Beyond the Blog with Pamela Beach
One theme, many worlds. Exploring resilience, from lived experience to imagined stories.
recent posts
“Hello, I’m Pam. I’m an author, a storyteller, and this is where I explore one big theme: resilience. My writing is born from a life of navigating challenges, from foster care and homelessness to single motherhood. Here, we’re in the business of turning scars into strength.”
Category: writing
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Fifty yards out, directly in the path of the Steam-Walkers, the mudflat rose. It didn’t just bulge. It stood up. A mound of black silt, dripping with eelgrass and old fishing nets, heaved itself out of the channel. It grew taller, piling mud upon mud, defying gravity. It formed a shape. A humanoid shape, fifteen…
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The monsters have moved from the ridges into the grid. In this exclusive teaser from the Echo-Mythos, a 911 dispatcher realizes the calls are coming from dead locations, and the server room is building a new kind of body.
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High on the Ontario Ridge Trail, the fog is gone, but the danger has evolved. In this exclusive teaser from The Static Hills, the Driftwood Kings command the geology itself to create acoustic traps. When a hiker hears a recording of her own future scream trapped in the sandstone, she realizes the cliff isn’t a…
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For the last year, we watched the water. But the forecast has changed. The “Santa Ana of the Sea” is blowing, the air is turning hot, and the monsters are moving inland. It’s time to leave the fog behind and enter the static. Click to see the exclusive cover art and maps for the upcoming…
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“Three… Two… One… Click. The motion sensor light above the garage was a blessing and a curse. It was sensitive, too sensitive. A moth could trigger it, flooding the driveway with harsh, clinical LED whiteness for exactly ten seconds before plunging the world back into pitch black. But tonight, it wasn’t a moth.”
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“Inside the sealed case, the Great Horned Owl was watching him. Its head was turned a full ninety degrees, and condensation was trickling down the pane… but it wasn’t on the outside. It was on the inside.”
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“I thought I was safe. I thought if I kept the stories centered on the Rock and the bay, the horror would stay within the city limits. I was naive. Last night, I took a drive north… and I realized that I haven’t finished the story. Or maybe, the story isn’t finished with me. The…
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“They think I am the nightmare. They think I am the reason the hallway temperature drops twenty degrees at 3:00 AM. They are wrong. I am not the nightmare. I am the shield. For forty years, I have been the only thing standing between this family and the Thing that lives in the crawlspace. But…
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“I’ve always been a sucker for a cliché. ‘It was a dark and stormy night.’ But anyone who lives on the Central Coast knows we don’t get thunderstorms. Not really. So when the sky over Morro Bay lit up tonight with a blinding, cold electric-cyan light, I knew it wasn’t weather. The ground was bone…
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Gus kept his eyes squeezed shut, praying that the heavy, cool weight draped across his ankles was just a piece of wet driftwood. He lay perfectly still on the sand. The shipwreck had left him battered, salt-crusted, and exhausted, but it was the sound that kept him paralyzed. It wasn’t the roar of the ocean.…