MaryBeth Calahorrano
Bio
I've been writing for a number of years now. I have a published book through Page Publishing and I am currently working on several books. Looking to expand my brand. As well as make some new writer friends.
Stories (12/0)
What more do I have to do?
First of all, I am not whining about being a writer. I know it'll sound as if I am. In actuality it is years of frustration that has built up over the years. Let me start off by saying, being a writer is one of the hardest occupations to have. You have so many stories in your head that need to be put onto a page. Yet writing them down does not come easy. I published my first book about 7 years ago. I had to self-publish, which has had minimum results. Now mind you, I finished writing my 1st book over 20 years before that. I have spent the majority of that time trying to find a publisher that would publish an unagented author. I tried many avenues. Knowing that finding an agent is even more difficult than finding a publisher. I decided to go the self-publishing route. Even going with self-publishing, I couldn't pay for all I wanted to do with my book. I could not set up book signings with my local book sellers, because every time I tried I either missed the regional manager or they would take my info and of course never hear from the regional manager. I couldn't pay for promotions or book events. I am a blue-collar work by force not because I wanted to be. So naturally, I struggle with money in this economy.
By MaryBeth Calahorrano2 years ago in Journal
The little black pug named Oreo
My family loves pug dogs. The breed has been in our family since my mother got her first pug when she was 17. His name, of course, was Pugsley. After the character on the Addam's Family. Over the years we have had pugs in our house. Starting with Butch when I was 5. Then there was Daisy, Barnabas, Josette, Mulligan, Willamina, and Olivia. My daughter, Amira has been around them since she was a baby, like me. Our first pug, Pugsley lived till he was 15 years old. By the time Pugsley passed we had Butch. The breed has been in our family so much that at one point we had Pugsley, who became my grandmother's dog, Butch, and My Aunt's Pug Augustus a.k.a Gus. Our love for pugs has now passed down to my children. Since she could talk my daughter has wanted a pug. She would say to me, "Sometimes I start absentmindingly stroke the side of the bed. Like there is a pug there." Yes, she said pug and not just a dog there. We lived in an apartment since she was 2 years old. I remember the days of having Butch in an apartment, and I didn't want that for our dog. My mother had a sizeable yard so naturally she had her pugs still. When my daughter turned 10 years old, we got a house. After a while we were able to afford to get a dog. She had been begging me for a pug for years. Now was the perfect time to get one. A few months before Christmas I began to scroll through sites that were selling pugs. I was financially ready for a dog too. A long time ago we bought our first black pug, Barnabas. He was a beautiful pug. My mom bought him with her tax return that year. Just in time for Mother's Day.
By MaryBeth Calahorrano2 years ago in Families
Are you a good witch or a bad witch?
Once upon a time there was a girl who was different from a lot of people she knew. Now we all know that is how the stories usually go. Mine is a bit different. Since an early age, I never really fit into any type of box. Not just my appearance, but the way I thought about things. Religion being one of those things. Now I know what you are going to say, 'Another person trying to convert people'. Yeah, that's not me. I just wanted to share my experience on how I became a Wiccan who practices witchcraft. Before you ask, yes there is a difference. Wicca is a religion. Mostly it is one motto, "Harm none, Do what ye will". Kind of like the Hippocratic Oath that doctors take. Wiccans believe in using the energy of the elements: Fire, Earth, Air, Water and Spirit. The five points of the Pentacle. Yes Pentacle. Pentagrams are upside down and used mostly by Satanist to scare people. I never could understand the ardent faith that some people have with organized religions. I have read all of the Bible, though it has been sometime since I did, and I have researched other religions too. None of those religions ever made me feel faith. That is until I was introduced into Wicca. All my life weird stuff has happened. From seeing or hearing ghost to thinking something was going to happen and it actually happen. I have written before about dreams and experiences I have had. Some of it happened even before I could give it a name. Now I am a practicing Wicca for the past 27 years. At times, I