

I wrote this book to heal myself, to empower my children, and to speak to the inner child still living inside every adult who picks it up. If you’ve ever felt that fear shaped your world more than love, if you’ve ever sensed that something sacred was buried beneath your doubts, if you’ve ever wondered whether imagination might actually be a form of truth—this story is for you.

Read it as you would a fairy tale, mot asking whether it is real, but listening for what it remembers.