A Cozy Spooky Ritual for a Cozy Spooky Book

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#ancestralMagic #brujaStories #dominicanAmericanStories #hauntedFamilySaga #identityAndCulture #indieAuthorBooks #latineFiction #magicalRealism #newAdultNovels #psychologicalHorror #spanglishFiction #theOrdinaryBruja

What the Wicked Movie and The Ordinary Bruja Have in Common

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When people think of Wicked, they often picture Elphaba—the “wicked witch” who was never truly wicked, just misunderstood. But peel back the layers of glitter and green skin, and you’ll find a story about identity, belonging, and what happens when society punishes women for being powerful. That’s the same heartbeat pulsing through The Ordinary Bruja.

Both stories take the archetype of the “witch” and strip it bare to reveal something deeper: how women—especially those who are different—are often vilified for simply existing outside the norm.

1. The Cost of Being Different

In Wicked, Elphaba’s green skin makes her an instant outcast. People project fear and judgment onto her before she even speaks. In The Ordinary Bruja, Marisol faces her own form of invisibility—she doesn’t look like the witches people expect, and she’s spent her life shrinking herself to fit in. Both characters learn that difference isn’t a flaw; it’s a mirror that exposes other people’s discomfort.

Psychologically, both stories explore what happens when self-doubt becomes a curse more powerful than any spell. Elphaba’s power grows when she finally embraces her true self. Marisol’s story mirrors that revelation—she learns that self-acceptance is the real act of magic.

2. Sisterhood and Complicated Bonds

Elphaba’s connection with Glinda isn’t simple—it’s rivalry, love, frustration, admiration, and growth all tangled together. In The Ordinary Bruja, Marisol’s relationship with Kia carries that same messy humanity. Kia challenges her, loves her fiercely, and sometimes hurts her—but through that tension, both grow stronger.

Both duos show that sisterhood isn’t always soft. Sometimes it’s confrontational, reflective, even painful. But it’s through those relationships that each woman discovers her strength and the courage to stand in it.

3. The Villainization of Power

Elphaba becomes the “Wicked Witch” because she refuses to play by the rules of a hypocritical world. She speaks truth to power—and gets punished for it. Marisol inherits a legacy of women silenced and shamed for their gifts, and she must decide whether to keep hiding or finally confront the darkness that thrives on her fear.

Both stories force audiences to question: Who gets to decide what’s wicked? And why is it always women who pay the price for wanting agency?

4. Magic as Metaphor for Identity

In Wicked, Elphaba’s magic is wild and uncontrollable—tied directly to her emotions and sense of justice. In The Ordinary Bruja, magic works the same way. Marisol’s power responds to her feelings—grief, shame, longing, courage—and often manifests before she understands it.

Magic becomes a mirror for identity: the more they embrace themselves, the stronger—and freer—they become. The act of “closing the door” on doubt in Marisol’s story is the same as Elphaba’s “defying gravity.” Both moments scream the same truth: liberation begins when you stop apologizing for your light.

5. Rewriting the Witch Narrative

Both Wicked and The Ordinary Bruja reclaim the witch as a symbol of resilience rather than evil. They show that “ordinary” women can carry extraordinary power—that trauma, heritage, and womanhood are threads of the same tapestry.

Where Wicked reimagines the fantasy of Oz through empathy and complexity, The Ordinary Bruja grounds that same theme in Dominican-American magical realism, ancestral legacy, and psychological horror. Both remind us that the scariest monsters are rarely the ones with spells—they’re the systems and insecurities that try to silence us.

Why It Resonates Now

In an age where women are still told to tone down, translate, or tidy up their identities to be accepted, stories like these feel revolutionary. They remind us that the “wicked” woman and the “ordinary” bruja aren’t villains—they’re survivors who finally stop asking for permission to exist.

Both invite readers to ask the same question:
What if embracing who you are is the most radical spell you’ll ever cast?

Would you go watch? I certainly will!

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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When Plans Fall Apart Because Your Body Says No

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#AfroLatineCharacters #ancestralMagic #brujaStory #comingOfAge #culturalIdentity #DominicanAmericanStory #HaveACupOfJohanny #identityAndSelfDiscovery #intergenerationalTrauma #latineFiction #magicalRealism #OwnVoices #SupernaturalFiction #TheOrdinaryBruja #womenInHorror

Brujas, Mothers, and the Complicated Women Who Raised Us

Raw, tender, and profoundly honest—this episode peels back the layers of maternal relationships that shape not just our lives, but the stories we tell. 

