Q&A

Author Q&A: 'The Beautiful Game' by Yamile Saied Méndez

Yamile Saied Méndez thrusts readers into action from the very start of her forthcoming middle grade novel, The Beautiful Game. Valeria “Magic” Salomón – star player of the Overlords – is playing in a State Cup game. 

And the 13-year-old is determined to win. So Valeria decides to sidestep a play her coach (and Argentine grandfather) planned and try things her way. “I stomped my foot, pulverizing Coach’s order under the spikes of my pink cleats.”

One of Valeria’s teammates whispers, “You got it, Magic.” 

She nods. The same teammate moves out of the way at the last minute for her to take the shot. And Valeria does. GOOOOALLLLL!!!!!!!

“I ran and ran and ran, fighting the impulse to take my jersey off and swing it in the air like the boys did,” she narrates. “The ref would card me if I showed my sports bra, even if it was mainly for decoration right now.”

Valeria is the only girl on her all-boys team, which isn’t really an issue until something happens to her later at the State Cup semifinal. She gets her first period, during that game. The following day, Valeria overhears her grandfather-coach and members of her team discussing moving forward without her. If she stays, the Overlords wouldn’t be able to play in a tournament. Girl players have their own tournament.

The news shakes Valeria to her core, and angers her. She soon finds herself without a team, and at increasing odds with her grandfather. Her home is also struggling with a recent death in the family. 

But with the support of her grandmother and best friend, Valeria rises up and decides to try to join a team she’s long ignored: an all-girls team known as The Amazons. Can Valeria find her place on her new team and learn to play like a girl?

For Méndez – author of the Pura Belpré Award-winning FuriaThe Beautiful Game is a heartfelt novel that interweaves many themes of family, perseverance, and second chances.

Writers Mentorship Program mentee Amaris Castillo sat down with Méndez, her 2023 middle grade mentor, to discuss The Beautiful Game – out now from Algonquin Young Readers.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo (AC): Congratulations on The Beautiful Game. I know you’re a lifelong lover of fútbol. What inspired you to write this story?

Yamile Saied Méndez (YSM): It was a very long and winded way to The Beautiful Game. When I was starting to learn how to become a writer, I took an SCBWI intensive with a very famous editor who had edited some of my favorite books. For an in-class assignment I had the image of this girl who was swinging a baseball bat. But she wasn’t a baseball player. I knew that. She was swinging the bat, and she just had this attitude. I remember sharing that piece of writing during that class, and everybody liked it very much. Nothing came of it. 

But the following summer, I was already doing my master’s and I was in the first group that went to a residency in Bath, England. It was also a generative workshop, so I had been excited that I didn’t have to plan anything beforehand. But I knew we were going to have to be writing on the spot. And I remembered this girl with a bat. 

The teachers were Martine Leavitt and Tim Wynne-Jones, who were incredible and gave us guidelines for something on the spot. And I remembered this character, and I had Valeria swinging the bat at a birthday party, to bust the piñata. Her character was just fully formed. I remember during the week of the workshop, we had to expand that scene. And Martine and Tim were telling us we had to put our character in the worst situation we could imagine. And I knew Valeria was an athlete, and so what is the worst thing that could happen to her? And then one thought went to the other, and I’m like, Oh, if she’s playing in an all-boy team, the worst thing could be for her to get her period in the middle of the game. The story just unfolded from that. The Beautiful Game was my creative thesis for my master’s. So during the semester, I worked under Jane Kurtz, who was my advisor. She was so in love with the character that it made me excited every month to submit more pages to her. And that’s how I wrote the whole first draft that year.

AC: Your main character, Valeria “Magic” Salomón, is the star of the Overlords, the top boys’ team in Utah. There’s a reason she’s called Magic. You begin the book by placing her in a boys’ team, which can bring interesting dynamics. What made you want to do that?

