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.”
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“Max Carter wasn’t out on the Cayucos pier for the fish; he was there to escape the silence of his empty house. But tonight, the fog is heavy, and the ocean is too quiet. When his rod tips down, he thinks he’s hooked a monster catch. Then, a voice vibrates up the fishing line—a tin-can…
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“I thought I was the creator. I thought I was writing horror stories about the fog in Morro Bay. But tonight, during a storm without rain, a blue flash of lightning revealed a tall, thin shadow standing in my living room. And it wasn’t there to scare me. It was there to edit.”
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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.…
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His hands shot out, pressing against smooth, cool timber. A box. Claustrophobia washed over him, stealing his breath. He thrashed, elbows banging against the confines. A coffin. His heart hammered against his ribs like a caged animal. Then, a presence. His hand brushed something cold and unyielding. Not wood. He recoiled, choking back a cry,…
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I am Malaphis. I am the Shadow in the Corner, the Eater of Bad Dreams, the thing that has made a thousand children wet their beds in terror. I have feasted on the adrenaline of the innocent for three centuries. I have driven nannies to madness and forced families to move across oceans. But I…
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“Tom Callahan took the cemetery job for the silence. But tonight, the ‘wrong’ fog has rolled in, and the silence is broken by a rhythmic, metallic clang. Tom tracks the sound to the old Pioneer section, where he finds a spectral figure beating against an iron cross. He thinks it’s a ghost trying to escape.…
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“I’ve written dozens of stories about the fog, imagining it as a living entity. It was all just a creative exercise. But for the last three nights, something has been wrong. The buoy horn is off. A strange chime is hanging on my porch. And now… there’s a slow, wet tapping at my window. The…
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“For seven hundred years, the gargoyle believed his job was to contain the monster inside him. He thought his rage was a flaw. But when his cathedral is threatened, he learns a powerful truth: the monster isn’t the enemy. It’s the weapon. In this post, I explore how we can stop fighting our own internal…