May 2024 Latinx Releases

 

On Sale May 6

 

The Harvest by Diego Rauda | ADULT FICTION

After a nightmare about a disembodied, skinless head calling him from under the bed, Daniel woke with a jolt, but managed to fall asleep again with little effort. He was used to these hellish visions-- while asleep. Now the visions have started to cross over to his waking life, and it's game over. As he tries to bury the feeling that he's being stalked by an unseen force, one of his closest friends takes their own life in front of Daniel, but only after blaming him and " the dragon he carries." While he races to elucidate a mystery that recedes before him, the people closest to Daniel continue to die in perverse circumstances. Against his better judgment, Daniel follows the thread which connects these deaths in order to discover the truth.

 

Bad Seed: Stories by Gabriel Carle | SHORT STORIES

The visceral, wildly imaginative stories in Bad Seed flick through working-class scenes of contemporary Puerto Rico, where friends and lovers melt into and defy their surroundings--night clubs, ruined streets, cramped rooms with cockroaches moving in the walls. A horny high schooler spends his summer break in front of the TV; a queer love triangle unravels on the emblematic theater steps of the University of Puerto Rico; a group of friends get high and watch San Juan burn from atop a clocktower; an HIV positive college student works the night shift at a local bathhouse. At turns playful and heartbreaking, Bad Seed is the long overdue English-language debut of one of Puerto Rico's most exciting up-and-coming writers.

 

American Abductions by Mauro Javier Cardenas | ADULT FICTION

American Abductions opens in a near-future United States whose omnipresence of data-harvesting and algorithms has enabled the mass incarceration and deportation of Latin Americans--regardless of citizenship. After their father is abducted by immigration officials before their eyes and deported to Colombia, Ada and her sister Eva are left to contend with a United States as all-seeing as it is hostile. Now adults, Ada remains in San Francisco while Eva has joined their father in Colombia, tending him in his ailing health. When his condition worsens, Eva asks Ada to come see them: a nearly impossible feat, given the United States' restrictions on Latin Americans' movements. Ada, terribly alone, must come to terms with the violence of American society and the grief of lost community. Exploring the role of technology, mass society, and American expectations on how Latin American deportees should tell their stories, the novel delves into the ties, memories, and lines of code binding communities together.

 

The Mango Chronicle by Ricardo José González-Rothi | MEMOIR

He leaves his birthplace during a nuclear missile crisis. As a refugee in a foreign land he struggles to adjust to a new set of life circumstances. The author recollects his childhood in his Cuban barrio from the eyes of a child, and then decades later, from the vantage of a grown adult. From stealing a rowboat and being nearly capsized by a Russian tanker, to befriending an old fisherman who tells him a haunting tale, to being bullied by a neighborhood thug, to cockfights gone wrong, to witnessing the plight of political prisoners during an invasion, to dealing with the injustices of growing up in a machismo and homophobic culture, he had led a Cuban Huck Finn childhood. Arriving in an at-times unwelcoming culture, he struggles to assimilate while preserving his native soul. Eventually he finds redemption upon circling back to his roots when he returns to the island.

 

The Perfect Place by Matt de la Peña | Illustrated by Paola Escobar | PICTURE BOOK

Lucas goes to the perfect school in the perfect neighborhood. But life at home is not so perfect. His dad's old work truck stalls in front of the school. The electricity is out when he gets home, and he doesn't even have time to show his mom his report (on which he received a perfect score) before she rushes off to her night job.

That night, Lucas dreams of a strange light, which he follows down the fire escape, into the alleyway, clear out of his neighborhood, all the way to the place where the perfect people live. Everything there is more beautiful than he could have imagined. But is it possible things aren't as perfect as they seem?

This lyrical, richly illustrated picture book highlights the beauty to be found in even the humblest of homes and in a family that may not be materially rich but is rich in love.

 

La Guitarrista by Lucky Diaz | Illustrated by Micah Player | Translated by Carmen Tafolla |PICTURE BOOK

Strum! Strum! Strum! Get ready to rock with la guitarrista!

When Canta finds a guitar in the trash, she is one step closer to becoming a rock star. Even though the guitar is broken and she doesn't know how to play, nothing can stop Canta from going after her dreams!

Perfect for fans of Because and We Will Rock Our Classmates, La Guitarrista, The Rock Star will have readers rocking out to this empowering tale of resilience, community, the power of music--and never giving up on your dreams.

Includes an author's note from Lucky Diaz and a link to the Lucky Band's song inspired by the book. Also available in Spanish.

 

Los Monstruos: Rooster and the Dancing Diablo by Diana López | MIDDLE GRADE

The magical town of Tres Leches, home to the figures of Texas-Mexico border lore, has been through a lot. Most recently, the town was released from a curse that kept La Llorona, the wailing woman, haunting the shores of their river. But just when the townsfolk were preparing to return to sunny riverside picnics and barbecues, the children of Tres Leches mysteriously began to go missing. The town suspects another monstruo, the Dancing Devil, is luring kids to El Camarón Dance Hall & Arcade. The Dancing Devil's son, Rooster, who has a foot in both the human and monster worlds, feels compelled to lead the search for the missing children with the help of his friends, Ava (the daughter of La Lechuza) and Felice (the daughter of La Llorona). Their journey takes them to an old gothic mansion with a twisted family history and a pull so powerful that it's nearly impossible to resist.

Picking up where Felice and the Wailing Woman left off, Rooster and the Dancing Diablo brims with magic, adventure, and Mexican folklore, and is perfect for fans of fantasy adventure series like Paola Santiago by Tehlor Kay Mejia and the Jumbies by Tracey Baptiste.

 

América del Norte by Nicolás Medina Mora | ADULT FICTION

Sebastián lived a childhood of privilege in Mexico City. Now in his twenties, he has a degree from Yale, an American girlfriend, and a slot in the University of Iowa's MFA program.

But Sebastián's life is shaken by the Trump administration's restrictions on immigrants, his mother's terminal cancer, the cracks in his relationship, and his father's forced resignation at the hands of Mexico's new president. As he struggles through the Trump and López Obrador years, Sebastián must confront his father's role in the Mexican drug war and navigate his whiteness in Mexican contexts even as he is often perceived as a person of color in the US. As he does so, the novel moves through centuries of Mexican literary history, from the 17th century letters of a peevishly polymathic Spanish colonizer to the contemporary packaging of Mexican writers for a US audience.

Split between the US and Mexico, this stunning debut explores whiteness, power, immigration, and the history of Mexican literature, to wrestle with the contradictory relationship between two countries bound by geography and torn apart by politics.

 

Queerceañera by Alex Crespo | YOUNG ADULT

oaquin Zoido is out and proud of it. And while he knew his dad and sister, Carmen, would be super supportive, he wasn't quite ready for them to surprise him with a queerceañera, a coming out party to celebrate him. Between all the talks of tastings and venues, and the chirping of his family's RSVP texts, the question of who will be his chambelán is on everyone's minds.

What Joaquin is decidedly trying to not think about is whether his mom is going attend or if she's finally replaced him with her favorite godson, Felix--the boy who made Joaquin realize he was gay and who was his first kiss. But when an impromptu lie snowballs into a full-fledged family-group-chat rumor, every Zoido from Texas to Mexico starts believing that Felix is not only Joaquin's chambelán but also his brand-new boyfriend.

To avoid the pity and sympathies of an ill-timed breakup, Joaquin and Felix strike a deal--they'll stay fake boyfriends until the party. Yet, as the day draws nearer and old feelings spark anew, Joaquin will have to decide whether a picture-perfect queerceañera with a fake boyfriend is worth giving up the chance of something real.

 

Death's Country by R.M. Romero | YOUNG ADULT

Andres Santos of São Paulo was all swinging fists and firecracker fury, a foot soldier in the war between his parents, until he drowned in the Tietê River... and made a bargain with Death for a new life. A year later, his parents have relocated the family to Miami, but their promises of a fresh start quickly dissolve in the summer heat.

Instead of fists, Andres now uses music to escape his parents' battles. While wandering Miami Beach, he meets two girls: photographer Renee, a blaze of fire, and dancer Liora, a ray of sunshine. The three become a polyamorous triad, happy, despite how no one understands their relationship. But when a car accident leaves Liora in a coma, Andres and Renee are shattered.

Then Renee proposes a radical solution: She and Andres must go into the underworld to retrieve their girlfriend's spirit and reunite it with her body--before it's too late. Their search takes them to the City of the dead, where painters bleed color, songs grow flowers, and regretful souls will do anything to forget their lives on earth. But finding Liora's spirit is only the first step in returning to the living world. Because when Andres drowned, he left a part of himself in the underworld--a part he's in no hurry to meet again. But it is eager to be reunited with him...

 

Relentless: My Story of the Latino Spirit That Is Transforming America by Luis A. Miranda with Richard Wolffe | ADULT NONFICTION

A veteran of New York and national politics, Luis Miranda embodies the relentless spirit of progress of American immigrants.

There is no one on the Latino, New York, and national political scene with the breadth of experience, passion, and storytelling charm of Luis Miranda. In Relentless, he shares a fascinating narrative of his life and career--from his early days as a radically minded Puerto Rican activist to his decades of political advice and problem-solving.

Miranda recounts the thrill of the ascendency of Hamilton, created by his son Lin-Manuel, and he details the suffering after the devastation of Puerto Rico by Hurricane Maria. Amid the triumphs and challenges, Miranda examines what his experience reveals about our ever-changing politics, demographics, and society.

 

One Year in Uvalde: A Story of Hope and Resilience by John Quiñones and María Elena Salinas | ADULT NONFICTION

Uvalde: 365 was a continuing ABC News series led by the network's Investigative Unit. As part of the initiative, ABC News opened a local satellite news bureau in Uvalde, Texas, in the aftermath of the tragic mass shooting at Robb Elementary School, that hosted a rotating crew of correspondents, producers, writers, and technical staff. Their gripping, vital reporting has been featured across all programs and platforms, from Good Morning America to World News Tonight with David Muir.

Award-winning journalists John Quiñones and María Elena Salinas became immersed in the Uvalde community, as their field reporting brought them ever closer to the people of this Texas city. Quiñones, Salinas, and other ABC reporters and producers on the ground documented the lives of victims' families; covered local community events; followed city council, school board, and Texas Legislature meetings; and attended congressional hearings in Washington, D.C., where victims' families have been advocating for gun reform.

One Year in Uvalde synthesizes this year-long story into a timely, humane, and important look at a community's activism and resiliency, as it follows several families and residents while events continue to unfold in the community. The intimate, sensitive reporting of Quiñones, Salinas, and the ABC News team examines a specific time and place in American life, thereby highlighting challenges that we face as a nation.

 

Hot Boy Summer by Joe Jiménez | YOUNG ADULT

Mac has never really felt like he belonged. Definitely not at home--his dad's politics and toxic masculinity make a real connection impossible. He thought he fit in on the baseball team, but that's only because he was pretending to be someone he wasn't. Finding his first gay friend, Cammy, was momentous; finally, he could be his authentic self around someone else. But as it turned out, not really. Cammy could be cruel, and his "advice" often came off way harsh.

And then, Mac meets Flor, who shows him that you can be both fierce and kind, and Mikey, who is superhot and might maybe think the same about him. Over the course of one hot, life-changing summer, Mac will stand face-to-face with desire, betrayal, and letting go of shame, which will lead to some huge discoveries about the realness of truly belonging.

Told in Mac's infectious, joyful, gay AF voice, Hot Boy Summer serves a tale as important as hope itself: four gay teens doing what they can to connect and have the fiercest summer of their lives. New friendships will be forged, hot boys will be kissed...and girl, the toxic will be detoxed.

 

The Dead Don't Need Reminding: In Search of Fugitives, Mississippi, and Black TV Nerd Shit by Julian Randall | MEMOIR

The Dead Don't Need Reminding is a braided story of Julian Randall's return from the cliff edge of a harrowing depression and his determination to retrace the hustle of a white-passing grandfather to the Mississippi town from which he was driven amid threats of tar and feather.

Alternatively wry, lyrical, and heartfelt, Randall transforms pop culture moments into deeply personal explorations of grief, family, and the American way. He envisions his fight to stay alive through a striking medley of media ranging from Into the Spiderverse and Jordan Peele movies to BoJack Horseman and the music of Odd Future. Pulsing with life, sharp, and wickedly funny, The Dead Don't Need Reminding is Randall's journey to get his ghost story back.

 

Trippy: The Peril and Promise of Medicinal Psychedelics by Ernesto Londoño | ADULT NONFICTION

When he signed up for a psychedelic retreat run by a mysterious Argentine woman deep in Brazil's rainforest in early 2018, Ernesto Londoño, a veteran New York Times journalist, was so depressed he had come close to jumping off his terrace weeks earlier. His nine-day visit to Spirit Vine Ayahuasca Retreat Center included four nighttime ceremonies during which participants imbibed a vomit-inducing plant-based brew that contained DMT, a powerful mind-altering compound.

The ayahuasca trips provided Londoño an instant reprieve from his depression and became the genesis of a personal transformation that anchors this sweeping journalistic exploration of the booming field of medicinal psychedelics. Londoño introduces readers to a dazzling array of psychedelic enthusiasts who are upending our understanding of trauma and healing. They include Indigenous elders who regard psychedelics as portals to the spirit world; religious leaders who use mind-bending substances as sacraments; war veterans suffering from PTSD who credit psychedelics with changing their lives; and clinicians trying to resurrect a promising field of medicine hastily abandoned in the 1970s as the United States declared a War on Drugs.

 

Julián Es Una Sirena by Jessica Love |Translated by Georgina Lázaro | PICTURE BOOK

Traducido por la poeta puertorriqueña, Georgina Lázaro. Un día, tras salir de la piscina, mientras regresa a casa en tren con su abuela, Julián ve a tres mujeres vestidas con unos trajes espectaculares. Sus cabelleras flotan en el aire con brillantes colores, sus vestidos tienen colas de pescado y su regocijo inunda el vagón del tren. Cuando Julián llega a casa, hechizado por la magia que acaba de ver, solo piensa en vestirse como ellas con su propio fabuloso disfraz de sirena: se pone una cortina amarilla color mantequilla como cola y las frondas de una planta de helecho como tocado de la cabeza. ¿Pero qué pensará su abuela del desorden que ha hecho--y más importante aún--qué pensará de la imagen que tiene Julián de sí mismo? Cautivante y genuino, el libro de Jessica Love, galardonado con el premio Stonewall, es una jubilosa y radiante celebración del amor por uno mismo y de la individualidad.

 

On Sale May 14

 

Cast Away by Kate Johnstun | ADULT FICTION

What would you do for your shot at the American Dream? Veronica Chavez and her great nephew Chuy immigrate from Mexico to the US, their journeys seventy years apart, each willing to do whatever it takes to build the life of their dreams. In 1922, Veronica's romantic expectations are crushed by the dangers of living alone in a foreign country. Young and determined, she finds community in Utah's desert railroad towns. Decades later, Chuy comes with his family to Salt Lake City, but his parents are soon sent back to Mexico. Out of place but together, Chuy and Veronica manage to connect across generations--hatching a plan to finally win it big on reality TV.

 

The Dream Catcher by Marcelo Verdad | PICTURE BOOK

Some people dream of perfect waves, fancy castles, or piloting a plane. Others dream of someone to laugh and play with all day long. Some just dream of having a meal for the next day.

And little Miguel? As he and Abuelito work in the hot Oaxacan sun, selling cold coconuts and macrame dream catchers to earn a few coins, Miguel has only one simple wish--to have his parents by his side. But how can he keep the faith when the truth is that dreams don't always come to pass?

Marcelo Verdad's poignant tale of hope and resilience shows how living in the here and now can be a journey every bit as beautiful as a dream. Also available in Spanish.

 

Oye by Melissa Mogollon | FICTION

Structured as a series of one-sided phone calls from our spunky, sarcastic narrator, Luciana, to her older sister, Mari, this wildly inventive debut "jump-starts your heart in the same way it piques your ear" (Xochitl Gonzalez). As the baby of her large Colombian American family, Luciana is usually relegated to the sidelines. But now she finds herself as the only voice of reason in the face of an unexpected crisis: A hurricane is heading straight for Miami, and her eccentric grandmother, Abue, is refusing to evacuate. Abue is so one-of-a-kind she's basically in her own universe, and while she often drives Luciana nuts, they're the only ones who truly understand each other. So when Abue, normally glamorous and full of life, receives a shocking medical diagnosis during the storm, Luciana's world is upended.

When Abue moves into Luciana's bedroom, their complicated bond intensifies. Luciana would rather be skating or sneaking out to meet girls, but Abue's wild demands and unpredictable antics are a welcome distraction for Luciana from her misguided mother, absent sister, and uncertain future. Forced to step into the role of caretaker, translator, and keeper of the devastating family secrets that Abue begins to share, Luciana suddenly finds herself center stage, facing down adulthood--and rising to the occasion.

As Luciana chronicles the events of her disrupted senior year of high school over the phone to Mari, Oye unfolds like the most fascinating and entertaining conversation you've ever eavesdropped on: a rollicking, heartfelt, and utterly unique novel that celebrates the beauty revealed and resilience required when rewriting your own story. Also available in Spanish.

 

Magical/Realism: Essays on Music, Memory, Fantasy, and Borders by Vanessa Angélica Villarreal | NONFICTION

Upon becoming a new mother, Vanessa Angélica Villarreal was called to Mexico to reconnect with her ancestors and recover her grandmother's story, only to return to the sudden loss of her marriage, home, and reality.

In Magical/Realism, Villarreal crosses into the erasure of memory and self, fragmented by migration, borders, and colonial and intimate violence, reconstructing her story with pieces of American pop culture, and the music, video games, and fantasy that have helped her make sense of it all.