have questioned my faith. I think there is always a time in which your faith comes into question. How much do you believe? How much faith in the powers that be do you have? During one of these times, I found Wicca. I'm a Gen X child. So naturally my generation wanted to explore new ideas. A friend of mine began reading about Wicca and the craft. Partially because we were inspired by the movie The Craft. I know it sounds ridiculous but, hear me out. It was a bit of an eye-opening experience. I started dabbling a bit with my abilities. One of the things I was always good at is my gut feeling about people. I call it my traffic light. People I feel I can trust are green. People to stay away from are red. People who fall in between are yellow. Those are the people you really have to be around more to get a better feeling for. Yes, I am right 9/10 times. There are only a few times when I can say I was wrong. Mostly with the yellow people. A gut feeling is more of your internal alarm system. Hence the reason how I found Wicca. No other religions could explain the way I was feeling, the things I was experiencing. Then a friend of mine told me about reading a book about Wicca. She lent it to me, and I began to explore. Everything I was going through began to click into place. The way I was thinking and what I was thinking all started making sense. Now Witchcraft is another thing that I began to experiment with. Using simple spells along with my will (intent) behind it. I began to notice that I was making things happen. There was never a question or doubt in my mind about either Wicca or Witchcraft. The only doubt that ever plagued me at the time was whether I was doing the right thing. Yes, I did dabble in the darker side of the Craft as well. To experience both sides leaves one with a respect for the Craft that you hadn't before. To really know the highs and lows of the Craft is to test both sides. That is where true faith lies. To know you can help or hinder anything in your life. That changes a person. Your level of respect changes your perception of the Religion and the Craft.
By MaryBeth Calahorrano2 years ago in Journal
I feel like somebody is watching me.
It starts with a tickle. A feeling of flesh crawling. The hairs on your arms stand and the gooseflesh appears. What is this feeling? Why am I feeling this way? Then you see it. A mist forms in a dark, shadowy corner of the room. As you are frozen in place the mist moves. It begins to take form. Now there is a smokey being stand in the corner. The characteristics are that of a female in a white gown. You try to move or say something, but time is halted. The misty woman looks at you, smiles, then turns, and walks into the wall. The cold feeling retreats. All the hairs on your arms and gooseflesh goes away. Your mind begins to race. One question a blaze in your mind, what was that? You might think this is some plot line to a good scary movie, but you could be more wrong.
By MaryBeth Calahorrano2 years ago in Horror
The Haunting of Byberry
Ask anyone who lives in Philadelphia or in the county of Bucks, what is Byberry Hospital? You might just see them give a shiver. Why you ask? The name Byberry is a name that brings forth memories of a time not too long ago. Where a hospital sat that housed the mentally insane. Now we all know mental hospitals are not nice places to visit. This particular hospital could put the other haunted hospitals to shame. Talks of cruelty, abuse, and unlicensed practices happened to patients of this facility. Oh, did I mention Satanic worshipers? Oh yes, there have been many stories over the years told of such things going on at Byberry. Let us start at the beginning.
By MaryBeth Calahorrano2 years ago in Horror
The light in the Cabin
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. As Charlie crept around the cabin, he saw that it was more than a single candle. The room was a fire with many candles burning bright. Yet there was no one inside. Charlie searched the room, straining to see through the filth ridden glass. He could make out at least 12 candles. Arranged in a circle, there were objects littered around and within the circle. "What is going on here?" Charlie observed. He reached up and with his sleeve and began to wipe the grime from the glass. Something odd was going on here. There had been all kinds of stories about the abandoned cabin. Some say it was haunted. Others believe witches use the location for their magic. As far as Charlie knew, he had never seen anyone come in or out of the cabin. Charlie had a bird's eye view of the cabin from his house across the lake. The plot of land had been left years before he was born. His parents said as far as they knew, the cabin never had a resident.