“I was raised by women who loved me and hurt me, and that’s who I wrote.” With these words, I invite you into the emotional core of “The Ordinary Bruja,” revealing how Josefina and Mama Belén emerged from my own experiences with the complicated women who raised me. These characters aren’t villains or saints, but something far more authentic—wounded healers carrying both damage and devotion.

Josefina’s character holds the weight of maternal regret, including my most painful memory: being told by a professional to stop speaking Spanish to my young son. That moment of misguided protection still aches years later, even as I’ve learned the advice was wrong. Meanwhile, Mama Belén embodies those tough Caribbean matriarchs who rarely say “I love you” but demonstrate it through unwavering presence. These women taught strength and resilience but sometimes at the cost of emotional expression—patterns I unconsciously absorbed and had to consciously unlearn as a mother myself.

The transformative truth at the heart of this episode is that while ancestral trauma is real, so is ancestral healing. Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is recognize the cycle and say “this ends with me.” Whether you’re navigating your own complicated maternal relationships or seeking to parent differently than you were parented, this conversation offers validation, reflection, and a path toward healing. Join me in exploring how protection can become projection, how love manifests in unexpected ways, and how our most painful experiences often become our most powerful stories.

Take a moment this week to write to one woman who shaped you—with love, anger, grief, or whatever truth lives in your heart. Healing starts with honesty, and motherhood’s messy glory deserves nothing less.

#ancestralHealing #DominicanStorytelling #generationalCycles #imperfectMothers #latineFiction #motherDaughterRelationships #motherhoodAndIdentity #TheOrdinaryBruja #toughLove

Christianity and Brujería Coexistence Through Storytelling: The Ordinary Bruja

Welcome to My 5:30 AM Super Secret Writing Sessions…

It’s quiet. The kind of quiet where thoughts rise to the surface unbothered, where truth bubbles up with the steam of morning cafecito. It’s in these sacred hours before the world wakes up that I find myself face to face with the deepest parts of me—and the stories that demand to be told.

One of those stories is The Ordinary Bruja.

This novel has been a long time coming. Not just because it blends magical realism, psychological horror, and Dominican ancestral memory, but because it finally gave me the space to write about something I’ve carried quietly for so long: the complicated relationship between Christianity and Brujería. And how, despite what many have been told, they can coexist.

Kia, Marisol, and the Argument I’ve Always Wanted to Have

For years, I’ve felt this inner tug-of-war. I was raised with Christian values, but my soul has always whispered to the spirits of my ancestors. I’ve pulled cards for clarity. I’ve lit candles for strength. I’ve spoken to energies older than scripture. And still, I find myself saying amen. Still, I find peace in both paths.

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But I never had the words, the room, or the character to show that contradiction—until Kia.

Kia is Marisol’s best friend in The Ordinary Bruja, and she represents what I’ve always hoped to portray: a belief system grounded in Christianity, yet open enough to sit at the same table with Brujería. Through Kia, I was finally able to hold a conversation between two worlds that people often treat like they have to be at war.

She doesn’t practice brujería, but she respects that Marisol does. That’s the coexistence. That’s the magic. Not in forced agreeance or conversion, but in the sacred art of acknowledgement. Of recognizing someone else’s truth without diminishing your own.

Faith Doesn’t Have to Be a Battlefield

So many spiritual practices rooted in Indigenous, African, and diasporic cultures have been demonized by organized religion. We see it all the time—the way Christian spaces turn their back on brujas, curanderas, espiritistas. But what if we shifted the conversation?

What if spirituality, like identity, isn’t a binary?

The Ordinary Bruja is my love letter to that idea. It’s a novel about reclaiming what’s been lost or shamed. About realizing that magic—whether it comes from prayer or spellwork—has always been within you. Marisol doesn’t just wake up to her ancestral power. She wakes up to herself.

And I want you to witness that journey.

Request an ARC. Read it. Share it. Let’s Start the Conversation.

If you’re drawn to stories that:

• Blend #LatineFiction with ancestral memory and magical realism
• Tackle identity, belonging, and intergenerational trauma
• Explore the sacred tension between Christianity and Brujería
• Center strong female friendship and cultural reclamation
• Ask what it really means to come home to yourself

Then The Ordinary Bruja was written with you in mind.

ARC requests are open. Early readers are already calling it one of the Must-Read Books of 2025. And I believe that, with your help, we can create the kind of word-of-mouth momentum that helps stories like this reach the people who need them most.

This is more than a novel. It’s a return to self.

Don’t forget to ask for it. Don’t forget to read it. And please, help me spread the word.

#ARCRequestsOpen #brujeriaAndChristianity #latineFiction #magicalRealism #marisolEspinal #mustReadBooksOf2025 #ownvoicesFiction #reclaimingAncestry #spiritualIdentity #TheOrdinaryBruja