The border between the real and imagined is a speculative space where we can remember, or re-world, what has been lost--and each chapter engages in this essential project of world-building. In one essay, Villarreal examines her own gender performativity through Nirvana and Selena; in another, she offers a radical but crucial racial reading of Jon Snow in Game of Thrones; and throughout the collection, she explores how fantasy can help us interpret and heal when grief feels insurmountable. She reflects on the moments of her life that are too painful to remember--her difficult adolescence, her role as the eldest daughter of Mexican immigrants, her divorce--and finds a way to archive her history and map her future(s) with the hope and joy of fantasy and magical thinking.

Magical/Realism is a wise, tender, and essential collection that carves a path toward a new way of remembering and telling our stories--broadening our understanding of what memoir and cultural criticism can be.

 

10 Things I Hate about Prom by Elle Gonzalez Rose | YOUNG ADULT

Ivelisse Santos has had Joaquin Romero's back since their first playdate. Not just next-door neighbors, they're platonic soulmates.
At least, that's what Ive thinks, until Joaquin decides to ask Tessa Hernandez, the same girl who stole Ive's boyfriend, to prom. Sure, the head cheerleader and the star baseball player going to prom together makes more sense than Joaquin and Ivelisse--leader of tech crew--would. But that doesn't mean it should actually happen.
What's worse, Joaquin wants Ivelisse's help planning an elaborate promposal. As much as she wants to say no, she'll take all the quality time with Joaquin she can get before graduation. Even if it means watching her best friend fall for somebody else. Somebody who isn't her.

 

Nothing's Ever the Same by Cyn Vargas | MIDDLE GRADE

Itzel's 13th birthday party starts in just about the unluckiest way possible-with her dad having a heart attack. In those frantic moments, the piñata and the frosted sheetcake and the Styrofoam cups of orange soda are forgotten; the day's highlights end up being CPR, an ambulance ride, and angioplasty. But when her father gets home from the hospital, his problems are far from over--and Itzel's are just getting started.

Nothing's Ever the Same chronicles a young girl's coming of age in Chicago--growing up as her family grows apart. In masterful fashion, Cyn Vargas gives us a touching and memorable and universal story about a marriage on the brink and a teenager looking for love. It's a short book that packs a wallop; it's also a beautiful meditation on dysfunction and forgiveness, and all the times in life to which we can never return.

 

En Estas Tierras Mágicas by Yamile Saied Méndez | MIDDLE GRADE

Ya a los doce años, Minerva Soledad Miranda está decidida a alcanzar sus metas, a pesar de asumir más responsibilidades que los demás niños de las escuela--como cuidar a sus dos hermanas mientras su mamá maneja dos trabajos. Pero una noche, la mamá de Minerva no regresa a casa y Minerva tiene que decider qué hacer. Fue Mama secuestrada por ICE? Serán las niñas enviadas a hogares de acogida o centros de detención para niños inmigrantes?

Minerva y su hermanas no pueden dejar que nadie sepa que mamá ha desparecido. Simplemente fingirán que todo sigue normal hasta que ella regrese. El plan de Minerva se desmorona la primera tarde, cuando su hermanita hace un berrinche durante la audición de Minerva para la obra de Peter Pan.

Pero a medida que pasan los días y Minerva se preocupa cada vez más por su madre, algo mágico parece estar cuidándolos: dejándoles pastelitos, ayudándolos a encontrar dinero, e incluso dirigiéndolos a amigos y familiares lejanos que pueden ayudarlos. Eventualmente, Minerva debe tomar la decision más dificil de su vida. Y cuando lo haga, estará preparada para enfrentar los desafíos de la vida, con amistad, esparanza y un poco de magia de hadas.

 

Good Monster by Diannely Antigua | POETRY

Diannely Antigua's Good Monster grapples with the body as a site of chronic pain and trauma. Poignant and guttural, the collection "voyage[s] the land between crisis and hope," chronicling Antigua's reckoning with shame and her fallout with faith. As poems cage and cradle devastating truths--a stepfather's abusive touch, a mother's "soft harm"--the speaker's anxiety, depression, and boundless need become monstrous shadows. Here, poems dance on bars, speak in tongues, and cry in psych wards. When "God [becomes] a house [she] can't leave," language becomes the only currency left. We see the messiness of survival unfold through sestinas, a series of Sad Girl sonnets, and diary entries--an invented collage form using Antigua's personal journals. At the crux of despair, Antigua locates a resilient desire to find a love that will remain, to feel pleasure in an inhospitable body and, above all, to keep on living.

 

Future by María José Ferrada Ferrada | Illustrated by Mariana Alcántara | Translated by Kit Maude | PICTURE BOOK

Future takes young readers on a fun and clever journey of wonderment, exploring the uncertain yet exciting possibilities of tomorrow. Through whimsical prose and charming illustrations, this silvery book introduces children to enchanting, otherworldly ideas by incorporating a touch of science fiction with robots, rocket ships, and other fantastical concepts that may await them. Highlighting the limitless power of imagination, the authors foster a bright outlook on the future and world we live in. Future captivates as it celebrates creativity, instills hope, and underscores the boundless potential each child possesses as they carve their unique path in this world.

Future marks one more thrilling venture with the award-winning Chilean author, Maria José Ferrada, and the brilliant Mexican illustrator, Mariana Alcántara. Their first collaboration was the compelling book Swimmer, and with Future, they gift us another stunning tale. Maria José's poetic narrative and Mariana's magical illustrations create an extraordinary atmospheric journey brimming with imagination.

 

Body Autonomy: Decolonizing Sex Work and Drug Use Edited by Justice Rivera | ADULT NONFICTION

Body Autonomy: Decolonizing Sex Work and Drug Use is a bold and timely collection that confronts these charged issues at the intersection of social justice and public health. It reveals the histories behind the United State's ideological wars and illustrates their costs to all of us. It is a primer on healing-centered harm reduction, which presents a visionary framework and set of practical strategies to advance unity and care while working to transform conditions for communities that bear the brunt of interpersonal and systemic violence, overdose deaths, and health inequities. In the words of leading advocates, service providers, and the scholars whose lives and communities have been harmed by American neo-colonial policies, Body Autonomy offers promising, healing-centered interventions that represent a critical culture shift.

This collection features trusted voices on health and social policy reform, including Kate D'Adamo, Justice Rivera, Ismail Ali, Paula Kahn, and Sasanka Jinadasa, as well as respected healers like Richael Faithful, Amira Barakat Al-Baladi, and Mona Knotte. The articles, interviews, worksheets, and poems within are an offering to expand our collective understanding of survival, healing, and embodied freedom. Body Autonomy is a must read for anyone with a compassionate worldview, people seeking to know more about underground economies, and those who know that punishment doesn't lead to security. It is a liberatory design and a prayer for what's possible.

 

On Sale May 21

 

The Plant Rescuer by Matthew Rivera | PICTURE BOOK

Manny comes from a long line of gardeners, and to him, the greatest gardener of all is his dad. Dad always knows what plants need. Even with no yard to garden in, he tends their small apartment into a lush jungle.

One day, the time comes for Manny to get his very own first plant! Dad trusts Manny to care for his new amigo, and Manny is determined to rise to the challenge. But watching Dad's masterful work isn't the same as knowing everything he knows, and Manny's amigo keeps wilting, no matter what he tries! Dad would know what to do, but this is Manny's plant, and he wants to be the one to save it.

Luckily, before his new amigo, Manny had another friend: the library! A day of research and a stack of books gets him back on track in no time. Manny's plant grows bigger and bigger, until his room overflows with beautiful, healthy leaves, plentiful enough for Dad to share cuttings with the whole neighborhood. Now Manny can proudly say that he is the youngest in a long line of gardeners. Also available in Spanish.

 

Sobremesa: Easy Mexican Recipes for Every Day by Susana Villasuso | COOKBOOK

75 quick, easy and delicious recipes for Mexican weeknight meals, sharing plates, drinks, and desserts to make and enjoy together.

Sobremesa means "relaxing at the table after a heavy meal," usually after getting together with family and friends. Mexican-born chef and recipe developer Susana Villasuso is on a mission to bring the flavors of Mexico to your table, and share her culture with the world. Inspired by the dishes she learned to cook from her mother and grandmother, this debut cookbook brings together authentic, modern, simple, and tasty recipes for feeding the whole family and for all occasions, made with everyday supermarket ingredients. It's a real taste of Mexico, with a modern twist.

Try some of Susana's family classics, such as: Crispy bean and ricotta taquitos with crema verde, Brown miso and porter carnitas, Salmon Ceviche with yellow beets and lime marinade, Mexican blood orange vanilla cake, and more.

 

Between Words: A Friendship Tale by Saki Tanaka | PICTURE BOOK

Kai is used to following the seasons with Pa, from place to new place where people speak languages unfamiliar to his ears. When they finally settle in a valley full of pools, Kai tries to invite the other children to join in his play, but the strangeness of his words drives them away. Frustrated, he kicks his most treasured stone into one of the pools and in his search for it, finds something even more valuable.

Dive into a whimsical tale of unexpected friendship, told with compassion and warmth. With every brushstroke, Saki Tanaka paints a radiant world where bonds are formed beyond language barriers.

 

American Diva: Extraordinary, Unruly, Fabulous by Deborah Paredez | ADULT NONFICTION

What does it mean to be a "diva"? A shifting, increasingly loaded term, it has been used to both deride and celebrate charismatic and unapologetically fierce performers like Aretha Franklin, Divine, and the women of Labelle. In this brilliant, powerful blend of incisive criticism and electric memoir, Deborah Paredez--scholar, cultural critic, and lifelong diva devotee--unravels our enduring fascination with these icons and explores how divas have challenged American ideas about feminism, performance, and freedom.

American Diva journeys into Tina Turner's scintillating performances, Celia Cruz's command of the male-dominated salsa world, the transcendent revival of Jomama Jones after a period of exile, and the unparalleled excellence of Venus and Serena Williams. Recounting how she and her mother endlessly watched Rita Moreno's powerhouse portrayal of Anita in West Side Story and how she learned much about being bigger than life from her fabulous Tía Lucia, Paredez chronicles the celebrated and skilled performers who not only shaped her life but boldly expressed the aspiration for freedom among brown, Black, and gay communities. Paredez also traces the evolution of the diva through the decades, dismayed at the mid-aughts' commodification and juvenilizing of its meaning but finding its lasting beauty and power.

 

Abuelo, the Sea, and Me by Ismée Williams | Illustrated by Tatiana Gardel | PICTURE BOOK

When this grandchild visits her abuelo, he takes her to the ocean. In summer, they kick off their shoes and let the cool waves tickle their toes. In winter, they stand on the cliff and let the sea spray prick their noses and cheeks. No matter the season, hot or cold, their favorite place to spend time together is the beach.

It's here that Abuelo is able to open up about his youth in Havana, Cuba. As they walk along the sand, he recalls the tastes, sounds, and smells of his childhood. And with his words, Cuba comes alive for his grandchild.

 

Lupita's Hurricane Palomitas by Alexandra Alessandri | Illustrated by Anastasiya Kanavaliuk | PICTURE BOOK

Kindness can be shown during even the harshest of storms.

Shutters rattled. Wind howled. As a ferocious hurricane descends upon her town, Lupita finds two baby birds who have fallen out of their nest and brings them inside to shelter them from the storm. While Lupita and her family wait out the tempest, she focuses on protecting the palomitas to alleviate her own fears and hopes she can soon reunite them with their mother.

Perfect for families living in hurricane-prone states or with children who have storm-related anxieties, Lupita's Hurricane Palomitas offers a gentle, soothing story about extending a hand of kindness to others even while facing fears of our own. The book includes Spanish-language vocabulary words and a glossary in the back.

 

On Sale May 28

 

Emergency Quarters by Carlos Matias | Illustrated by Gracey Zhang | PICTURE BOOK

Ernesto has waited his whoooole life to become a niño grande. A big boy. Now he's finally old enough to walk the six blocks to school without his parents.

Every morning, his mom hands him a shiny new quarter and reminds him they're for emergencies. If Ernesto needs her, she's only a pay phone call away. But each day reveals a tempting new treat to enjoy with his friends: crisp packs of baseball cards, arcade games, hot tamales, and fresh juices! Ernesto has the coins jingling in his pocket, so how will he choose to spend them?

 

Sea of Constellations by Melissa Cristina Márquez | Illustrated by Rocío Arreola Mendoza | PICTURE BOOK

Maren the whale shark loves her life as the biggest, brightest fish in the sea. She spends her days exploring the water around her and finding fresh new snacks as she travels. But one day, the ocean goes dark and Maren's adventures come to a halt. With only the glow from the scales on her back and her best friend, Remy the remora, by her side, Maren sets out on her greatest quest yet--to cross the ocean and ask the Aztec goddess Huixtocihuatl about the darkness and to figure out how to bring back the light. Along the way she meets new friends and exemplifies the power of sharing!

 

The Quince Project by Jessica Parra | YOUNG ADULT

Castillo Torres, Student Body Association event chair and serial planner, could use a fairy godmother. After a disastrous mishap at her sister's quinceañera and her mother's unexpected passing, all of Cas's plans are crumbling. So when a local lifestyle-guru-slash-party-planner opens up applications for the internship of her dreams, Cas sees it as the perfect opportunity to learn every trick in the book so that things never go wrong again.

The only catch is that she needs more party planning experience before she can apply. When she books a quinceañera for a teen Disneyland vlogger, Cas thinks her plan is taking off... until she discovers that the party is just a publicity stunt--and she begins catching feelings for the chambelán.

As her agenda starts to go way off-script Cas finds that real life may be more complicated than a fairy tale. But maybe Happily Ever Afters aren't just for the movies. Can Cas go from planner to participant in her own life? Or will this would-be princess turn into a pumpkin at the end of the ball?

 

Hurdles in the Dark: My Story of Survival, Resilience, and Triumph by Elvira K. Gonzalez | ADULT NONFICTION

Twenty-four hours: that's how long fourteen-year-old Elvira Gonzalez is given to come up with the $40,000 she needs to save her kidnapped mother from a drug cartel. It's 2006 and Elvira's hometown of Laredo, Texas, has become engulfed by the Mexican Drug War. Elvira's life is unraveling around her--setting her on a harrowing path that leads her to being locked up in one of South Texas's worst juvenile detention centers.

After Elvira's released from juvie, she's resolved to never go back. That's when her unexpected salvation arrives in the form of 33-inch-high plastic hurdles. Determined to win a track scholarship out of Laredo, Elvira begins breaking into the school, alone, at 5:30 in the morning to practice hurdling. Soon, she catches the attention of a renowned high school coach, an adult man in his 30s. As they train, their coach-student relationship begins to change, becoming sexual. At just seventeen years old, Elvira experiences the dangers many young athletes face, especially those who are marginalized. In spite of these towering obstacles, Elvira eventually propels herself to become one of the top ranked hurdlers in the USA and the first in her family to go to college.

 

Perla the Mighty Dog by Isabel Allende | Illustrated by Sandy Rodríguez | PICTURE BOOK

Perla is a mighty dog who has two superpowers--making people love her, and roaring like a lion. When she finds out her human brother, Nico Rico, is being bullied at school, she knows she has to step in! But what will Perla do?

In a charming and poignant story about the bond between child and pet, Isabel Allende makes her children's literary debut. Also available in Spanish.

 

Flawless Girls by Anna-Marie McLemore | YOUNG ADULT

The Soler sisters are infamous in polite society--brazen, rebellious, and raised by their fashionable grandmother who couldn't care less about which fork goes where. But their grandmother also knows the standards that two Latina young ladies will be held to, so she secures them two coveted places at the Alarie House, a prominent finishing school that turns out first ladies, princesses, and socialites.

Younger sister Isla is back home within a day. She refuses to become one of the eerily sweet Alarie girls in their prim white dresses. Older sister Renata stays. When she returns months later, she's unfailingly pleasant, unnervingly polite, and, Isla discovers, possibly murderous. And the same night she returns home, she vanishes.

As their grandmother uses every connection she has to find Renata, Isla re-enrolls, intent on finding out what happened to her sister. But the Alarie House is as exacting as it is opulent. It won't give up its secrets easily, and neither will a mysterious, conniving girl who's either controlling the house, or carrying out its deadly orders.

 

Accordion Eulogies: A Memoir of Music, Migration, and Mexico by Noé Álvarez | ADULT NONFICTION

Growing up in Yakima, Washington, Noé Álvarez never knew his grandfather. Stories swirled around this mythologized, larger-than-life figure: That he had abandoned his family, and had possibly done something awful that put a curse on his descendants. About his grandfather, young Noé was sure of only one thing: That he had played the accordion. Now an adult, reckoning with the legacy of silence surrounding his family's migration from Mexico, Álvarez resolves both to take up the instrument and to journey into Mexico to discover the grandfather he never knew.

Álvarez travels across the US with his accordion, meeting makers and players in cities that range from San Antonio to Boston. He uncovers the story of an instrument that's been central to classic American genres, but also played a critical role in indigenous Mexican history. Like the accordion itself, Álvarez feels trapped between his roots in Mexico and the U.S. As he tries to make sense of his place in the world--as a father, a son, a musician--he gets closer to uncovering the mystery of his origins.

 

Summer's Magic by Kaitlin B. Curtice | Illustrated by Eduardo Marticorena | PICTURE BOOK

An Indigenous boy invites new friends to share in beloved traditions as he celebrates the joy of summer and his love for Earth and Creator in this picture book that revels in the warmth, light, and fun of the longest days of the year.