By MaryBeth Calahorrano2 years ago in Horror
Witch Book
My name is Meredith Levine, and I am a witch. A bold statement to proclaim one’s self this day in age, but yes it is true. It is, however, uncertain whether I was born a witch or if I adopted the Wiccan religion. I guess you could say that things progressed in a natural way. I assume that I was always a witch it just took something to bring it out in me. Funny that the something, or should I say someone, was my friend Keith. You could say that Keith’s flame burned brighter than most. Well let’s just face it if you didn’t think Keith was gay you were deaf and blind. He taught me so much about my own capabilities that I could have never discovered on my own. Unfortunately, he couldn’t have prepared me for what lay ahead. During my studies with my new mentor I met a fetching creature named Rebecca. Becca, as she liked to be called, was a very free spirit. Always willing to try anything and did not hold back from speaking her mind. Even when she shouldn’t have. Becca helped me come out of my shell, made me grow a backbone, and helped me realize that my opinion mattered. I always felt a kinship to her because of that. You could say a sisterly bond formed, although I already had a sister. Krista is my big sister. For years when we were younger I would tag along with her and her friends. I always felt more of a burden than a sister in those times. It was our mother’s wish for us to be close since my mother and her sister were not. So where Krista went, I went. As we began to get older I started acquiring my own friends. For a time we had our own separate lives. During this time, Krista went off to college and I met Keith and Becca. Little did Krista and I know that our experiences would lead us onto the same path. After almost 2 years away, Krista had to drop out of college. No money and no job that’s why. She came back disgusted that she couldn’t complete college. I didn’t blame her though. I would have been just as distraught as she was. I began meeting new people during our 2 years apart. Some I had met on my own and most I was introduced to by Keith. Magic is such a touchy art. You never know how things will end up when you do a spell. I never did one to attract people to me, yet somehow people were drawn to me. After high school Keith went off to college and I lost touch with Becca for a time. Although I had some new friends to keep me company.
By MaryBeth Calahorrano2 years ago in Fiction
Death,Devil,and Tower Oh my!
The three cards that no one wants to see when getting a tarot reading done are the Death, Devil, and Tower cards. But why? Their meaning is always misunderstood by people who do not read tarot cards. In actuality, the cards representation is based solely on the person reading them. Some readers read the reverse, and some do not. How are you supposed to know how to read them? Let us start from the beginning. Firstly, it begins with the deck you chose. My rule of thumb is always going with the one that you feel the most pull to. The deck that you can't seem to take your eyes off of, or the one you keep putting down and picking it up again. You are meant to have the deck for a reason. When you finally pick your deck, the next thing is to connect with the deck. Take the deck out of the box and shuffle it. Shuffling helps connect your energy with the power of the deck. I know it sounds strange, but you will read better once you connect with the deck. To start off with a new deck you must learn how to read it. Each deck comes with its own manual. The first one you will learn is the Celtic Cross Tarot Spread.
By MaryBeth Calahorrano2 years ago in FYI
Mom's home cooking
What does summer mean to me? It means family, barbeques, and delicious home cooking from my mom. Now during the holidays, my mom makes some of her most iconic foods. For me, things start in April. My sister and I have our birthdays in the beginning of April. Normally my mom makes us our favorite meal, or she will take us to our favorite restaurant. There is one thing though that she makes me every year for my birthday. That is her famous strawberry shortcake. I always look forward to her making this every year for my birthday. So much so that it has now become a tradition. Her strawberry shortcake isn't the traditional shortcake though. My mom never makes it the way that everyone else thinks this dish should be made. Once you try it though, you will never have it the same way again. The process starts the night before. She cuts the strawberries up and sprinkles sugar on them. Sometimes she uses a bit of Amaretto for the strawberries. After the strawberries are macerated, (softened by soaking in liquid), the cake part is made. Traditionally, shortcake is made for this dessert. Hence, the name of the dish. My mom never liked shortcake with this dish. She would always say that the cake shouldn't be as dense and definitely a lot more flavorful. So instead of shortcake she would use pound cake. I know it