Back in 2018, I uploaded my first complete story to Wattpad: A Witch Fit to Be a Queen. I remember the nerves, the excitement, and that tiny flicker of doubt whispering, Who’s going to read this? But I hit “publish” anyway.
It was a paranormal story about a young witch and a ritual she didn’t want to be part of so she defied all odds and lived instead of sacrifice herself to a queen. She carried pieces of me: my culture, my longing to belong, my fear of being too much, and not enough all at once.
I didn’t know it then, but that story was my origin point. The blueprint for everything that would follow—The Ordinary Bruja, The Devil That Haunts Me, and every story still living in my notebooks. That Wattpad witch? She walked so my future brujas could run.
Wattpad Was My First Altar
There’s something deeply vulnerable about sharing your first story online. Wattpad wasn’t glamorous, but it was home to raw, messy creativity. I didn’t have editors, marketing plans, or even a clear idea of what “voice” meant. What I had was intuition and a story I couldn’t silence.
Wattpad was my first altar—a digital one. I learned how to offer pieces of myself in story form and, in return, receive energy from readers who saw themselves in my words. I met people who liked it and left comments on the chapters as I published them. The story got picked up for a few awards and was even put in the official Wattpad Multicultural Paranormal shelf!
Those early comments still live rent-free in my heart. Those achievements were proof that my voice mattered. That representation didn’t have to wait for permission from traditional publishing. That there were readers hungry for stories that didn’t dilute culture or hide behind translation.
What 2018 Taught Me About Courage
Writing A Witch Fit to Be a Queen wasn’t just about world-building—it was about self-building. I was learning that courage doesn’t always look like confidence. Sometimes it looks like writing through exhaustion, or posting a chapter you’re terrified no one will understand.
That story helped me make peace with imperfection. I wrote in the margins of my life—late nights after work, early mornings before the house woke up. I didn’t overthink pacing or structure; I followed instinct. And through that instinct, I discovered something powerful: storytelling was not just what I did; it was who I was.
Looking back, I can see how much I grew because of that leap. It taught me to trust my creative gut and to believe that a story written from the soul will always find its readers, no matter the platform.
The Witch Archetype, Then and Now
The witch I wrote in 2018 wasn’t polished or metaphorical. She was raw. Her power scared her. Her voice wavered. She made mistakes, just like I did. But she was becoming.
And that’s what connects her to The Ordinary Bruja. Both are about women who reclaim what the world told them to bury. Both wrestle with identity, expectation, and the quiet rebellion of choosing self-acceptance over conformity.
When I reread A Witch Fit to Be a Queen now, I smile at all the ways she foreshadowed my current work. The tone, the spiritual threads, the ancestral echoes—they were already there, even if I didn’t have the language for them yet. That early witch was my practice spell for everything I write now.
From Wattpad to Indie Publishing
That story also became the foundation for my decision to become an independent author. On Wattpad, I had creative freedom. I didn’t need permission to mix English with Spanish, to write characters who prayed with both rosaries and herbs, or to explore the tension between faith and folklore.
When I learned how gatekeeping still shapes publishing—how so many writers are told to tone down their culture, change names, or “translate” themselves for broader appeal—I knew indie publishing was where I belonged. My Wattpad experience gave me the confidence to own my voice fully, without compromise.
That early story taught me that visibility starts with self-acceptance. I stopped waiting for validation and started building my own table.
Revisiting the Magic with Gratitude
It’s easy to cringe at early work. The grammar mistakes, the rushed dialogue, the scenes I’d rewrite in a heartbeat. But honestly? I’m proud of her. She was fearless in a way I sometimes forget to be. She didn’t care about algorithms or brand alignment—she just wanted to tell a story that meant something.
When I look at where I am now—building worlds rooted in culture, community, and healing—I see the direct line from that 2018 Wattpad witch to the writer I’ve become. Every typo, every late-night upload, every “I’ll fix it later” chapter built my creative backbone.
So, to 2018 me: thank you.
Thank you for writing even when you felt invisible.
Thank you for honoring your ancestors through fiction before you even realized that’s what you were doing.
And thank you for trusting that one day, all of it—the struggle, the learning, the voice—would lead to something magical.
A Call to Fellow Writers
If you’ve got an old story collecting digital dust, revisit it. Not to critique, but to remember. That version of you deserves credit for trying, for beginning, for believing in your imagination enough to make it real.
Whether you’re writing fanfiction, journaling, or posting chapters on Wattpad—don’t underestimate how sacred that work is. Every story you tell, no matter how small, is a spell for who you’re becoming.
The Ordinary Bruja: Book One of Las Cerradoras Series – Johanny Ortega
Marisol Espinal has spent her life trying to disappear from her family’s whispers of magic, from the shame of not belonging, from the truth she refuses to face. She’s always wanted to be someone else: confident, capable, extraordinary.
But when strange visions, flickering shadows, and warnings written in her mother’s hand begin to stalk her, Marisol is forced to confront her deepest fear: what if she isn’t extraordinary at all? What if she’s painfully ordinary?
Yet Hallowthorn Hill doesn’t call to just anyone. And the more Marisol resists, the stronger its pull becomes. The past she’s buried claws its way back, and something in the mist is watching—waiting for her to remember.
If Marisol cannot face the truth about who she is and where she comes from, the same darkness that destroyed her ancestors will claim her, too.
Somewhere in the shadows, something knows her name.
And it’s time for Marisol to learn why.




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