Bo, a proud Potawatomi boy, is excited to enjoy long summer days tending his garden, walking his dog, and playing in the river with his big sister, Dani. When he discovers that his family's favorite spot has been polluted with garbage, Bo realizes that caring for Earth is part of what makes summer special. And when he overcomes his shyness and invites others to join in, he discovers that summer's magic has even more surprises in store.

 

A Last Supper of Queer Apostles: Selected Essays by Pedro Lemebel | Edited and Translated by Gwendolyn Harper | ADULT NONFICTION

"I speak from my difference," wrote Pedro Lemebel, an openly queer writer and artist living through Chile's AIDS epidemic and the collapse of the Pinochet dictatorship. In brilliantly innovative essays--known as crónicas--that combine memoir, reportage, fiction, history, and poetry, he brought visibility and dignity to sexual minorities, the poor, and the powerless. Touching on everything from Che Guevara to Elizabeth Taylor, from the aftermath of authoritarian rule to the daily lives of Chile's locas--a slur for trans women and effeminate gay men that he boldly reclaims--his writing infuses political urgency with playfulness, realism with absurdism, and resistance with camp, and his AIDS crónicas immortalize a generation of Chileans doubly "disappeared" by casting each loca, as she falls sick, in the starring role of her own private tragedy. This volume brings together the best of his work, introducing readers of English to the subversive genius of a literary activist and queer icon whose acrobatic explorations of the Santiago demimonde reverberate around the world.

 

I'm a Fool to Want You: Stories by Camila Villada | Translated by Kit Maude | SHORT STORIES

In the 1990s, a woman makes a living as a rental girlfriend for gay men. In a Harlem den, a travesti gets to know none other than Billie Holiday. A group of rugby players haggle over the price of a night of sex, and in return they get what they deserve. Nuns, grandmothers, children, and dogs are never what they seem...

These 9 stories are inhabited by extravagant and profoundly human characters who face an ominous reality in ways as strange as themselves. I'm a Fool to Want You confirms that Camila Sosa Villada is one of the most powerful and original voices in contemporary literature. With her daring imagination, she can speak the language of a victim of the Mexican Inquisition, or create a dystopian universe where travestis take their revenge. With her unique style, Sosa Villada blends everyday life and magic, honoring the oral tradition with unparalleled fluency.

 

On Sale May 31

 

A Bridge Home by Mona Alvarado Frazier | YOUNG ADULT

Jacqueline Bravo can't understand why she's being called to the principal's office and is shocked to learn her mother hasn't paid her tuition at St. Bernadette High School in three months! Now Sister Mary Grace is threatening to kick her out and even recommends a vocational school until she gets married. Finances have been tight ever since Jacqui's father was killed in Vietnam. She is determined to win the alumni scholarship to UCLA, and there's no way she will transfer to a public or vocational school in her senior year--never mind get married! But she doesn't want her younger siblings to have to leave St. Patrick's either; her sister is already hanging out with unsavory boys and Jacqui knows it would only get worse at the local school. So, she starts looking for a way to earn money and help make ends meet. Without telling her mom, Jacqui gets a job at a local restaurant.

 

Vincent Ventura and the Curse of the Donkey Lady / Vincent Ventura Y La Maldición de la Mujer Burro by Xavier Garza | MIDDLE GRADE

Vincent and his dad are on a bus in Mexico, headed to his late mom's village of Nagual, when he hears a loud animal roar! Oddly, no one else seems to have heard it. Looking out the window, he is surprised to see a girl running alongside the bus; he's even more amazed when she turns into a jaguar! And then he sees a sinister sight: a woman with a cadaverous-looking donkey's head whose glowing red eyes burn as if on fire! Even in a different country, there's another monster mystery to solve.

 

10 Books to Read for Poetry Month

We could not end Poetry Month without offering some recommended titles to read. On this list, we have included titles for children and adults, with a mix of both older and newer titles. We hope you enjoy the power of poetry and leave you with one question: How can you incorporate more poetry in your day-to-day life?

 

Plantains and Our Becoming by Melania Luisa marte

Poet and musician Melania Luisa Marte opens PLAINTAINS AND OUR BECOMING by pointing out that Afro-Latina is not a word recognized by the dictionary. But the dictionary is far from a record of the truth. What does it mean, then, to tend to your own words and your own record--to build upon the legacies of your ancestors?

In this imaginative, blistering poetry collection, Marte looks at the identities and histories of the Dominican Republic and Haiti to celebrate and center the Black diasporic experience. Through the exploration of themes like self-love, nationalism, displacement, generational trauma, and ancestral knowledge, this collection uproots stereotypes while creating a new joyous vision for Black identity and personhood.

 

The Breakbeat Poets Vol. 4: Latinext Edited by Felicia Chavez, José Olivarez, and Willie Perdomo

A BreakBeat Poets anthology that opposes silence and re-mixes the soundtrack of the Latinx diaspora across diverse poetic traditions.

 

Unaccompanied by Javier Zamora

This gorgeous debut speaks with heart-wrenching intimacy and first-hand experience to the hot-button political issues of immigration and border crossings.

 

A Song of Frutas by Margarita engle and illustrated by sara palacios

When we visit mi abuelo, I help him sell
frutas, singing the names of each fruit
as we walk, our footsteps like drumbeats,
our hands like maracas, shaking...

The little girl loves visiting her grandfather in Cuba and singing his special songs to sell all kinds of fruit: mango, limón, naranja, piña, and more! Even when they're apart, grandfather and granddaughter can share rhymes between their countries like un abrazo--a hug--made of words carried on letters that soar across the distance like songbirds. Also available in Spanish.

 

From the Bellybutton of the Moon and Other Summer Poems: del Ombligo de la Luna Y Otros Poemas de Verano by Francisco X. Alarcón illustrated by Maya Gonzalez

With a poet's magical vision, Alarcón takes us back to his childhood when he traveled with his family to Mexico to visit his grandma and other relatives. We travel with him in the family station wagon, across the misty mountain range to the little town of Atoyac. There, in the beloved town of his ancestors, we hear his grandma's stories, sample Auntie Reginalda's tasty breakfasts, learn about the keys to the universe, and take playful dips in the warm sea.

The lighthearted illustrations of Maya Christina Gonzalez perfectly capture the spirit of summer in Alarcón's Mexico where "colors are more colorful, tastes are tastier, and even time seems to slow down."

 

black god mother this body by Raina J. León

black god mother this body explores the divine, the ancestrally aligned, the natural rhythmed black woman in her embodied reality, particularly as mother. glorification of whiteness is death. this is a healing meditation, an extended song, an experimentation in augmenting reality that constantly threatens black mothers and children. it is also a covert communication in the hidden ways of trees. did you know that some can determine how to share resources through their roots and even support a cluster community in the dying of one tree so that others might be able to grow? león invites defiant and collective flourishing. this book integrates biomimicry, technology, afrofuturist practices and afrosurrealist revelations, and generational engagement even across human and nonhuman worlds. it boldly encounters the horrors of (digital) lynchings in the murders of black and brown peoples in spirit and in body while also uplifting new radical dreams. what we know to be true started as a dream; what is a nightmare can be countered boldly in communal power. here we find visual poems, halos in augmented reality, sonnets alongside couplet sequences, reinventions in form and the subversion of the "i" in favor of the "we". we find audacity against fear.

 

When we make it by Elizabet Velasquez

An unforgettable, torrential, and hopeful debut young adult novel-in-verse that redefines what it means to "make it," for readers of Nicholasa Mohr and Elizabeth Acevedo.

Sarai is a first-generation Puerto Rican question asker who can see with clarity the truth, pain, and beauty of the world both inside and outside her Bushwick apartment. Together with her older sister, Estrella, she navigates the strain of family traumas and the systemic pressures of toxic masculinity and housing insecurity in a rapidly gentrifying Brooklyn. Sarai questions the society around her, her Boricua identity, and the life she lives with determination and an open heart, learning to celebrate herself in a way that she has long been denied.

 

My AfroRican State of Soul: A Journey of Identidad, Struggle, Love & Faith by lucas rivera

My AfroRican State of Soul is a blend of narrative nonfiction and poetry that chronicles Lucas Rivera's journey through life. This debut collection of poetry speaks to both budding young creatives and OG hip-hop heads who remember the dawn of an artistic era. As a BIPOC man, Rivera has struggled against traditional conceptions of masculinity toward a path of love, acceptance, vulnerability, and shared healing. His work speaks to everyone who has struggled with imposter syndrome, displacement and disempowerment.

As a child, he could speak to his father but would never actually know him. He grew into a man who learned to salvage healing from that loss, building an artistic vision for identidad, struggle, love, and faith that has spread across the United States. Art is a means of survival for him, from turntables to Latin dance to painting to stained glass to writing. These mediums opened his world, and allowed him to experience true love, accept faith and reconciliation, and eventually grace his own father with Aché (blessings) despite the pain of his absence.

 

Nostalgia Doesn't Flow Away Like Riverwater by Irma Pineda and illustrated by wendy call

A story of separation and displacement in two fictionalized voices: a person who has migrated, without papers, to the United States for work, and their partner who waits at home.

Nostalgia Doesn't Flow Away Like Riverwater / Xilase qui rié di' sicasi rié nisa guiigu' / La Nostalgia no se marcha como el agua de los ríos is a trilingual collection by one of the most prominent Indigenous poets in Latin America: Irma Pineda. The book consists of 36 persona poems that tell a story of separation and displacement in two fictionalized voices: a person who has migrated, without papers, to the United States for work, and that person's partner who waits at home, in the poet's hometown of Juchitán, Oaxaca.

According to Periódico de Poesía, a journal based at UNAM (Mexico's national university), when it was published in 2007, this book established Pineda "one of the strongest poets working in Zapotec, the [Mexican] Native language with the largest literary production."

 

Catrachos: Poems by Roy G. Guzmán

A name for the people of Honduras, Catrachos is a term of solidarity and resilience. In these unflinching, riveting poems, Roy G. Guzmán reaches across borders--between life and death and between countries--invoking the voices of the lost. Part immigration narrative, part elegy, and part queer coming-of-age story, Catrachos finds its own religion in fantastic figures such as the X-Men, pop singers, and the "Queerodactyl," which is imagined in a series of poems as a dinosaur sashaying in the shadow of an oncoming comet, insistent on surviving extinction. With exceptional energy, humor, and inventiveness, Guzmán's debut is a devastating display of lyrical and moral complexity--an introduction to an immediately captivating, urgently needed voice.


Ruddy Lopez is an educator, writer, and editor who was raised in Inglewood, California. She attended California State Long Beach, where she obtained a BA in English Literature and English Education. In her spare time, Ruddy enjoys reading, drinking coffee, and exploring what her city has to offer.

Author Interview: We Are Owed. By Ariana Brown

 

Writers Mentorship Program mentee Ayling Zulema Dominguez sat down with mentor Ariana Brown to discuss her poetry collection, We Are Owed. Continue reading for this insightful conversation and do not forget to grab your copy before the end of 2025!

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Ayling Zulema Dominguez (AZD): We Are Owed. is your debut poetry collection, and it is such a thorough work of confronting anti-Blackness in nationalist identities, as well as writing about Black kin in very venerative and beloved ways. How did you arrive at the core questions and investigations of We Are Owed.?

Ariana Brown (AB): I was kind of the resident Black History expert in Mexican-American Studies classes. Professors would refer to me for dates and times of certain events. And it was wild to me because I thought, “This department is in the same building as Black Studies; do y’all not talk to each other?” A lot of the questions in We Are Owed. come from that place of frustration. Of being someone who is able to recognize patterns, is unafraid to name them, and goes on to ask people, “Now that we know they exist, what are you going to do about that?” Because as someone who is racialized as Black in every space I enter, at least in this country, I don’t question who I am as a person, the world tells me—that’s what interpolation is, that’s what anti-Blackness is. So, I don’t have these questions of, “Who do I belong to?” Who I belong to is very clear to me. My question is, “How do we achieve liberation?” And I think that requires a certain precision and specificity that, if you are indoctrinated into the concepts of mestizaje and ‘we all have this indigenous past,’ I think can get really lost because you start to play around with the meanings of things, and I think that can get really dangerous. So in the collection, I really do insist on specificity. The meanings of things matter to me. Clarity matters to me.

(AZD): Was there any point in writing the book where there were obstacles to clarity, and if so, how did you approach that?

(AB): One of the experiences that I write about in We Are Owed. was a study abroad trip I did during college to Mexico City. I was the only Black person on the trip, everyone else in the group were mostly bilingual Mexican-Americans who had grown up in the border-towns along the Texas-Mexico border. Being in Mexico City really helped me figure out some of the specificity in We Are Owed., because I do think that if you are a child of immigrants or you exist in the diaspora somewhere and are not living in your ancestral homeland, there can be a tendency to essentialize and romanticize what the experience is of being someone in your homeland is, or what your identity is as a whole. Being in a space where most of my classmates were actually from South Texas, versus me being from San Antonio, I always thought San Antonio was South Texas until I heard my classmates from the valley say San Antonio is Central Texas, and I thought to myself, “Oh, they’re right. I don’t have a right to claim South Texas because living in a border-town is very different from living in a large metropolitan city in San Antonio.” It was important for me to be willing to acknowledge the differences in our experience, because in those moments, it wasn’t useful for me to say, “but we’re all Mexican.” For instance, their parents worked on the Mexico side of the border; they got paid in pesos. I had to be able to recognize, “Yes, I’m the only Black person on this trip, but I have class privilege at this moment because my mom gets paid in U.S. dollars, not in pesos.” Even being in Mexico City and just watching how all of us were racialized differently—most of my classmates would definitely be racialized as “Other” in the U.S., but in Mexico, they were called “gringas,” and they were very confused by this. To them, they were brown, and being called “gringa” felt like a rejection of who they were. But for the locals, they were just acknowledging that my classmates were not from there, and were American. So, there were all of these areas that people might think of as “gray areas,” but to me it felt very helpful to be able to see that clarity, because then I could make sense of things. A lot of the research for We Are Owed. was figuring out, “What are the stories we tell ourselves about who we are? Where did they come from, and what purpose do they serve?” And then trying to figure out what I want my relationship to these stories to be; do I find them helpful? Do I find them hurtful? What do I need to correct? What do I want to be clear about?

(AZD): In your poem, “At the End of the Borderlands,” you write, “would you fight for those you don’t love, to whom you are indebted?” There is such a palpable praxis of care woven into the book, and I was wondering if you could expand a bit on what it means to be indebted to whom we may not love?

(AB): There’s a book that I read while I was writing We Are Owed. called Research is Ceremony: Indigenous Research Methods by Shawn Wilson, and in the book he coins the term “relational accountability.” The term is part of ethnographic research and elaborates the idea of ‘nothing about us without us.’ This idea that we don’t exist apart from each other. One of the examples I can think of right now is the genocide happening in Palestine. Right now, it’s the week of the strike that Bisan called for, so I am striking. I don’t personally know people in Palestine, but I am indebted to them. I don’t have to love you to fight alongside you. I think that’s a really key part that a lot of folks are missing. Especially when we come into this idea of social justice through what we see on social media, where everyone feels like you have to be this big happy family, and we have to honor our differences; that is important, yes, but it’s also not necessary. This is something that we learn from disability justice, that people do not have to be loved or likable in order to be worthy of living livable lives. That clarity, that specificity of “I don’t need you to like me, and I don’t need to like you, but I can recognize regardless of what my relationship is to you, you have a right to exist, to not be displaced from your homeland. Especially if the country I live in is actively funding your displacement and your genocide, I have a responsibility to do something, to not just feel something about it, but to do something about it.” Otherwise, what am I writing any of this stuff for, you know?

(AZD): We Are Owed. challenges the notion of identities being tied to nation-states, and the imperial languages that helped form these nation-states, in fact calling for adversarial relationships with nation-states. In your poem “Negrita,” you write, “I fear you offer your heart to this language ... To survive here, mija, I work on the words, making a list of everything we are owed.” What do you think a language that is worthy of offering one’s heart to looks like, if there ever is one?

(AB): The quote that almost opened We Are Owed. was by the Nigerian Writer, Chinua Achebe, which is, "Let no one be fooled by the fact that we may write in English, for we intend to do unheard of things with it." It didn’t quite fit, but I just love that quote and think about it all the time. I do think that in a lot of non-Black communities, there’s this feeling of needing to learn one’s heritage language, or else being completely lost to it and to one’s culture. And there's a reality to that. But I also think, as an African-American person who has been displaced from whatever my heritage language is for many generations, I think that African-Americans and Black folks in diaspora show us constantly, time and time again, how we have made language our own, how we have made culture our own. When I was a little kid, I used to spend summers with my great grandmother in Galveston, TX, and we would go to church together. Being around Black Baptist preachers, that mode of communication and fellowship is so specific—how one relates to another person in that space, how you participate in that space, how language is used. There are so many different ways to communicate that are beyond the word itself. And when I think about language that is liberatory, it’s not necessarily something a matter of, “I need to find something that is completely removed from a colonial history,” but rather, why can’t that language be tenderness? Why can’t that language be me reaching out to you and us holding each other in this knowing that we are in the muck of it, but we’re gonna hold on to each other no matter what? For me, it’s less about the specific words that one uses. I think we waste a lot of time lamenting or trying to get back what was lost. I think that energy could be better directed towards a real politic of mutuality. I think that is where our future really really lies. I think that’s where all the potential is, in our relationships with one another. That to me is decolonial. That to me is anticolonial. Sometimes it doesn’t quite matter the words you use, sometimes the actions are the most important thing.

A lot of the research for We Are Owed. was figuring out, “What are the stories we tell ourselves about who we are? Where did they come from, and what purpose do they serve?” And then trying to figure out what I want my relationship to these stories to be; do I find them helpful? Do I find them hurtful? What do I need to correct? What do I want to be clear about?