YSM: I’m very involved in children’s sports. All my children have played – boys and girls. Up until the teenage years, it’s not uncommon to see co-ed teams. As children get older, you see fewer and fewer girls. My son is 12 and, in his very last game last year, there was a girl on the rival team. So up until that age, you will still see a girl or two. It never is a problem until the teenage years when, if there is not a girls team available, they have to quit. That’s what happens in a lot of small schools or small towns that don’t have girls sports available. If they’re lucky, they can switch to an all-girl team. But then there are other complications, where some of the other girl teams have been playing together for a few years already, and then the newcomer has to make her place and earn her spot. That’s what happens to Valeria. So my inspiration was real life, and things that I see two or three times a week on the soccer pitch.

AC: Valeria’s abuelo is her coach. He’s raising Magic with his wife – Valeria’s abuela, Lita. Abuelo is super rough around the edges. The relationship between Magic and her grandfather can be difficult at times. What was it like depicting this kind of relationship on the page?

YSM: It was fun [Laughs]. I loved it. They are the same person. They’re both stubborn and opinionated, but they love each other so much. It’s just that they show love in different ways. 

The grandpa is an old-style coach. Many readers, or older readers, will recognize this character because that tough love from coaches wasn’t uncommon. Even during the Olympics, there was this huge talk about how the gymnastics program in the U.S. used to be super strict. Yes, they won a lot of medals, but to the detriment of the mental health of the girls. Now that the style of coaching has changed, we still have beautiful results with the cherry on top of having Olympic gold medalists who have good mental health. 

I wanted to show how her grandpa was one of the remnants of that old style of coaching, and how other generations would have taken it. But not Valeria, who is Gen Alpha. She’s not going to put up with her grandpa’s behavior, so she’s going to talk back. I saw some criticism about that, and I’m happy that it created some conversation on how young people are not going to put up with the treatment that older generations put up with.

AC: During the State Cup semifinal, Valeria gets her period for the first time. It is a big moment, literally on the field. This is not the first time you’ve written about periods. Can you talk about what it was like to set up this pivotal scene in the book? Because Valeria’s period also sets off a sequence of events.

YSM: There are some clues of what’s going to happen beforehand, and I’m hoping my readers – who will hopefully be a little more savvy – will catch the clues that everybody can get except for Valeria. Because she is in denial that she’s going to get her period. Some people in earlier reviews were like, Oh, it was a little dramatic. How could she not know? But this was very intentional. I wanted to show that Valeria was just not paying attention to her body, not paying attention to the clues. Of course the period caught her by surprise, but because she hadn’t been in touch with herself and aware of what was happening… 

I also wanted to put a little bit of emphasis on how the first period experience doesn’t have to be dramatic, or traumatic. The experience is way better when there is information, when children know what a period is all about. Because when we have knowledge, we have the power. Even if we cannot stop it, we can control the situation… I wanted to show how having knowledge is a way for young people to have power over their experience. It doesn’t have to be horrible. It doesn’t have to be super terrible.

AC: In your book there’s also a theme about a kind of estrangement between a daughter and her father. Valeria’s dad is a bit absent from her life. As a reader, it was heartbreaking to read from Valeria’s perspective. What message were you hoping to send by including this in The Beautiful Game?

YSM: I wanted to show how different families can be, because Valeria is being raised by her grandparents. Her biological dad was a teenage dad and he is part of her life, but he’s still learning how to be a dad. But he lives out of state, so it’s complicated. And although Valeria has this very sometimes even toxic relationship with her grandpa, he is the present father in her life. 

I wanted to show that families are complicated, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t love. And as long as there’s love and there’s a desire by all parties to form a relationship, that’s a good start. It doesn’t mean that all has to happen at once.

The experience is way better when there is information, when children know what a period is all about. Because when we have knowledge, we have the power. Even if we cannot stop it, we can control the situation… I wanted to show how having knowledge is a way for young people to have power over their experience.

AC: I want to talk about Valeria joining a girls’ team. Her love of the game thrusts her into this completely new environment, where she’s one of many girls – and not the only girl. What were you intentional about in piecing together Valeria’s experience on a girls’ team? Were there aspects of being on a girls’ team that you wanted to show?