is still a dense cake, but the flavor is better for the dessert. She bakes the pound cake in its traditional loaf pan. Usually, she makes two so I can take the leftovers home with me. Now the whipped cream isn't homemade, but it's still one of my favorites. Some people would layer their cakes, not my mom. Her way of serving the dish is to cut a chunk of pound cake off as the base. After which she layers on some strawberries. Some whipped cream applied on the top of the strawberry layer. Next is more strawberries and some of the macerated liquid. Now it's ready to eat. That is the dish that starts the feeling of summer with me. Knowing my mom takes the time to make me this cake every year makes me feel very special. Usually, after the spring starts to end and fold into summer, her next dish is her baked beans. Like her strawberry shortcake, her baked beans a very non-traditional. When my mom starts preparing for Memorial Day, she starts with making her baked beans. Everyone who has every had my mother's baked beans have never wanted them any other way again. Her baked beans come out of the pot thick and sweet. The recipe is a bit of a family secret. Unfortunately, I cannot divulge everything about her beans. I can however tell you that one thing she doesn't use is molasses. The recipe is not one to be tampered with. To omit or use another product in its place looses the consistency of the dish. One time a friend of the family asked to make the beans for the 4th of July holiday. When my father tasted the beans, he was not happy. Firstly, they were burnt. Secondly, not enough bacon. Thirdly, no onions. That is a must in this dish. Trust me when I tell you that you will not get big chunks of onion in the dish. They dissolve into the bean mixture. Lastly, that normal, sweet taste that make my mom's baked beans special was not there. The family friend had used molasses. My father always was my mother's official taste tester. If he says that there is something wrong with it, then there is. The one thing my father wanted every holiday was my mom's baked beans. It is a staple within our family. Something that my grandmother passed down to both her daughters. Any deviation in the recipe, would change the taste of the dish. My mother has many dishes that come from my grandmother who was from northeast Pennsylvania. An area that we all know as Pennsylvania Dutch. Through trial and error, she has made some of these recipes a staple throughout our lives. Summer food isn't always for the summer. It is food that should be a staple at any time of the year.
By MaryBeth Calahorrano2 years ago in Feast
Is it a dream or is it real?
Is real life or is this just fantasy? Dreams are something we all have. How can you tell if it is just a dream or is it something more? You're asking yourself, what are you getting at? As a practicing Wicca, I have analyzed my own dreams for years. Now this isn't just one of those stories about how the things in our dreams are represented. This is my how to guide to tell when your dreams are something more than the normal dream.
By MaryBeth Calahorrano2 years ago in Futurism
Pendragon
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. That's what the people of the Valley called our family. I guess because it is in the name, Pendragon. Although my family lived in England for many a century, sometime during the last couple hundred years the family name changed and moved to the United States. Why you ask? The family started to hate the name. Legends follow you always when you have a last name as known as ours. To be constantly compared to an ancient ancestor tends to leave one with an urgency to disassociate with it. My great grandfather felt as much. So, the name changed. He picked a last name that was a common one, Smith. Not only describing what he did for a living, but also for it being a very generic name. Unfortunately, the famous first name still passed to the eldest male child, Arthur, my name. Yes Arthur Smith. Could I be more generic? Maybe. To break up the total commonality of my name, I became a tattoo artist. A very popular one in the tri-state area. So much so that my colleagues gave me a nickname, The Dragon. Ironic, isn't it? Why the dragon you ask? Because I slay my tattoos with fire and ferocity. Even thousands of years later, I am still being plagued with the family lineage. So it came to pass in my 25th year that a man came to the shop looking for the artist they called the Dragon. My sister, Miriam, was off that day. I had the duplicitous duty of tattooing and running the counter. Miriam's son was at home with the flu. I wasn't about to let her work when my nephew, Lance, was ill. She needed to be there for him. It was around 10pm when the man walked in. A full suit, bowler hat and cane to boot. A regular proper Englishman. Needless to say he stuck out like a sore thumb. I watch as he waited for me to finalize my transaction with my latest customer.
By MaryBeth Calahorrano2 years ago in Fiction