(AZD): As an educator myself, something I’ve always appreciated about your writing is the way you’ll craft lesson plans to accompany your poems. How did you go about crafting the bibliography in We Are Owed., as well as the Teacher’s Guide that goes with the book?

(AB): I love that you ask that because it’s really important to me. I was talking with a friend of mine the other day who is also a poet, and we had this critique of the mainstream literary world, which is that a lot of people in the U.S., poets and non-poets alike, seem to have this idea that the poet is the person who is supposed to critique things. In poetry spaces, however, we have not cultivated a practice of deep study, so what ends up happening is that any poet now seems to feel very comfortable making critiques of things without having done any of the research that goes along with it. As someone who grew up in spoken word poetry spaces, I’ve seen the ramifications of that in the audience. I do think that using words is spiritual. I do think that writing is a spiritual act. I do think that standing on a stage and performing them in a rhythmic manner much like you would a ritual or a spell, it has consequences, and so it is alarming to me when folks are not interested in doing the research, but are interested in being known as people who make cultural critiques. I think it’s really, really important for us to recognize the responsibility that we have as people who work with words. You can do a lot of damage with words. You can confuse people, easily. If you say it in a convincing-enough way, you can convince people of just about anything. So, I’m very cautious and the research part matters a lot to me, because I don’t want people to just take me at face value; I want you to be able to trace my steps. That’s why there’s a selected bibliography at the end of We Are Owed., because if you have questions, I want to encourage you to seek the answers out yourself, and to be able to do so with the resources I reference. That’s my librarian and neurodivergent teacher background. A lot of poetry books don’t come with a Selected Reading list, and so it was exciting for me to think of this as both a poetry book and a classroom text. That’s why there’s the foreword by Dr. Pelaez Lopez, that’s why there’s the Selected Reading list at the end, and that’s also why I built the Teacher’s Guide, where I worked with a college professor, Joshua Deckman, who has taught We Are Owed. in his classes before. He had me do a classroom visit, and had such fantastic lesson plans developed for the book, that I thought, “What if we extended these?” We came up with poetry prompts, keywords, themes, and discussion questions; I wanted people to be well-resourced when they came to this book because I also recognize that the way that I’m talking about Blackness and Mexicanidad is very different from how most people have encountered those subjects. So, I expect there to be some confusion, but as a teacher, I also know that the confusion and disorientation is a key part of learning—that means that you’re learning something. I wanted people to be well-resourced as they move through that disorientation.

(AZD): How does this book fit into your writing journey? How do you think it will inform any future projects that you’re taking on?

(AB): I love this question. It took me six years to do all the reading, research, and writing that this book became. This feels like my Magnum Opus. This book is really important to me and I’m really proud of it. I get really emotional when I think about it. But,, I think that this book was my attempt at navigating a lot of the confusion and questions that I had around some of my very formative experiences as a person. And through writing this, I was able to find clarity, I was able to find a sense of community. In terms of where to go from here, one thing I couldn’t figure out when writing We Are Owed. was how to write about some of the complexities of family. My family is sort of present in the book, but not really. What I’m trying to figure out now is how to write ethically about the violence and abuse in my family. Because some of those stories are not mine to tell, but they have affected me and changed me. I do think that one of the deepest cruelties of witnessing abuse is that it is very uncomfortable for other people to hear you speak about it, so there is a silencing, whether it’s voluntary or not. It’s not “dinner table” conversation, and if you do bring it up, you’re only supposed to talk about it once, as though it’s not a thing that will affect you for your entire life. I have a lot of things that I’m curious about and trying to work out in my mind around this subject, that are of course all related to white supremacy and colonialism and patriarchy. I see the patterns very clearly in my mind, and I want to be able to name the thing, but I can’t be as courageous in naming the thing that I did here in We Are Owed., because some of those stories are not mine to tell. So what I’m trying to figure out now is a bit more of a turning inward. Being able to write in a way that feels clear for me and transparent in a way, while still respecting the anonymity that my family members deserve. I’m branching out into fiction, I’m working on a Young Adult novel. I’ve started writing poems again. I couldn’t write poems for a long time after We Are Owed., but I’m figuring it out again. And I’m going back to spoken word. I want to be able to write the way I speak.




We Are Owed. is going out of print at the end of 2025. If you’re reading this interview and want to re-publish the book, reach out to Ariana Brown. Buy a copy, gift it to someone. Request it at your local library so others will continue to have access.


Ariana Brown is a queer Black Mexican American poet based in Houston, TX. She is the author of We Are Owed. (Grieveland, 2021) and Sana Sana (Game Over Books, 2020). Ariana’s work investigates queer Black personhood in Mexican American spaces, Black relationality and girlhood, loneliness, and care. She holds a B.A. in African Diaspora Studies and Mexican American Studies, an M.F.A. in Poetry, and an M.S. in Library Science. Ariana is a 2014 national collegiate poetry slam champion and owes much of her practice to Black performance communities led by Black women poets from the South. She has been writing, performing, and teaching poetry for over ten years. Follow Ariana online @ArianaThePoet.

 

Ayling Zulema Dominguez is a poet, mixed media artist, and youth arts educator with roots in Puebla, México (Nahua) and República Dominicana. Grounded in an anticolonial poetics, Ayling's writing asks who we are at our most free, exploring the subversions and imaginings needed in order to arrive there. Ancestral veneration, Indigenous Futurisms, and communing with the archive are major themes in Ayling’s writing. What can language do for our resistance efforts? How can we use it to birth new worlds and weave our ancestors into the fabric of them? Their writing has recently been supported by Tin House, We Need Diverse Books, and the Virginia G. Piper Center for Creative Writing. Ayling is a 2024-25 Artistic Development and Teaching Assistant with The Center for Imagination in the Borderlands, and was previously a 2023-24 UC Berkeley’s Arts Research Center Poetry & The Senses Fellow, 2023 Desert Nights, Rising Stars Conference MFA Presenter, 2023 Prufer Poetry Prize Finalist, and received Honorable Mention for the 2022 Lorca Latinx Poetry Prize. Select poems of theirs have been published in The Poetry Project, The Seventh Wave, The Texas Review, The Acentos Review, and elsewhere. Ayling continues to nurture creative expression among community by hosting free monthly writing workshops online, installing interactive public artworks, and hyping up fellow poets and artists at local open mic joints. Ultimately, they believe in poetry as a tool for liberation. 

Most Anticipated April 2024 Releases

Spring is officially here and what better way to enjoy the weather than reading a book outside? Check out some of April’s most anticipated titles and head to your local bookstore or library to add them to your TBR!

 

The Black Girl Survives in This One |Edited by Desiree S. Evans and Saraciea J. Fennell | On Sale April

Celebrating a new generation of bestselling and acclaimed Black writers, The Black Girl Survives in This One makes space for Black girls in horror. Fifteen chilling and thought-provoking stories place Black girls front and center as heroes and survivors who slay monsters, battle spirits, and face down death. Prepare to be terrified and left breathless by the pieces in this anthology.

The bestselling and acclaimed authors include Erin E. Adams, Monica Brashears, Charlotte Nicole Davis, Desiree S. Evans, Saraciea J. Fennell, Zakiya Dalila Harris, Daka Hermon, Justina Ireland, L.L. McKinney, Brittney Morris, Maika & Maritza Moulite, Eden Royce, and Vincent Tirado. The foreword is by Tananarive Due.

 

The Cemetery of Untold Stories by Julia Alvarez |On Sale April 2

Alma Cruz, the celebrated writer at the heart of The Cemetery of Untold Stories, doesn't want to end up like her friend, a novelist who fought so long and hard to finish a book that it threatened her sanity. So when Alma inherits a small plot of land in the Dominican Republic, her homeland, she has the beautiful idea of turning it into a place to bury her untold stories--literally. She creates a graveyard for the manuscript drafts and the characters whose lives she tried and failed to bring to life and who still haunt her.

Alma wants her characters to rest in peace. But they have other ideas and soon begin to defy their author: they talk back to her and talk to one another behind her back, rewriting and revising themselves. Filomena, a local woman hired as the groundskeeper, becomes a sympathetic listener to the secret tales unspooled by Alma's characters. Among them, Bienvenida, dictator Rafael Trujillo's abandoned wife who was erased from the official history, and Manuel Cruz, a doctor who fought in the Dominican underground and escaped to the United States.

 

The SalviSoul Cookbook: Salvadoran Recipes and the Women Who Preserve Them by Karla Tatiana Vasquez | On Sale April 30

In search of the recipes and traditions that made her feel at home, food historian and Salvadoran Karla Tatiana Vasquez took to the internet to find the dishes her mom made throughout her childhood. But when she couldn't find any, she decided to take matters into her own hands. What started as a desire to document recipes turned into sharing the joys, histories, and tribulations of the women in her life.

In this collection of eighty recipes, Karla shares her conversations with moms, aunts, grandmothers, and friends to preserve their histories so that they do not go unheard. Here are recipes for Rellenos de Papa from Patricia, who remembers the Los Angeles earthquakes of the 1980s for more reasons than just fear; Flor de Izote con Huevos Revueltos, a favorite of Karla's father; as well as variations on the beloved Salvadoran Pupusa, a thick masa tortilla stuffed with different combinations of pork, cheese, and beans. Though their stories vary, the women have a shared experience of what it was like in El Salvador before the war, and what life was like as Salvadoran women surviving in their new home in the United States.

 

Financially Lit!: The Modern Latina’s Guide to Level Up Your Dinero & Become Financially Poderosa by Jannese Torres | On Sale April 30

In many immigrant households, money isn't often a topic of discussion, so financial education can be minimal--especially when a family is just trying to survive the day-to-day. Despite being the largest minority group in the United States, the Latino community still faces cultural and systemic barriers that prevent them from building wealth. As a first-generation Latina, Jannese Torres, award-winning money expert, educator, and podcaster, knows these unique challenges well. She set out to pursue the traditional American Dream, becoming the first woman in her family to graduate from college, climb the corporate ladder, and secure the six-figure paycheck, only to find herself miserable and unfulfilled. She soon realized that everything she'd been taught about money and success wasn't as it seemed. After discovering the true meaning of wealth, Torres resolved to pave her own path, leaving the life she was told she should want for one of entrepreneurship, autonomy, and financial freedom.

Review and Author Q&A: A Maleta Full of Treasures by Natalia Sylvester and Illustrated by Juana Medina

In A Maleta Full of Treasures, a young girl named Dulce is watching her abuela pack maletas through a screen. Her paternal grandmother is traveling from Peru soon to visit her in Miami. Dulce hasn’t seen her in three years.

Abuela wants to know: “What would you like me to bring you, mi dulce?” 

“Just you,” Dulce responds.

But Abuela promises a surprise. And soon, Dulce is reunited with her grandmother who arrives with suitcases piled high as mountains. They settle at home and begin to open the maletas. Inside them, Dulce finds all kinds of treasures and a sweet, earthy smell. Abuela tells her it’s the scent of home.

From award-winning author Natalia Sylvester and illustrator Juana Medina comes a tender story about cherished family visits and the connections we nurture with people and places dear to us. Reading it felt like a warm embrace. 

Out on April 16 from Dial Books for Young Readers, A Maleta Full of Treasures is Sylvester’s first picture book. It was inspired partly by the special visits from relatives who live in Peru and would come to the US to spend time with Sylvester and her family. “They’d bring these suitcases full of candies and letters from family members, and photographs and little trinkets – whatever small gifts they could bring,” the author recalled. “Nothing that was really, I would say, expensive. I treasured them because they were priceless.”

La Maleta De Tesoros – a Spanish version of the forthcoming children’s book – will be published simultaneously.

Sylvester recently spoke with Latinx in Publishing about what inspired her first picture book, what the maleta symbolizes to her, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo (AC): Congratulations on A Maleta Full of Treasures! This is your first picture book after years of writing for adults and teens. Reading it felt like a warm embrace. What inspired you to write this book?

Natalia Sylvester (NS): First of all, thank you for that. I’m so glad that it feels that way because that’s really what I had hoped it would feel. There’s two things that inspired this book. A) We had moved from Peru when I was four. And in the time between when I was four to around 12, we couldn’t go back until we sorted out (paperwork). As immigration, the system is so slow and full of many twists and turns, and ups and downs, that are different for everyone. In our case, it prevented us from going back to Peru for all those years, which was a huge portion of my childhood. And yet it never felt like Peru was absent from my sense of self and from my heart. That was really thanks to my relatives who would come visit. They’d bring these suitcases full of candies and letters from family members, and photographs and little trinkets – whatever small gifts they could bring. Nothing that was really, I would say, expensive. I treasured them because they were priceless. 

I remember my mom would ask relatives to bring Peruvian history books so that we could learn about our own history, since we weren’t learning it in US schools. And I wanted to capture that feeling and anticipation, but also the magic of having a relative visit you and all the ways that the home feels different. I remember the smells that they would bring with them. They would fill our house. It was like, that’s what Peru smells like. And I just wanted to celebrate that. 

B) It was actually very much inspired by the word ‘maleta.’ When I was writing Running, there was actually a line where one of the characters who is Peruvian-American is eating a candy and she offers it to my main character. I think she ends up saying something like, ‘I have a whole maleta-full back home.’ There was a point in the editing process when somebody asked, ‘Hey, why not just say a whole suitcase-full back home?’ And I thought, Well, no, because this is how we code switch. I don’t actually use the word ‘suitcase.’ Even if I’m speaking English, for me that word is one that’s full of emotion, and full of a specific emotion. It’s very much connected to those Latin American roots. And so I always code switch for that word. To me it’s a ‘maleta.’ And so I wanted to capture that sense of what it means that it’s not just a little literal word.

...I wanted to capture that feeling and anticipation, but also the magic of having a relative visit you and all the ways that the home feels different. I remember the smells that they would bring with them. They would fill our house. It was like, that’s what Peru smells like. And I just wanted to celebrate that. 

AC: I can see this story being deeply resonant to families with loved ones who still live in the countries they hail from. I myself remember the excitement of wondering what’s inside a maleta. To you, what does the maleta symbolize?

NS: To me, it symbolizes a sense of home no matter where you go… It symbolizes this connection and this sense of self that we carry with us when you’ve moved from one country to another, when you have loved ones moving between those places to visit you and vice versa, if you happen to be able to go back and visit them. It’s all the things that we carry, and the things that we hold close through that constant travel.

AC: There’s a precious moment in the book when Dulce begins to ration the sweets her abuela brought, basically savoring what’s left. She knows the visit is coming to an end. Tell us about that moment. What were you trying to show to readers?

NS: When my relatives would come over and they’d bring cookies and candies, each of us cousins had our favorites. And obviously, they can only bring so many. There’s always a concern about how much will your maleta weigh? Are you going to go over the weight limit and have to pay extra? And we would never pay extra, so of course we’re not going over the weight limit. You have a finite amount, like anything. It’s not the same as candies you would get here in the US. You can’t just go to the supermarket and get more.

To me, it seemed to also really reflect this idea of, I love that they’re visiting, but I know that they have to go back soon. So you start really trying to enjoy what’s there while it’s there. Los gozas. You try to savor them – not just the candies, but the moments that you have together.

AC: Dulce has never been to the country where her abuela is from, yet she longs for it. It made me think deeply about the ties some of us feel to certain countries and places. What do you make of that longing, and what was it like to put it on the page?

NS: I think it’s something that feels kind of innate. Like I said, I came here when I was four, so my first memories are actually here in the US. And yet the other thing that coexists alongside that is being an immigrant from a very young age, seeing how our family is not yet fitting in, is trying to adapt to this new country, the new language, the new customs, while also trying to stay connected and preserve our own cultures and traditions. Being aware of all that from a young age, I remember having this very distinct feeling of: Even though all I know is here in the US, I also know there’s so much more beyond that, that I left. And that is equally a part of me.  I missed Peru even though I didn’t remember it, because my family and parents kept it alive inside of me and through our language and the food we’d eat… I really did long for it. 

I remember the very first time we finally went back. And I say ‘first time,’ even though it wasn’t my first time there. But to me it felt like the first time going when I was 12. I was so affected by that, that I got a bag of soil from my mom’s childhood backyard. We were staying at my aunt and uncle’s house, which had been my mom’s childhood home. I went into their backyard and filled a bag with soil, and I took it home with me to the US because I wanted to take that piece of home with me. And I was 12. I didn’t know that you’re not supposed to do that. My mom found out later. She was like, ‘I can’t believe Customs didn’t stop you.’ It was so embedded in me, this idea of, Yes, the US is home and it’s where we’ve made our lives but our roots are also here. And that is equally a part of you. I didn’t feel as complete until I had those two pieces together.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from A Maleta Full of Treasures?

NS: I do hope they’ll have that warmth and tenderness you spoke about. I would love it if it helps readers feel seen in the same ways that, for example, Juana made me feel seen when I saw her illustrations. In the same way that I felt like when I was younger, reading children’s books, and didn’t necessarily see my family and my home in those books. But when I started to see the spreads of this book, I was like, Oh my God, I didn’t know that could happen. It almost felt like it healed this inner child of mine. 

I hope it’ll inspire excitement and get children and their adults to talk about the things that they treasure, and why they treasure them. It was really important to me that these aren’t necessarily treasures of monetary value. They’re treasures that can be small and simple, but are very meaningful. There’s reasons for why they connect to specific people and places that a person loves or cares for, or maybe misses. So I hope it’ll inspire people to express that and value it. 

I see stories as comfort, and I hope that that will also bring comfort even to those who might also be missing that home country. Maybe they haven’t gone yet, either. I hope this gives them a sense of hope and helps them feel connected to those loved ones, despite that distance.


Natalia Sylvester is an award-winning author of the young adult novels Breathe and Count Back from Ten and Running and the adult novels Everyone Knows You Go Home and Chasing the Sun. Born in Lima, Peru, she grew up in Miami, Central Florida, and South Texas, and received her BFA from the University of Miami. A Maleta Full of Treasures is her first picture book.

 

Juana Medina is the creator of the Pura Belpré award-winning chapter book Juana & Lucas and many other titles and has illustrated numerous picture books, including ‘Twas the Night Before Pride and Smick! Born and raised in Bogotá, Colombia, Juana Medina now lives with her family in the Washington D.C. area.

 

Amaris Castillo is an award-winning journalist, writer, and the creator of Bodega Stories, a series featuring real stories from the corner store. Her writing has appeared in La Galería Magazine, Aster(ix) Journal, Spanglish Voces, PALABRITAS, Dominican Moms Be Like… (part of the Dominican Writers Association’s #DWACuenticos chapbook series), and most recently Quislaona: A Dominican Fantasy Anthology and Sana, Sana: Latinx Pain and Radical Visions for Healing and Justice. Her short story, “El Don,” was a prize finalist for the 2022 Elizabeth Nunez Caribbean-American Writers’ Prize by the Brooklyn Caribbean Literary Festival. She is a proud member of Latinx in Publishing’s Writers Mentorship Class of 2023 and lives in Florida with her family and dog.

Exclusive Excerpt From Ananda Lima’s Craft: Stories I Wrote for the Devil

Latinx in Publishing is very excited to partner with Macmillan Publishers to bring you an exclusive excerpt from Craft: Stories I Wrote for the Devil (on sale June 18, 2024), written by inaugural Work-In-Progress fellow, Ananda Lima. Keep reading below for an exclusive sneak peak!

TROPICÁLIA

                               I’m only interested in what is not mine.

—Oswald de Andrade, The Cannibalist Manifesto, 1928

                            Fred, what we want is, I think, what everyone wants, and

                           what you and your viewers have—civilization . . . We want

                           to be civilized.

—Brain Gremlin, Gremlins II: The New Batch, 1990


Sunday, August 20 🌘 Waning Crescent

(Day minus 1)

I woke from unsettling dreams to my mattress jingling with loose change. I lay on my stiff back, armor-tight with tension. I raised my head a little and saw my brown belly divided into sections, striped by the sun slicing through half-open vertical blinds. The lines extended and covered the room with bars. With a monstrous hangover, I peeled off a penny stuck to the skin next to my belly button, then remem- bered my passport.

I stood up too quickly and shielded my right eye from a beam of sunlight. Wincing at something hard digging into the sole of my foot, I looked down and saw I stepped on my treasured Gremlins key chain, fracturing my poor Gizmo’s tiny plastic back. I was sweating. I closed the blinds. Part of my nightmare returned (sun, salt, me with an insect’s legs, scurrying south on city streets).

My phone hid in my papers on global localization strategies (I worked with semiautomated corporate translation), betrayed only by its limp cord, hopelessly disconnected from a power source. Reflected on my dead screen, I looked like vermin. A dream, I reminded myself, and plugged in the phone. As I waited, I stood up and readjusted a crooked white framed triptych of a winking Pop Art Carmen Miranda, her three heads heavy with fruit. The screen turned on and I wiped away the notifications. No missed calls. No emails from work. My nausea gathered and condensed into a singularity in my stomach. That part had not been a dream. No messages about my missing passport. My passport, holding my H-1B work visa, was gone.


Sunday, August 13 🌖 Waning Gibbous

(Day minus 8)

I was having Cheerios for lunch on the shelf I IKEA-hacked into a counter in my kitchen, which was also my living room. I’d worked late on an analysis of our human translator testers the night before. It had gone well, and I was excited about what I might bring to my boss, Meredith, the following week. But I had overdone it and needed a break. So I spent most of my Sunday morning on Pinterest. My prewar studio impersonating a one-bedroom apartment was not as I wanted it yet, but getting there. The view was still water towers on this end and a dumpster on the other. But I had an exposed brick wall, tropical plants, including a monstera, a berimbau I couldn’t play. Though I hadn’t found anything on Pinterest that day (a bad sign).

I swiped out of the news Google had selected for me (rumors of raids in Queens, seven steps to boost your career, tips for watching the Great American Eclipse), then checked there were no emails from work. I needed to stop thinking about work (it had become even harder since Meredith mentioned a possible promotion). On the Brasileiros de Nova Iorque group, a post advertising a facial had three likes. Seven likes on a picture of a Minnie Mouse cake surrounded by brigadeiros. And 137 combined sad faces, angry faces, thumbs-up, at least one laughing emoji, and fifty comments on a post by a woman thinking about divorce but afraid for her green card application. The top comment began, “I get that there are many out there that don’t respect the law. But if you choose to do things right (like I certainly do), there are only two ways: it’s either a real marriage or an employer sponsors you. Now if you choose not to educate yourself, not to work hard, or . . .”

I stopped reading, startled by something moving on a spoon on the counter, just under where I was holding the phone. I thought it was a cockroach but realized the dark lump trapped at the center of the spoon had been my reflection. I heard a buzzing coming from the window. There was a fly there, trapped between the glass and the screen. I didn’t want to kill it per se; I just wanted it gone. So I looked for help on YouTube, which led me to The Fly, a movie I hadn’t seen since I was a child. I watched it instead of dealing with the real fly, and that was my Sunday. Nothing else happened, but the comments from the Brasileiros de Nova Iorque group stayed with me the whole day and through the night.


Monday, August 14 🌗 Last Quarter

(Day minus 7)

That Monday, I missed my alarm and woke up late at eight thirty. I got ready in a panic. When Meredith had told me about a position opening up and briefly mentioned this one guy as my competitor, I’d imagined some guy in a skinny suit, with gelled hair and pointy, overly shiny brown leather shoes. I imagined him in the mirror, shaking his head at me as I hurried to brush my teeth. The position had to be mine. There were the usual things: yes, career, I needed more money. But mostly, I was entering the last year of my H-1B visa and needed to ask the company to sponsor my green card, as they had vaguely alluded to when I’d been hired.

I was about to leave but paused at the threshold of my open front door. I sent a message to Meredith, apologizing for running late. I told her there was trouble on the F line and that I would be there as soon as I could. Then I went back in and sat on my green velvet couch. I opened the Brasileiros de Nova Iorque group and scrolled through the posts on the president’s tweets, the eclipse, and microblading. The woman wanting a divorce seemed to be gone. But I wasn’t after her. I kept scrolling until I found the ICE thread. Those who had passports, visas, and green cards were arguing about whether to always carry them (“I thought that was just an Arizona thing,” “How will they be able to tell,” “In 25 years nobody has ever,” “Well, they asked me,” “If you have nothing to hide”). Of course, the rule didn’t fully make sense, as a Brazilian guy who appeared white in his profile picture had pointed out in the group. If they stopped noncitizens to check their papers, wouldn’t they have to stop citizens as well? How would they know whom to stop? It wasn’t like noncitizens put stickers on their lapels indicating noncitizenship. He reminded me of the guy in the studio control room in Gremlins 2, mocking the logic of the “don’t feed after midnight” rule, speculating what would happen to a gremlin crossing time zones. As he begins to laugh at his own jokes, a gremlin springs up and eats his face.

There it was, right after the comment on rumored ICE activity on the 7, the USCIS link. I clicked. The open-armed blue-and-white eagle greeted me in its familiar unnerving way. I read the passage (“every alien,” “at all times,” “personal possession,” “alien registration,” “comply,” “guilty,” “fined,” “imprisoned,” etc., etc.) again. Yes, supposedly, it applied to all of us. Anyone not considered a citizen had to be ready with the applicable papers. At all times.

I thought of my opponent for the promotion again. I imagined him thin, with a sharp jawline, blue eyes, black hair, walking into our building, taking confident sips of his morning kale smoothie. Fresh and ready for action, having started his day with yoga or spinning or both. I imagined Meredith’s boss, Mr. Koning, and his lot of higher-ups nodding to one another in approval. They’d notice a commotion in the background, turn, and see me being shoved into a van while trying to appear professional in a pencil skirt. Handcuffed, I’d still wave meekly at Meredith, who would admit, embarrassed, that the woman being taken away by the authorities was the candidate she’d suggested for promotion.

I went back in for my passport, safely cocooned in a ziplock bag, inside a shoebox, under my bed. I opened the H-1B stamp page, hovered my fingers over my picture, the signature, the seal, just short of touching it. I closed the passport and put it inside a compartment in my respectable brown leather Banana Republic outlet bag and zipped it, then closed and buttoned the top flap.

On the train to work, I let go of the pole momentarily and searched for any new posts about H-1Bs on the Brasileiros de Nova Iorque group. I grabbed the pole again and clicked with my free hand on the link someone had posted of a forum that crowdsourced updates from applicants for various visas and calculated current processing times. But I lost reception before it opened. I had looked at the forum repeatedly and most likely wouldn’t have found anything new, but I couldn’t stop checking.

I swapped the hand holding the pole, brushed lightly against the hand of a blond woman, and apologized. She looked straight ahead. A message from Meredith popped up on my screen: “Everything is fine over here.” Luckily, I was not meeting her first thing in the morning. And I still had a small buffer before the meeting with the translators. “I’m so sorry,” I texted Meredith. I took a deep breath and went over the plan for the translators meeting again. I would walk to their backroom, the same room where I’d worked when I first joined, then have them leave their cubicles and sit with me in a circle over cookies and coffee. Nothing formal. I would remind them again of how I had started just like them. How Marisa had helped me find everything on the first day of work, how Miki had stopped me from accidentally entering the men’s bathroom. Then I would pivot to introducing the basics of the new rewards system. Not all the details on the points this time. I just hoped they understood the opportunity available to each of them. If only they could see it. I was lucky to have had Meredith help me. Maybe I could do the same for one of them. After the meeting, I’d go over the new targets with Meredith. I knew we could increase the output on our end if we just tightened the ship a bit. I was also thinking of a new metric, a simple addition requiring translators to rate the work of their colleagues as it moves through the workflow. It would be a chance for them to get more credit when they worked hard. And it would address our concern about individual accountability. Meredith would love it.

The train sped up. A white man in a suit reached for our pole, squeezing by a Latino man wearing jeans and work boots, who reminded me of somebody, though I couldn’t tell whom. The blond woman sighed. I counted the five hands sharing the pole, including a woman—brown like me, but with electric-blue nail polish—who just managed to grab it with her fingertips. I couldn’t see her face. Across the car, I spotted a muscular white man with a crew cut, dark gray pants, and a black polo shirt, sitting on one of the orange seats. A photograph from the Brasileiros de Nova Iorque group sprung to my memory: men in black shirts and sunglasses, “ICE” written on white letters on their backs. Without thinking, I ran my hand over the pocket carrying my passport. I wished I could get to work.

I realized the man reminded me of Jeff Goldblum, which was strangely reassuring. I thought of The Fly. Brundle’s tragic and hilariously gross journey from scientist to giant fly. His skin smooth, then stubble, then blisters, then gooey raw meat. All done in analog in 1986. The whole thing had to do with movement, teletransportation, which fascinated me. He entered a pod a normal guy. He couldn’t see it, but by the time he stepped out of the other pod, he’d already become a monster.

As the doors finally slid open at my stop, another message from Meredith arrived: “Don’t worry about a thing.”


Sunday, August 20 🌘 Waning Crescent

(Day minus 1)

The passport lasted less than a week being carried everywhere in my bag. There were a couple of times when it felt right to have it there, close to me. That one time in the subway; that afternoon walking under the rows of American flags, by the rows of police (or military or both) at Penn Station; that time going through the security desk and turnstile when I joined Meredith for a client meeting in a different building. But mostly, there was the fear I would lose it. It was like being resigned to having a fly trapped in a room: Sometimes you forgot it was there, and then it came back buzzing, and you had to wait until it stopped and you forgot it again.

And now here I was. Two caplets of Tylenol, a mug of water, and my phone lay on my imitation-marble coffee table. I called the Mandarin Hotel bar. I balanced my phone between my head and my shoulder as I waited, squeezing the sides of my broken Gizmo key chain as if trying to undo the split along its back. With the back open, its head no longer stayed firmly in place. Nobody answered at the bar. I tried the main hotel, where the receptionist informed me the bar opened at four. I thought of the USCIS passage (“alien,” “at all times,” “personal,” “possession,” “guilty”), sitting among the other words on their site all this time. And the same text in dusty books before there was such a thing as a USCIS website, the letters set in bookshelves while I played in our muddy backyard in Brazil, my cousins laughing as I imitated ALF’s dubbed Portuguese voice. And the same words on other shelves somewhere in the US before that, long before I’d been born.

I put up my broken Gizmo up on my bookshelf, next to a sad baby banana seedling I’d ordered online, its two little leaves wilted and browned. The shelves were full of classics I hadn’t read. A few titles in Portuguese (Memórias Póstumas de Brás Cubas, A Paixão Segundo G.H., O Estrangeiro), the rest in English. Part of an effort to convey that I am a particular kind of person I couldn’t have pretended to be back in Brazil. An ambition that is only possible because Americans don’t know what my accent in Portuguese, or my name, or my parents’ names convey about our place in the world.

Gizmo’s head fell off and rolled close to the edge of the shelf, butI caught it right before it dropped and carefully placed it next to itscracked headless body. At the vintage store where I’d found it my first year in the US, there had been a couple in mismatched plaid shirts ahead of me in line who saw the key chain first. They looked at it with mild interest and put it back. When the woman said the word “gremlins,” it took a second for my brain to map the word as she pronounced it to the way the word had lived in my head as a child. We said “gremilins” in Portuguese, that extra i added like a drop of water to the back of a mogwai, giving rise to an additional syllable. When I realized the key chain was Gizmo, I reached for it immediately. I estimated how many times I’d watched Gremlins 2 in Sessão da Tarde reruns in Brazil. Every afternoon I ate lunch with my brother and sister and watched the soap operas. After the novelas came the few movies TV Globo had dubbed in Portuguese. The same recognizable voices regurgitated out of the mouths of different actors, over and over in all the movies they showed. How strange to feel at that moment that the little Gizmo was more rightly mine than theirs, that American couple who’d clearly missed the movie’s brilliance.

I pushed the broken pieces back, farther into the shelf, to make sure they didn’t fall, and went to get ready to leave.


Saturday, August 19 🌘 Waning Crescent

(Day minus 2)

I last checked on my passport late Saturday afternoon, just before I walked out with Meredith. She had found a way to bring me along for drinks with Mr. Koning, her boss. As I’d been about to leave work the previous day, she had held my shoulders, looked me in the eye, and told me the timing was perfect. I had been giddy about it all afternoon, but now I was worried about what I was supposed to do, about not messing up my great chance. We were at an exclusive spot at the Mandarin Hotel. A place just like I’d imagined people like them went: a little Mad Men, somewhere along a lineage of leather Chesterfields, dark wood, and shelves filled with matching book covers, seamlessly mixed with dark mid-century furniture. And those floor-to-ceiling windows again. Here the city appeared brighter and closer. It felt as if the people in the other buildings could see everything and everyone, including me. It felt familiar, though I had never been there. A déjà vu. I couldn’t place it, and that made me more nervous. I ordered a Malbec.

I sipped it quietly as they discussed projects outside my department. Meredith alternated her posture: sometimes sitting back and propping her elbows on the back of the chair, grabbing her whiskey on the rocks in the relaxed “I don’t care” manner of Mr. Koning and other seemingly powerful men in the restaurant; sometimes sitting up, cross-legged, her arms close to her body as if trying not to occupy space; sometimes leaning into the table and touching her hair, almost flirtatiously. Mr. Koning didn’t notice how she advanced and retreated strategically, slowly gaining space. She indulged all his interruptions and came back around in a gentle way, until her points were made. Even after everything Meredith had taught me and what I’d learned by watching her, there was so much more. I was struggling to find an opening. I realized I was hiding behind my wineglass, not varying my posture, not saying anything. Mr. Koning didn’t seem to notice me. I put my glass down and leaned into the table slightly, bending toward him. I decided my focus now would be to appear fascinated by whatever he said (which was?). I knew Meredith would manage to bring me into the conversation in a manner that was most advantageous to me. I waited for her cue. She always looked out for me.

Maybe the strange familiarity I felt were the large windows, reminding me of the view in the office. Those nights when I’d snuck out of my cubicle to work alone by a window in the conference room, after everyone had gone home. Yes, this was familiar. But there was something else too.

When I was close to finishing my glass, she asked what I was drinking. Mr. Koning wasn’t looking, fiddling with his phone, so she shook her head and scrunched her face at her whiskey. We both smiled. Before I could answer, she said softly that I had to try her favorite drink, a passion fruit Caipijito. I always felt stupidly possessive of caipirinhas, which I didn’t usually drink. Already my brain was activating the heuristic script for expressing how the drink conformed or deviated from the elusive original and an explanation of how caipirinhas really were back at home (as if they were really that different). But I knew I shouldn’t deny her. Besides, it sounded like a good drink.

Mr. Koning answered his phone.

“Fantastic!” He nodded to both of us, still talking to his caller (the second time he had looked at me, the first being a glance during introductions). He stood and headed out toward the elevators.

Meredith audibly exhaled. Her body seemed to soften as she fluffed up her blond hair with both hands. She explained that she didn’t always get to come out with Aldert (Mr. Koning) and that we were only here for his pre-drinks, while he waited for whatever important people he was here to see. But it didn’t matter, she continued. It was still a good opportunity. She was excited she finally got to bring me this time.

“It’s good for you to be on his radar,” Meredith mock whispered, touching my hand with the corner of hers and looking about the room conspiratorially. “Sometimes it’s productive, but sometimes he’s just in the mood to be entertained. Then we just have to be agreeable and split without being awkward, before the big guys come.”

“Got it.” I nodded. The drink was delicious. I was so grateful to her. This place was perfect. I held both her hands in a way I had never done before. “Thank you, Meredith.”

Meredith smiled. She’d been happy with me the whole day. I wasn’t sure why. “How’s the cocktail?”

“So good.” I took another sip.

“Oh my God, isn’t it though?” She looked even more pleased. “You are doing great. I knew you would.”

Meredith had been a little guarded when I first met her. But with time, she saw that I both worked hard and didn’t cause trouble. I was able to understand things she could not talk about to anyone else at work, often to do with navigating power structures as a woman. I wouldn’t start petitions or go running to HR if she talked about things as they truly were. One day, she sternly called me into her office at the end of a quarterly status meeting, but her summons had only been an excuse to remove me from a conversation with a guy from another department, known to be creepy. She gradually opened up and became a mentor as well as my boss. Sometimes, like right then, I wanted to hug her, which would’ve been silly, so I smiled at her instead. She smiled back. I hoped she knew how grateful I was.

I looked at the moon through the windows of the Mandarin Hotel. A thinning curve, most of it disappearing into darkness, pulsating faintly, almost a mirage. I realized what this place, the large dark glass windows reminded me of: Gremlins 2. I had framed an eight by ten version of the film poster and hung it on the wall between my bedroom and bathroom. The illustration showed a solid wooden desk and the scratched back of a plush leather chair. Only the hand of the creature facing the view of the city at night was visible, its skin scaly and green, its black-clawed finger lingering in the air, about to tap down the ashes from a lit cigar. They hadn’t dubbed the gremlins when they sang “New York, New York.” The creatures performed and ran amok to the sound of Sinatra as the terrified humans did whatever they could to keep them from coming out of their dark glass enclosure—and now here I was. New York City outside those large windows. Meredith and I clinked our glasses with the last sips of our Caipijitos. She ordered two more.

I wondered what time it was (“always midnight somewhere”) as I stabbed an olive. I thought of the green skin on the hand dangling the cigar. I thought of how the green in steaming hatching gremlin cocoons looked like the neon-green light coming out of the pod in the promo poster of The Fly. I thought of myself sitting there, my body filled with American proteins. American water. American sugar. The alcohol taking over my brain and liver. I remembered reading that it took ten years for a human skeleton to be completely replaced through cell renewal. I had American bones now. I’d thought I was the eater, but America had been eating me the whole time, from within.


Excerpted from CRAFT: Stories I Wrote for the Devil, copyright © 2024 by Ananda Lima, provided by Tor Books, imprint of Tor Publishing Group, division of Macmillan Publishers.


(photo credit: Beowulf Sheehan)

Ananda Lima is a poet, fiction writer, and translator, the author of Craft: Stories I Wrote for the Devil (forthcoming from Tor Books) and Mother/land (Black Lawrence Press), winner of the Hudson Prize.  She is also the author of four chapbooks, including Amblyopia (Bull City Press) and Tropicália (Newfound), winner of the Newfound Prose Prize. Her work has appeared in The American Poetry ReviewPoets.org, Kenyon Review Online, Gulf Coast, Witness, and elsewhere. She was awarded the inaugural WIP Fellowship by Latinx-in-Publishing, sponsored by Macmillan Publishers, and was a finalist for the Restless Books Prize for New Immigrant Writing and the Chicago Review of Books Chirby Awards. She has an MA in Linguistics from UCLA and an MFA from Rutgers University, Newark. Her voice was praised as “singular and wise” (Cathy Park Hong), and Craft was described as “an absolutely thrilling reminder that short stories can be the best kind of magic” (Kelly Link). Originally from Brasilia, Brazil, she lives in Chicago.

Review and Author Q&A: Churro Stand by Karina N. González and Illustrated by Krystal Quiles

One summer day, the scent of buttery vanilla fills Lucía’s family kitchen. Her fingers become coated in cinnamon sugar. Before her are trays of churros.

“Mamá’s work begins before the sun is up,” the girl narrates. “Each churro is made with love and destined for a hungry belly.”

Lucía’s mother stands in front of the stove, cradling a large pot of the pastry dough. A half-dozen churros sizzle in a pan.

Soon, it’s time to head out into the streets of New York City. Lucía, her brother Santiago, and Mamá are hoping to sell churros today. 

From award-winning author-illustrator duo Karina N. González and Krystal Quiles comes Churro Stand, a heartwarming picture book that celebrates working-class families, community, and love. Out on April 16 from Cameron Kids, the book follows Lucía as she helps her mother try to support their family. There’s a gentle reminder here, too, about the role children of working-class parents sometimes have to play in order to push ahead. El Carrito de Churros – a Spanish version of the book – will be published simultaneously.

González – a bilingual speech-language pathologist in Brooklyn – was partly inspired to write Churro Stand after seeing a mother selling the sugar-coated fried dough inside a subway station. The woman had her daughter with her. “That reminded me of my mom and me, and how I would always accompany my mother to work. And how I’d complain or try to rush her,” González told Latinx in Publishing. “As children, we don’t understand all the sacrifices that our parents make for us.”

Lucía’s admiration for her mother shines in Churro Stand – thanks to González’s text full of childlike wonder. And Quiles brings forth a visual snack for readers, layering painted textures and multiple drawing mediums to capture the spirit of summertime fun and the beauty of community.

Churro Stand is the second book González and Quiles will publish together. Their first, The Coquíes Still Sing, was published by Roaring Brook Press in August 2023 and received a Pura Belpré Youth Author and Illustrator Honor.

Ahead of the release of Churro Stand, González spoke with me about depicting a street vendor in a children’s book, working with Quiles again, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.


Amaris Castillo (AC): Congratulations on Churro Stand. What inspired this story?

Karina N. González (KNG): I love getting asked this question about this book because I feel like ultimately everything I write has an underlying social message and a political message, even. In a mayor’s race in New York City several years ago, there was a certain mayoral candidate who went on a tirade against street vendors – particularly food vendors – and how they were taking away business from brick-and-mortar shops. They even specifically mentioned the women who sell churros in the subway stations in New York City, or on the sidewalks. At that time, I’d been seeing videos of NYPD confiscating street vendors’ food, taking away their carts, or giving them fines. I felt like this was really blown out of proportion, and unfair to these people who come here looking to just make some money. Oftentimes they’re women and they have children. They might be single mothers. And so this whole political climate that was going on in New York City that summer inspired me to think about: Could I possibly write a picture book about this? 

In the author’s note, I reference a particular scene when I was coming home from work. I remember seeing a mother selling churros at the Broadway Junction subway station, and she had her daughter next to her. That reminded me of my mom and me, and how I would always accompany my mother to work. And how I’d complain or try to rush her. As children, we don’t understand all the sacrifices that our parents make for us. So all of these different experiences, what I was seeing in the news cycle and with my own eyes, compounded my whole vision and inspired me to write this story.

AC: In your book, Lucía and her brother join their mom as she heads to Manhattan to sell churros. Lucía is a keen observer of her mom’s churro-making and the way she navigates her work. What was it like to write about a street vendor through a child’s eyes?

KNG: I found it really fun, actually, because I work with children. I’m a bilingual speech-language pathologist at an elementary and middle school in Brooklyn, New York. I have students who have parents who work in hospitality, or who deliver food, or who are food vendors or street vendors. And so I often hear their stories, and their stories inspire mine. Writing this story from Lucía’s perspective also felt very personal for me. As children of working-class parents, we often get roped into our parents’ jobs without really realizing it. I wanted to show the reality that a lot of children experience throughout this nation, and even throughout the world. She comes along with mom on her workday, and she’s actively engaging to help Mami’s business succeed, and thereby helping the family as a whole and helping their community. I felt that very much when I was growing up. I’d help my mom all the time at work.

That feeling of children helping their parents, and all the wonder that they have in their eyes for their parents and all the sacrifices they make, you can kind of see that in Lucía when she interacts with her mom and how she views simple tasks that her mom does. Like how her mom waving the ladle while making the churros reminds Lucía of a magic wand.

The heart of the story is the message of the working-class people and the magical heroism of working parents, grandparents, and guardians. I just want to make sure that we acknowledge all the sacrifices that working-class parents go through, and I think this book gave me the opportunity to delve into that topic.

AC: That was a beautiful line. And I don’t want to spoil anything, but something happens in the book that threatens to jeopardize Lucía’s mom’s earnings. Relatably, in your author’s note you write that many street vendors work in unsavory conditions. What kind of research did you do for this book, and what did you learn about what it’s like to be a street vendor today?

KNG: I definitely did a lot of research. Even if I hadn’t written this book, it’s a topic that I’m very interested in. Like I said, I have my own anecdotal experiences just living in New York City and seeing the harassment that street vendors and food vendors experience. But there’s a lot of media around the harassment that street vendors experience in New York City, and many other cities across the nation. One particular organization that I follow closely is called the Street Vendor Project. They often document the harassment that they (vendors) experience at the hands of local police, or even citizens who come and harass them while they’re just simply selling food.

It was quite a task to go through the research. Although this is a pretty straightforward book and I’m not going into depth about the harassment that they face, it’s kind of implicit in the story. It was part of my intention, although I don’t explicitly state it. The heart of the story is the message of the working-class people and the magical heroism of working parents, grandparents, and guardians. I just want to make sure that we acknowledge all the sacrifices that working-class parents go through, and I think this book gave me the opportunity to delve into that topic.

AC: For Churro Stand you teamed up again with illustrator Krystal Quiles. What was it like to work with her again?

KNG: It’s a blast. Krystal is so talented. When The Coquíes Still Sing came out and we wrapped it up, we had our first book signing at Books of Wonder near Union Square. After we signed our books, we walked around the corner and found a local tapas bar. We noticed that they sold churros. And we thought, Wow, this is so serendipitous. So later that day and several months later, we would take trips to Union Square and she would sketch. I would accompany her and just watch her sketch and admire her. She was looking for inspiration and getting ideas. We would talk about the book. 

All I told Krystal was that I was thinking of a pastel palette. The Coquíes Still Sing was very vibrant, very lush, because Puerto Rico is tropical. We both had an idea of the palette, but all I said to her was that I was thinking of pastel colors. She said that she agreed, and she was thinking exactly the same thing. And voilà! This book is a dessert dreamland – colors that remind you of summertime, of desserts. And so it was a blast working with her again and seeing her work her magic.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from Churro Stand?

KNG: The core of this story is about working-class families. In children’s literature I want to make sure that there are honest depictions of families that exist in this country. That it’s not a one-dimensional depiction of families. That we are honest in that there are children who have parents who work as street vendors, as people who deliver food, and that we make sure that those folks are depicted in a way that shows the dignity of their existence. 

Although Lucía is kind of like the main character driving the story, for me I feel like the mom is the main character. She’s the heart of the story. We don’t see too many picture books where the parent is at the core of the story, and I really wanted to make sure that that was part of the book. This sense that mom is this magical heroine in this story, and why is mami the magical heroine? And all the things that mami does to make sure that they’re OK, and that they’re well fed, and that they’re enjoying themselves and that she’s providing for them. All of that was part of the story-making process. I’d like, at the end of the day, for people to really focus on that, and also enjoy Krystal’s amazing illustrations. I’ve read the book so many times, but I’ll find myself at home just flipping through the book. I live in New York City and it’s easy to hate on this city sometimes. But this story, when I look through the images and I think about all the amazing food and amazing cultures of the city, it makes me realize, Wow, this city is really special. I hope that people walk away with the feeling that our cities are really beautiful, and we should appreciate all of the cultures and communities that exist within.


Karina N. González is a bilingual speech-language pathologist at an elementary school in Brooklyn, where she uses storytelling as a tool for language development with her students. She is also the author of The Coquies Still Sing, for which she received a Pura Belpré Author Honor.

 

Amaris Castillo is an award-winning journalist, writer, and the creator of Bodega Stories, a series featuring real stories from the corner store. Her writing has appeared in La Galería Magazine, Aster(ix) Journal, Spanglish Voces, PALABRITAS, Dominican Moms Be Like… (part of the Dominican Writers Association’s #DWACuenticos chapbook series), and most recently Quislaona: A Dominican Fantasy Anthology and Sana, Sana: Latinx Pain and Radical Visions for Healing and Justice. Her short story, “El Don,” was a prize finalist for the 2022 Elizabeth Nunez Caribbean-American Writers’ Prize by the Brooklyn Caribbean Literary Festival. She is a proud member of Latinx in Publishing’s Writers Mentorship Class of 2023 and lives in Florida with her family and dog.

April 2024 Latinx Releases

 

On Sale April 2

 

The Black Girl Survives in This One: Horror Stories edited by Desiree S. Evans and Saraciea J. Fennell | YOUNG ADULT

A YA anthology of horror stories centering Black girls who battle monsters, both human and supernatural, and who survive to the end.

Be warned, dear reader: The Black girls survive in this one.

Celebrating a new generation of bestselling and acclaimed Black writers, The Black Girl Survives in This One makes space for Black girls in horror. Fifteen chilling and thought-provoking stories place Black girls front and center as heroes and survivors who slay monsters, battle spirits, and face down death. Prepare to be terrified and left breathless by the pieces in this anthology.

The bestselling and acclaimed authors include Erin E. Adams, Monica Brashears, Charlotte Nicole Davis, Desiree S. Evans, Saraciea J. Fennell, Zakiya Dalila Harris, Daka Hermon, Justina Ireland, L.L. McKinney, Brittney Morris, Maika & Maritza Moulite, Eden Royce, and Vincent Tirado. The foreword is by Tananarive Due.

 

The Blue Mimes by Sara Daniele Rivera| POETRY

Sara Daniele Rivera's award-winning debut is a collection of sprawling elegy in the face of catastrophic grief, both personal and public. From the lead-up to the 2016 presidential election through the COVID-19 pandemic, these poems memorialize lost loved ones and meditate on the not-yet gone--all while the wider-world loses its sense of connection, safety, and assurance. In those years of mourning, The Blue Mimes is a book of grounding and heartening resolve, even and especially in the states of uncertainty that define the human condition.

Rivera's poems travel between Albuquerque, Lima, and Havana, deserts and coastlines and cities, Spanish and English--between modes of language and culture that shape the contours of memory and expose the fault lines of the self. In those inevitable fractures, with honest, off-kilter precision, Rivera vividly renders the ways in which the bereft become approximations of themselves as a means of survival, mimicking the stilted actions of the people they once were. Where speech is not enough, this astonishing collection finds a radical practice in continued searching, endurance without promise--the rifts in communion and incomplete pictures that afford the possibility to heal.

 

The Cemetery of Untold Stories by Julia Alvarez| ADULT FICTION

Alma Cruz, the celebrated writer at the heart of The Cemetery of Untold Stories, doesn't want to end up like her friend, a novelist who fought so long and hard to finish a book that it threatened her sanity. So when Alma inherits a small plot of land in the Dominican Republic, her homeland, she has the beautiful idea of turning it into a place to bury her untold stories--literally. She creates a graveyard for the manuscript drafts and the characters whose lives she tried and failed to bring to life and who still haunt her.

Alma wants her characters to rest in peace. But they have other ideas and soon begin to defy their author: they talk back to her and talk to one another behind her back, rewriting and revising themselves. Filomena, a local woman hired as the groundskeeper, becomes a sympathetic listener to the secret tales unspooled by Alma's characters. Among them, Bienvenida, dictator Rafael Trujillo's abandoned wife who was erased from the official history, and Manuel Cruz, a doctor who fought in the Dominican underground and escaped to the United States.

The Cemetery of Untold Stories asks: Whose stories get to be told, and whose buried? Finally, Alma finds the meaning she and her characters yearn for in the everlasting vitality of stories. Julia Alvarez reminds us that the stories of our lives are never truly finished, even at the end.

 

These Hollowed Bones by Amelia Díaz Ettinger| POETRY

In These Hollowed Bones, birds are the conduit for conversations of internal emotions and the natural world. This collection ties together the themes of loss, marriage, and ecology, topics that are at once personal and universal. The voices contained within these poems speak of the isolation felt by both avian and human due to migration and loss of habitat, loss of home. Nature and bird lovers will find solace and self-recognition within these pages.

 

The House on Biscayne Bay by Chanel Cleeton |ADULT FICTION

As death stalks a gothic mansion in Miami, the lives of two women intertwine as the past and present collide in New York Times bestselling author Chanel Cleeton's atmospheric new novel.

With the Great War finally behind them, many Americans flock to South Florida with their sights set on making a fortune. When wealthy industrialist Robert Barnes and his wife, Anna, build Marbrisa, a glamorous estate on Biscayne Bay, they become the toast of the newly burgeoning society. Anna and Robert appear to have it all, but in a town like Miami, appearances can be deceiving, and one scandal can change everything.

Years later following the tragic death of her parents in Havana, Carmen Acosta journeys to Marbrisa, the grand home of her estranged older sister, Carolina, and her husband, Asher Wyatt. On the surface, the gilded estate looks like paradise, but Carmen quickly learns that nothing at Marbrisa is as it seems. The house has a treacherous legacy, and Carmen's own life is soon in jeopardy . . . unless she can unravel the secrets buried beneath the mansion's facade and stop history from repeating itself.

 

Cross-Stitch by Jazmina Barrera |Translated by Christina Macsweeney | ADULT FICTION

It was meant to be the trip of a lifetime. Mila, Citlali, and Dalia, childhood friends now college aged, leave Mexico City for the London of The Clash and the Paris of Courbet. They anticipate the cafés and crushes, but not the early signs that they are each steadily, inevitably changing.

That feels like forever ago. Mila, now a writer and a new mother, has just published a book on needlecraft--an art form so long dismissed as "women's work." But after learning Citlali has drowned, Mila begins to sift through her old scrapbooks, reflecting on their shared youth for the first time as a new wife and mother. What has come of all the nights the three friends spent embroidering together in silence? Did she miss the signs that Citlali needed help?

 

Cruzita and the Mariacheros by Ashley Granillo | MIDDLE GRADE

Cruzita is going to be a pop star. All she has to do is win a singing contest at her favorite theme park and get famous. But she can't go to the theme park this summer. Instead, she has to help out at her family's bakery, which has been struggling ever since Tío Chuy died. Cruzita's great-uncle poured his heart into the bakery--the family legacy--and now that he's gone, nothing is the same.

When Cruzita's not rolling uneven tortillas or trying to salvage rock-hard conchas, she has to take mariachi lessons, even though she doesn't know how to play her great-grandpa's violin and she's not fluent in Spanish. At first, she's convinced her whole summer will be a disaster. But as she discovers the heart and soul of mariachi music, she realizes that there's more than one way to be a star―and more than one way to carry on a legacy.

 

Our World: Colombia by Alexandra Alessandri | Illustrated by Manu Montoya | PICTURE BOOK

¡Hola! Come along for a day of exploring the sights and sounds of Colombia from the farm to the city. Join Bebé and Perrito as they snack on arepa con chocolate, visit the market, dance cumbia, and count whales in the waves. Colombian author Alexandra Alessandri and illustrator Manu Montoya draw on their personal experiences to create this vibrant board book as part of the Our World series for very young readers.

 

Sing It Like Celia by Mónica Mancillas |MIDDLE GRADE

Twelve-year-old Salva Sanchez has always been a fan of Celia Cruz, also known as "the queen of salsa." Her love of Celia stems from her mother, who leaves Salva without explanation one awful day. Now Salva is stuck with her investigative journalist father in an RV campground. In the middle of nowhere.

As Salva acclimates to her new environment and desperately tries to figure out why her mother left, she befriends a posse of campground kids who have started a band. When the kids discover that Salva has an amazing singing voice, they convince her to join their group. Soon, Salva learns how to find her voice--and herself--with the help of her newfound friends, her dad, and the one and only Celia Cruz.

 

Ultraviolet by Aida Salazar | MIDDLE GRADE

For Elio Solis, eighth grade fizzes with change--His body teeming with hormones. His feelings that flow like lava. His relationship with Pops, who's always telling him to man up, the Solis way. And especially Camelia, his first girlfriend.

But then, betrayal and heartbreak send Elio spiraling toward revenge, a fight to prove his manhood, and defend Camelia's honor. He doesn't anticipate the dire consequences--or that Camelia's not looking for a savior.

Hilarious, heartwarming, and highly relatable, Ultraviolet digs deep into themes of consent, puberty, masculinity, and the emotional lives of boys, as it challenges stereotypes and offers another way to be in the world.

 

You Are Here: Poetry in the Natural World edited by Ada Limón | POETRY

For many years, "nature poetry" has evoked images of Romantic poets standing on mountain tops. But our poetic landscape has changed dramatically, and so has our planet. Edited and introduced by the twenty-fourth Poet Laureate of the United States, Ada Limón, this book challenges what we think we know about "nature poetry," illuminating the myriad ways our landscapes--both literal and literary--are changing.You Are Here features fifty previously unpublished poems from some of the nation's most accomplished poets, including Joy Harjo, Diane Seuss, Rigoberto González, Jericho Brown, Aimee Nezhukumatathil, Paul Tran, and more. Each poem engages with its author's local landscape--be it the breathtaking variety of flora in a national park, or a lone tree flowering persistently by a bus stop--offering an intimate model of how we relate to the world around us and a beautifully diverse range of voices from across the United States.Joyful and provocative, wondrous and urgent, this singular collection of poems offers a lyrical reimagining of what "nature" and "poetry" are today, inviting readers to experience both anew.

 

On Sale April 9

 

City Girls by Loretta Lopez| MIDDLE GRADE

What Elisa, Lucia, and Alice see-and judge-of each other from the outside is drastically different from how each girl feels inside. They attend the same classes in the same New York City middle school, but no one knows that Elisa is trying to navigate the bewildering asylum process having just arrived from El Salvador; or that Lucia, who also speaks Spanish and brims with self-confidence, is caught in the middle of her parents' heartbreaking divorce; or that Alice, who appears to be a rebel in combat boots, carries the burden of her mother's progressing cancer.

Narrated by each girl in alternating chapters, City Girls captures the vulnerability of being a middle schooler and the relief and joy of finding friendship where you least expect it.

 

Canto Contigo by Jonny Garza Villa |YOUNG ADULT

In a twenty-four-hour span, Rafael Alvarez led North Amistad High School's Mariachi Alma de la Frontera to their eleventh consecutive first-place win in the Mariachi Extravaganza de Nacional; and met, made out with, and almost hooked up with one of the cutest guys he's ever met.

Now eight months later, Rafie's ready for one final win. What he didn't plan for is his family moving to San Antonio before his senior year, forcing him to leave behind his group while dealing with the loss of the most important person in his life--his beloved abuelo. Another hitch in his plan: The Selena Quintanilla-Perez Academy's Mariachi Todos Colores already has a lead vocalist, Rey Chavez--the boy Rafie made out with--who now stands between him winning and being the great Mariachi Rafie's abuelo always believed him to be. Despite their newfound rivalry for center stage, Rafie can't squash his feelings for Rey. Now he must decide between the people he's known his entire life or the one just starting to get to know the real him.

 

Bones Worth Breaking: A Memoir by David Martinez |ADULT NONFICTION

Nobody around David Martinez saw how quickly he was breaking apart except for his younger brother, Mike. They stood out in Idaho: mixed-race in a Mormon community that, in the years before David's birth, considered Black people ineligible for salvation. The Martinez brothers were raised to be "good boys," definitely not to get high, skateboard all night, or get arrested, all of which they did with zeal. Then their paths diverged. David went on a two-year mission trip to Brazil like his father before him, and Mike stayed in the States, finding himself in and out of prison. When David returned, in the middle of the still-unnamed opioid epidemic, things had irrevocably changed, and in 2021, Mike unexpectedly died in prison.

Martinez writes with a serrated edge, as viscerally felt as an exposed nerve, and transforms from a stoic boy constantly seeking escape to a vulnerable man eager to contextualize the legacies and losses that have shaped his life. With a wild, ragged velocity--flipping and soaring like a pro skater--Martinez defies a linear telling of his life and tackles topics from abuse and racism to writing and capturing the meaning of the specific nostalgia of saudade.

 

You by Rosa Alcalá | POETRY

Rosa Alcalá choreographs language to understand the body as it "gathers itself over time to become whole," recovering the speaker's intuition while unraveling memory to pinpoint the aches, anxieties, and lessons of a woman's survival. Ruminating on daughterhood, mothering, and the body's cumulative wisdom, YOU traces a jagged line through fears and joys both past and present.

 

I’ll Give You a Reason by Annell López |SHORT STORIES

The vibrant stories in I'll Give You a Reason explore race, identity, connection, and belonging in the Ironbound, an immigrant neighborhood in Newark, New Jersey. A young widow goes on her first date since her husband's death and finds herself hunting a bear in the woods with a near stranger. An unhappy wife compares her mother's love spells and rituals to her own efforts to repair her strained marriage. A self-conscious college student discovers a porn star who shares her name and becomes obsessed with her doppelgänger's freedom and comfort with her own body.Annell López's indelible characters tread the waters of political unrest, sexuality, religion, body image, Blackness, colorism, and gentrification--searching for their identities and a sliver of joy and intimacy. Through each story, a nuanced portrait of the "American Dream" emerges, uplifting the voices of those on its margins.

 

Why Did You Come Back Every Summer by Belén López Peiró | Translated by Maureen Shaughnessy | ADULT FICTION

A fractured account of family abuse, secrets, and the cost of pursuing the truth.

In the most private spaces, the most intimate betrayals occur. Belén López Peiró places us squarely in the tenderest of times--young teenagehood, in a home about to be ruptured by sexual assault. In this home, for this young woman, your assailant is your uncle, and also a police commissioner. The people who shelter you will reject you: your mother is his sister-in-law, your beloved aunt his wife and your cousin and friend his daughter. And the truth of what happened will depend entirely on you.

Why Did You Come Back Every Summer is a document of uncertainty, self-doubt, and the appearance of progress when there is none. A chorus of voices interrupt and overtake each other; interviews and reports are filed. The truth will be heard but how and by whom? Loyalties will shift and slip. And certain questions have no easy answers. What do you owe to your family? What do they owe you? How far will you go to get yourself back?

 

On Sale April 16

 

GLEEM by Freddy Carrasco |GRAPHIC NOVEL

Imbued with cyberpunk attitude and in the rebellious tradition of afrofuturism, GLEEM is drawn with a fierce momentum hurtling towards a future world. Carrasco's distinct cinematic style layers detailed panels and spreads, creating a multiplicity of perspectives, at once dizzying and hypnotic. Vignettes unspool in proximity to our own social realities and expand into the outer layers of possibility. Whether in the club or a robot repair workshop, the characters in these three interconnected stories burst across frames until they practically step off the page.

A boy becomes bored at church with his grandmother until he tries a psychedelic drug. A group of friends are told that they need a rare battery if they want any chance of reviving their friend. Street style and cybernetics meet and burst into riotous dancing. Kindness and violence might not be as distant from each other as we think. GLEEM unsettles with a confidence that could make you believe in anything.

 

A Maleta Full of Treasures by Natalia Sylvester| Illustrated by Juana Medina | PICTURE BOOK

It's been three years since Abuela's last visit, and Dulce revels in every tiny detail--from Abuela's maletas full of candies in crinkly wrappers and gifts from primos to the sweet, earthy smell of Peru that floats out of Abuela's room and down the hall. But Abuela's visit can't last forever, and all too soon she's packing her suitcases again. Then Dulce has an idea: maybe there are things she can gather for her cousins and send with Abuela to remind them of the U.S. relatives they've never met. And despite having to say goodbye, Abuela has one more surprise for Dulce--something to help her remember that home isn't just a place, but the deep-rooted love they share no matter the distance.

 

Wrath of the Rain God by Karla Arenas Valenti | Illustrated by Vanessa Morales | CHILDREN’S BOOK

Nine-year-old twins, Emma and Martín, couldn't be more different in their personalities, interests, and even their looks. But one thing they absolutely agree on is that moving from Cuernavaca, Mexico, to Illinois is a terrible idea. Unfortunately, they're not given a choice when their dad lands his dream job as a middle school principal in Chicago. To help the twins stay connected to their Mexican heritage, their abuela gifts them a book of Mexican legends. The book turns out to be more than a going away present...it's a magical item that transports them directly into the legends!

In the first legend, Emma and Martín encounter Tlaloc, the god of rain. Tlaloc is angry because his lightning bolt has been stolen, and his rage is manifesting as a torrential downpour over the ancient city of Texcoco. The rain won't stop until the lightning bolt has been returned, so Emma and Martín set out to recover it.

Will they find Tlaloc's bolt in time to help the people of Texcoco save their home? Or will the wrath of the rain god mark the end of this legendary city?

 

This Is Me Trying by Racquel Marie | YOUNG ADULT

Growing up, Bryce, Beatriz, and Santiago were inseparable. But when Santiago moved away before high school, their friendship crumbled. Three years later, Bryce is gone, Beatriz is known as the dead boy's girlfriend, and Santiago is back.

The last thing Beatriz wants is to reunite with Santiago, who left all her messages unanswered while she drowned alone in grief over Bryce's death by suicide. Even if she wasn't angry, Santiago's attempts to make amends are jeopardizing her plan to keep the world at arm's length--equal parts protection and punishment--and she swore to never let anyone try that again.

Santiago is surprised to find the once happy-go-lucky Bea is now the gothic town loner, though he's unsurprised she wants nothing to do with him. But he can't fix what he broke between them while still hiding what led him to cut her off in the first place, and it's harder to run from his past when he isn't states away anymore.

Inevitably drawn back together by circumstance and history, Beatriz and Santiago navigate grief, love, mental illness, forgiveness, and what it means to try to build a future after unfathomable loss.

 

Churro Stand by Karina N. González | Illustrated by Krystal Quiles | PICTURE BOOK

Everybody loves churros!

On a hot summer's day, Lucía and her brother accompany their mother to sell delicious, sugary churros on the bustling streets of New York City. But when a thunderstorm rolls in, and the customers are chased away, Lucía's mother must improvise with a little bit of magic and lots of amor.

 

Is Grad School for Me?: Demystifying the Application Process for First-Gen Bipoc Students by Yvette Martínez-Vu and Miroslava Chavez-Garcia | NONFICTION

Is Grad School for Me? is a calling card and a corrective to the lack of clear guidance for historically excluded students navigating the onerous undertaking of graduate school--starting with asking if grad school is even a good fit. This essential resource offers step-by-step instructions on how to maneuver the admissions process before, during, and after applying.

Unlike other guides, Is Grad School for Me? takes an approach that is both culturally relevant and community based. The book is packed with relatable scenarios, memorable tips, common myths and mistakes, sample essays, and templates to engage a variety of learners. With a strong focus on demystifying higher education and revealing the hidden curriculum, this guide aims to diversify a wide range of professions in academia, nonprofits, government, industry, entrepreneurship, and beyond.

 

Giant on the Shore by Alfonso Ochoa | Illustrated by Azul López | Translated by Shook | PICTURE BOOK

A giant stands on the shore of a secluded city: a place where no trains pass through, where you can hear the sound of birds, and the air smells of bread. What would happen if the giant entered the city? Would the people welcome him? Would they invite him to play in their games? Would they tell him stories and teach him to dance? Would he need lawn mowers to trim his beard and power cables to jump rope? Or would he simply return to the waves?

Featuring poignant, acrylic paintings by award-winning illustrator Azul López, Giant on the Shore is a tale of vulnerability and belonging that explores the enormity of self-doubt and the tremendous potential in taking risks.

 

On Sale April 23

 

Wild Dreamers by Margarita Engle | YOUNG ADULT

Ana and her mother have been living out of their car ever since her militant father became one of the FBI's most wanted. Leandro has struggled with debilitating anxiety since his family fled Cuba on a perilous raft.

One moonlit night, in a wilderness park in California, Ana and Leandro meet. Their connection is instant--a shared radiance that feels both scientific and magical. Then they discover they are not alone: a huge mountain lion stalks through the trees, one of many wild animals whose habitat has been threatened by humans.

Determined to make a difference, Ana and Leandro start a rewilding club at their school, working with scientists to build wildlife crossings that can help mountain lions find one another. If pumas can find their way to a better tomorrow, surely Ana and Leandro can too.

 

Llamando a Mamá by Anya Damirón | Illustrated by César Barceló | PICTURE BOOK

Max cree que puede arreglarlo todo gritando "¡MAMÁÁÁÁ!". Pero pronto descubrirá que él solo también puede solucionar muchas cosas. Max llama a su madre cada vez que quiere algo. O cuando se siente mal. O cuando tiene sueño. O cuando se le cae cualquier cosa al suelo. La llama gritando con todas sus fuerzas "¡MAMÁÁÁÁ!". Su madre vive constantemente asustada, pero un día decide no acudir a su insistente llamada. Para su sorpresa, comprueba que Max es capaz de hacer las cosas él solito.

 

On Sale April 30

 

The Salvisoul Cookbook: Salvadoran Recipes and the Women Who Preserve Them by Karla Tatiana Vasquez | COOKBOOK

In search of the recipes and traditions that made her feel at home, food historian and Salvadoran Karla Tatiana Vasquez took to the internet to find the dishes her mom made throughout her childhood. But when she couldn't find any, she decided to take matters into her own hands. What started as a desire to document recipes turned into sharing the joys, histories, and tribulations of the women in her life.

In this collection of eighty recipes, Karla shares her conversations with moms, aunts, grandmothers, and friends to preserve their histories so that they do not go unheard. Here are recipes for Rellenos de Papa from Patricia, who remembers the Los Angeles earthquakes of the 1980s for more reasons than just fear; Flor de Izote con Huevos Revueltos, a favorite of Karla's father; as well as variations on the beloved Salvadoran Pupusa, a thick masa tortilla stuffed with different combinations of pork, cheese, and beans. Though their stories vary, the women have a shared experience of what it was like in El Salvador before the war, and what life was like as Salvadoran women surviving in their new home in the United States.

 

The Best Worst Camp Out Ever by Joe Cepeda | COMIC BOOK

A boy and his father go on a camping trip! Despite one disaster after another, in the end, father and son agree it was their best weekend ever!

Simple text and comic-book style illustrations support comprehension in this delightful book, ideal for first graders.

 

My Mexican Mesa, Y Listo!: Beautiful Flavors, Family Style by Jenny Martinez | COOKBOOK

When Mexican TikTok and Instagram star Jenny Martinez ends her videos by saying "y listo and enjoy" and takes a bite of her finished dish, you almost feel like you can taste the delicious food with her. Well, now you can! My Mexican Mesa, Y Listo! is here to provide family-style recipes for every occasion, beautifully photographed to capture the authentic spirit of the cuisine.

Jenny may have moved from Mexico to the United States as a child, but her recipes are passed down through generations. She fondly recalls the smell of her mother's birria (Mexican beef stew) all through the house, and it's no surprise that birria is the recipe that first helped Jenny go viral on TikTok, achieving over a million views in the first day alone. Now fans can't get enough of Jenny's recipes, all presented in the warm and inviting manner for which she's best known. Jenny considers a well-fed family to be the key to a happy family. As she says, every dinner should be celebrated, and food brings people together.

 

Benny Ramírez and the Nearly Departed by José Pablo Iriarte | MIDDLE GRADE

After moving cross-country into his late grandfather's Miami mansion, Benny discovers that the ghost of his famous trumpet-playing abuelo, the great Ignacio Ramírez, is still there . . . and isn't too thrilled about it. He's been barred from the afterlife, and no one can see him except his grandson. But Benny's got problems of his own. He's enrolled in a performing arts school with his siblings, despite having no obvious talent.


Luckily, Abuelo believes they can help each other. Abuelo has until New Year's Eve to do some good in the world and thinks that teaching Benny how to play the trumpet and become a school celebrity might be the key to earning his wings. Having no better ideas, Benny finds himself taking Abuelo's advice--to disastrous and hilarious results.
Benny and Abuelo will find that there's more than one way to be great in this unforgettable, laugh-out-loud tale of family, music, and self-discovery.

 

The Way That Leads Among the Lost: Life, Death, and Hope in Mexico City's Anexos by Angela Garcia | NONFICTION

he Way That Leads Among the Lost reveals a hidden place where care and violence are impossible to separate: the anexos of Mexico City. The prizewinning anthropologist Angela Garcia takes us deep into the world of these small rooms, informal treatment centers for alcoholism, addiction, and mental illness, spread across Mexico City's tenements and reaching into the United States. Run and inhabited by Mexico's most marginalized populations, they are controversial for their illegality and their use of coercion. Yet for many Mexican families desperate to keep their loved ones safe, these rooms offer something of a refuge from what lies beyond them--the intensifying violence surrounding the drug war.

This is the first book ever written on the anexos. Garcia, who spent a decade conducting anthropological fieldwork in Mexico City, draws readers into their many dimensions, casting light on the mothers and their children who are entangled in this hidden world. Following the stories of its denizens, she asks what these places are, why they exist, and what they reflect about Mexico and the wider world. With extraordinary empathy and a sharp eye for detail, Garcia attends to the lives that the anexos both sustain and erode, wrestling with the question of why mothers turn to them as a site of refuge even as they reproduce violence. Woven into these portraits is Garcia's own powerful story of family, childhood, homelessness, and drugs--a blend of ethnography and memoir converging on a set of fundamental questions about the many forms and meanings that violence, love, care, family, and hope may take.

 

What Comes Back by Javier Peñalosa | Translated by Robin Myers | POETRY

Javier Peñalosa M.'s What Comes Back is a procession, a journey, a search for a body of water that has disappeared or gone elsewhere. Featured in separate sections, original Spanish poems and Robin Myers' English translations highlight tender ruminations on loss, memory, and communion. Just as landscapes witness and "preserve what happens along the length of them," so do people. We watch as travelers navigate realms between the living and the dead, past mountains and dried up rivers to map, trace, and remember the past and future. Several sections, each bearing the title "What Comes Back," guide readers on a looping voyage where they are "orbited around the gravity of what had come to be"--the absence of Mexico City's rivers, and other absences wrought by war, climate change, and forced migration. Rattled between ecological destruction and human violence, What Comes Back, what remains, is a desire to name the missing, to render belonging out of dispossession, endurance out of erasure--the spiritual urge toward connection and community.

 

Exclusive Excerpt from Jamie Figueroa’s Mother Island: A Daughter Claims Puerto Rico

Latinx in Publishing is pleased to share an exclusive excerpt from Jamie Figueroa’s forthcoming memoir Mother Island: A Daughter Claims Puerto Rico publishing March 19th from Pantheon Books. Read on for a glimpse of this highly anticipated book!

In my late twenties, during my saturn return—when, according to astrology, the transition into adulthood is fully realized—I moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico, a place I’d been regularly visiting for nearly eight years. I rented a room in the home of an elderly woman, a divorcée from Texas. Her eastside condo faced north. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased Mount Baldy at an intimate distance, relaxed in its pose. I beheld it every day and imagined it beholding me as well. It was a kind of worship, meditation, communion.

I found work at an internationally renowned spa where a hierarchy of massage therapists crowded the schedule months in advance, leaving hours available only by subbing shifts. As I waited for bookings, I slow-walked; I stood; I stared at the mountain, the hills, the sky, and the vast distances where other mountains and mesas seemed temporarily paused in their own great ongoing transformation. I used this as tangible evidence of beauty, of stability, of possibility.

There was no money for such a relocation. I’d borrowed what I could. My credit cards were maxed out after a recent divorce, and I had no savings, so I stayed to the trails, to the generosity, acceptance, and inclusion of Mother Earth/Mother Nature.

Mountains, mesas, piñons, ponderosa pines, pine, juniper, cedar, chamisa, cholla, prickly pear, sage. Whispers of water called river. The way that water whispers. Female rain. Coyotes, bears, snakes, wild cats, wild horses. Sky. All of this and more rearranged my reality. It was an external and an internal experience. Because of this, I could soften and strengthen simultaneously. A teaching from the mountain, as if it were an eternal mother.

These shared, free, public lands evoked a similar sensation to the one I cultivated in my notebook. I was disoriented and overcome with vulnerability. Everything I did and said seemed awkward to me. I was unfamiliar to myself in this new home.

I held to my pen, translated my details into language. Maps of Puerto Rico, Ohio, and New Mexico were taped to my bedroom wall. After printing them, I traced each border with my fingers, tried to understand how these shapes had shaped me. My triptych of un/belonging. Puerto Rico, the Island of Enchantment. New Mexico, the Land of Enchantment. And there in between, Ohio, where I had grown up—its state border resembling a crude heart, a bridge that I spent my younger years crossing.

If only I could get my coordinates right. I wished locating myself were as easy as looking at these maps.

As I shed my experience as a tourist and transformed into a resident, I considered how to introduce myself—what stories I wanted to share and how I would present them. Most other transplants assumed I was Nuyorican. (I did not confess that I’d been to New York City only once, for a few hours as a child, while visiting my tío’s family in a New Jersey suburb. The lively alleyways, yellow taxicabs, mounds of trash, and buildings rising endlessly above me as if into and beyond the sky were my singular tangible and daunting memory.) Santa Fe locals spoke to me first in Spanish.

New Mexico was not Ohio, obviously and thankfully. Neck tattoos of brown power were not uncommon, most public places were bilingual, checkout ladies at the grocery store and in government offices called me “mi’ja,” the closest I’d ever come to my mother’s “mi’jita.” No one asked me what I was. Occasionally, I was asked where I or my people were from, not as an interrogation, or to single out and exclude, but as an invitation, to welcome and include.

The white body supremacy of the Midwest, polite but persistent racism, and the confines of small-town culture dissolved. There was more room to explore my own identity. To coax out what I had banished to the corners for fear of being unsafe. This is how it was for me, a mixed-race woman of color, who had tried to mimic whiteness as my mother had. I constantly had to wave my white flag of surrender at what and who oppressed me, as if to say, Please, have mercy. I will not be a threat to you.

Liberated from Ohio, and the conditioning of my submissive youth, I set out to try to understand and claim what colonization had stolen from my family, from me, what it continued to steal. If I was not hiding, who was I? If I was not adapting to what was acceptable to those who couldn’t even truly see me to begin with, who could I become? When you pull out the weeds of colonization, how do you tend to what’s always been there, growing, albeit concealed?

These were the questions that continued to remake and reshape me. After a fifteen-year break from academia, I finished my education at a tribal college, the Institute of American Indian Arts. That is where these questions were seeded, germinated, and took root. I also “returned” forthe first time to my family’s homeland, the island of Puerto Rico. Called Borikén by the original people, the Taíno, who are my ancestors.

***

In my memory, it was exactly like this:

My mother and my two older sisters lie on a nubbly yellow felt blanket in the grass. The top edge is lined in unraveling satin. Kneeling behind my mother, I study her and my teenage sisters. Their arms and legs are longer than anything I have yet to experience—potential and self-possession outstretched—and browning darker by the moment.

I hold a small lined notebook in my left hand. The pencil I use is dull; the soft, blunt lead digs into the spaces between the blue lines. On this first page, I am careful to make the stems of the h’s and d’s tall. Careful to hook the g in the right direction. I can write a handful of two- and three-letter words. The spiral on the side of the notebook glints, catching the sun as the wire coil shifts in response to the pressure of my writing. Creativity moves naturally from the center of my being down my right arm and through my hand with each carefully crafted letter. At six years old, I compose my first poem.

Uninterrupted by trees, the backyard is vast. It rolls into one neighbor’s lawn and then another as far as can be seen. Tufts of dandelions in full bloom, and in post-blossom puff, constellate the grass. Prince plays from a small speaker lodged in one of the upstairs windows. We shriek and call out with our passionate imitations as he cries, “Purple rain.” The back of the split-level seems to turn away from us, more interested in the road and who might be passing by than in our emotional outburst. Awaiting its master, our mother’s new husband, as if some obedient pet. We have similarly adapted and learned to wait for commands in his presence.

It is early spring. The prior autumn, my mother, my sisters, and I had packed the contents of our government housing—a subsidized duplex—into large black trash bags and piled them into the family car, a two-door maroon Buick. We drove a few towns south from our neighborhood of Black and brown mothers and children adorned with beaded hair to move in with our mother’s new husband, whose home had too many empty rooms, since his own children were adults. Before this, all four of us had slept in one bed each night. My earliest memory of sleeping and dreaming was of being lodged between the bodies of a pair of older sisters, only sixteen months apart, and our mother. After we moved, I didn’t have the capacity to express the longing I felt for that bed, for the exclusive unit we were, a family of the feminine. A womb of our own containment and authority, safe. To be with this man in his house, each of us in our own room, my mother the farthest away she’d ever been, was a betrayal of what I had come to know and trust.

As daughters, we were no longer privileged. As the youngest, I was no longer preferred. There was a man now, a white man, with a white and silver tinseled beard and white T-shirts with tinted stains beneath his arms, and white cigarettes with endless plumes of white smoke snaking around him at the head of the table as he regaled us with endless stories from his shift at the Goodyear plant after every dinner.

He rearranged our hierarchy. My mother submitted. In my limited understanding, I was confused about how this had happened. I wanted it undone. But in the grass that day, on the blanket with my real family, each one of them stretched out, singing, laughing, radiating the comfort of the familiar, I was compelled to summon the sparse language that I possessed to capture what I belonged to and what belonged to me. Grass, flowers, trees, sun, laughter. Nearly all the words misspelled. A list more than a poem, as if art were an act of inventory, an exercise of naming. No matter. It was my moment: my mother, my sisters, my pencil, my paper. A celebration.

This was before we ran, never to return. Before the next man came along—one husband after another and all the boyfriends in between, traversing our lives, rearranging us as they came and went, scrambling the cohesion of our feminine collective.

***

How long did the pastor and his family take us in for when we left—was it a week, a month? I don’t remember how many times we moved. Canal Fulton, Bellefontaine, Plain City, Marysville. Mount Vernon, Delaware, East Liberty. And then there were the counties: Union, Morrow, Knox, Logan, Licking, Hocking. Thirty miles in all directions radiating from the intersection of Main and Maple. The fields sliced by long lines of unused, nameless railroad tracks. On two-lane county roads, clapboard houses leaned from their foundations as if preparing to pick up, at long last, and begin their migration, as if they were never from here either. In between the houses and pole barns, men’s briefs, socks, and undershirts—all white—and denim jeans of all sizes hung on clotheslines, stiff with the memory of their owner’s thighs and knees in the winter air. In these lands, the only darkness came with the skin of night. Rural Ohio. We would cross another county line to another Main Street, where semitrucks had worn grooves in the asphalt; where the drive-through liquor store was not far from the collection of churches; and, of course, where there were more fields—feed corn, soybeans—and cows in various group formations, as if painted boulders, the most uninterested of us all.

I don’t remember where I thought I was going when, at six years old, shortly before we ran, I put a pack of bubble gum, a photo of my mother, my nightgown, and two pairs of underwear into a brown paper sack and stomped out the front door. Perhaps I thought that I could find what I no longer had, that by leaving I could somehow go back to the place where I was still included in my own family—unquestioned belonging.

I did not manage to pull off my escape. My sisters ran after me, dragging me back to the house. Laughing and crying at my ridiculous choice of what to pack, at my courage and desperation. At our desperation. I would learn in the coming years to go missing in other ways.

I don’t remember the look on my mother’s face later that night when she returned from work, hours on her feet cutting hair, and they told her. Surely it was a terrible mix of hurt and other emotions too numerous to track, let alone name. The hurt that had been unleashed on her. The hurt she unleashed on me. The hurt I learned to return.

I don’t remember how many years I used that same kind of brown paper sack as a book bag. I don’t remember how many times I was asked, “What are you?” How many classroom windows I stared out of as if held hostage by a room full of people who did not look like me, aching for some semblance of the familiar, for something nourishing, to be claimed. The weapon of education was wielded, a highly edited history unquestioned, purposefully excluding me while demanding my subservience in return. Another kind of assault, of trauma, that of being invisible, of being silenced, of being rewarded/punished for loyalty or lack thereof to the sameness I was drowning in—soundlikelookliketalklikethinklikeactlike.





Used with permission from Pantheon Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright (c) Jamie Figueroa, 2024.






Jamie Figueroa is the author of the critically acclaimed novel Brother, Sister, Mother, Explorer (Catapult 2021), which was short-listed for the Reading the West Book Award and long-listed for the Center for Fiction First Novel Prize, was an Indie Next pick, a Good Morning America must-read book of the month, and was named a most anticipated debut of the year by Bustle, Electric Literature, The Millions, and Rumpus. A member of the faculty in the MFA Creative Writing program at the Institute of American Indian Arts, Figueroa has published writing in American Short Fiction, Emergence Magazine, Elle, McSweeney’s, Agni, The New York Times, and the Boston Review, among other publications. A Voices of Our Nations Arts Foundation (VONA) alum, she received a Truman Capote Award and was a Bread Loaf Rona Jaffe Scholar. Boricua (Afro-Taíno) by way of Ohio, Figueroa is a longtime resident of northern New Mexico.

Most Anticipated March 2024 Releases

March has so many amazing books coming out this month. Take a look at some of our most anticipated list to add to your TBR!

 

Anita de Monte Laughs Last by Xochitl Gonzalez |On Sale March 5

1985. Anita de Monte, a rising star in the art world, is found dead in New York City; her tragic death is the talk of the town. Until it isn't. By 1998 Anita's name has been all but forgotten--certainly by the time Raquel, a third-year art history student is preparing her final thesis. On College Hill, surrounded by privileged students whose futures are already paved out for them, Raquel feels like an outsider. Students of color, like her, are the minority there, and the pressure to work twice as hard for the same opportunities is no secret.

But when Raquel becomes romantically involved with a well-connected older art student, she finds herself unexpectedly rising up the social ranks. As she attempts to straddle both worlds, she stumbles upon Anita's story, raising questions about the dynamics of her own relationship, which eerily mirrors that of the forgotten artist.

 

The Great Divide by Cristina Henriquez |On Sale March 5

It is said that the canal will be the greatest feat of engineering in history. But first, it must be built. For Francisco, a local fisherman who resents the foreign powers clamoring for a slice of his country, nothing is more upsetting than the decision of his son, Omar, to work as a digger in the excavation zone. But for Omar, whose upbringing was quiet and lonely, this job offers a chance to finally find connection.

Ada Bunting is a bold sixteen-year-old from Barbados who arrives in Panama as a stowaway alongside thousands of other West Indians seeking work. Alone and with no resources, she is determined to find a job that will earn enough money for her ailing sister's surgery. When she sees a young man--Omar--who has collapsed after a grueling shift, she is the only one who rushes to his aid.

 

Through the Night Like a Snake by Mónica Ojeda, Tomás Downey, Camila Sosa Villada, Julián Isaza, Maximiliano Barrentos, Mariana Enriquez, Lina Munar Guevara, Antonio Diza Oliva| Edited by Sarah Coolige| On Sale March 12

A boy explores the abandoned house of a dead fascist...
A leaked sex tape pushes a woman to the brink...
A sex worker discovers a dark secret among the nuns of the pampas...
The mountain fog is not what it seems...
Kermit the Frog dreams of murder...

In ten chilling stories from an ensemble cast of contemporary Latin American writers, including Mariana Enriquez (tr. Megan McDowell), Camila Sosa Villlada (tr. Kit Maude), Claudia Hernández (tr. by Julia Sanches and Johanna Warren) and Mónica Ojeda (tr. Sarah Booker and Noelle de la Paz), horror infiltrates the unexpected, taboo regions of the present-day psyche.

 

Mother Island: A Daughter Claims Puerto Rico by Jamie Figueroa|On Sale March 19

Growing up in the Midwest, raised by a Puerto Rican mother who was abandoned by her family, Jamie Figueroa and her sisters were estranged from their culture, consumed by the whiteness that surrounded them. In Mother Island, Figueroa traces her search for identity as shaped by and against a mother who settled into the safety of assimilation. In lyrical, blistering prose, Figueroa recalls a childhood in Ohio in which she was relegated to the background of her mother's string of failed marriages; her own marriage in her early twenties to a man twice her age; how her work as a licensed massage therapist helped her heal her body trauma; and how becoming a mother has reshaped her relationship to her family and herself. Only as an adult in New Mexico was Figueroa able to forge her own path, using writing to recast her origin story. In a journey that takes her to Puerto Rico and back, Figueroa looks to her ancestors to reimagine her relationship to the past and to her mother's native island, reaching beyond her own mother into a greater experience of mothering and claiming herself.