YSM: I wanted to show that camaraderie and that funniness and all the emotions that exist in a girls team. Boys are emotional. I have seen this in my own kids’ teams. But they hold their emotions together, like their tears. Girls laugh and cry when they miss a goal, and they cry when they score, and they’re happy. It’s so beautiful to see them show the full spectrum of emotions, and I wanted to show that. I wanted to give Valeria the space to be able to show her emotions. 

In the boy’s team, she’s the best player. And it’s not because she is the girl, or in detriment of being a girl; she’s just the most talented player in that team. When she goes to the girls team, she sees and admires the other girls who play as well. I wanted her to be a little bit insecure, not because of her gender, again, but because of her skills. I wanted her to learn how to play in a team – not to be the individual star. To learn that soccer is a team sport, after all. And so I wanted to show that sometimes girls are pitted against each other. They compete for everything in the world. I feel like society also pits girls and women against each other, and I wanted my character to learn that she’s stronger not when she’s competing with her peers, but when she is collaborating with them. When she is part of the team. So I hope that shows.

AC: It does. What are you hoping readers take away from The Beautiful Game?

YSM: I hope that they have space to talk about uncomfortable topics, like getting your period, growing up, and the other things that come along with growing up. It’s all (about) the social drama. It’s how we change as human beings. 

I hope that, when they close the book, they have the feeling that playing a sport is fun. That’s the main reason human beings play sports: because it’s fun. That’s why I watch them, because I have fun. They give people the opportunity to stretch themselves and achieve things that seem impossible. I think that’s something that we saw at the Olympics, how the world loves to come together to cheer for people who are achieving their dreams. 

And I also hope that they are inspired. Again, it sounds like a cliche and maybe a little cheesy, but I hope that when they close the book, they’re inspired to go and fight for their own dreams… At the end of the day, The Beautiful Game is life itself, more than the sport. And I hope that they’re just excited to live their lives.


Yamile Saied Méndez is the author of many books for young readers and adults, including Furia, a Reese’s YA Book Club selection and the 2021 Inaugural Pura Belpré Young Adult Gold Medalist, Where Are You From?, Shaking Up the House, and the Horse Country series, among others. She was born and raised in Rosario, Argentina, but has lived most of her life in a lovely valley surrounded by mountains in Utah. She’s a graduate of Voices of Our Nations (VONA) and the Vermont College of Fine Arts MFA Writing for Children and Young Adults program, and a founding member of Las Musas, a marketing collective of Latine writers. Connect with her at yamilesmendez.com or on Instagram @yamilesmendez.

 

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.

Author Q&A: ‘Abuelo's Flower Shop’ by Jackie Morera

In Abuelo’s Flower Shop, a young girl named Elena is holding a bunch of yellow tulips. She shouts to her grandfather that she’s almost done gathering flowers.

It’s Elena’s first day working with Abuelo in his shop. A short time later, a woman in a black dress approaches them. She looks sad and is dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

“Is she okay?” Elena asks after the woman leaves. Abuelo insists that she is. He tells Elena not to worry.

As the day continues, Elena meets more customers. And with each customer, she senses a heaviness she doesn’t quite understand.

Finally, Abuelo explains that they are headed to the garden across the way. It’s a sad place, but special because it’s where people visit their loved ones who have died.

Abuelo’s Flower Shop by debut author Jackie Morera is a tender and sensitive lesson on how to support those who are grieving. Morera’s gentle hand guides young readers through Elena’s journey to learning about the cemetery nearby. The illustrations by Deise Lino add an extra layer of warmth and inclusion to this story.

Morera drew from her own life to tell this fictitious tale that also celebrates intergenerational love. She recalled her grandparents selling flowers from their home in Miami. “They were street vendors, and they would sell flowers to any passerby,” she said. “They lived catty-corner from one of the bigger cemeteries down in Miami.”

Out on June 4 from Beaming Books, Abuelo’s Flower Shop is Morera’s quest to answer what it would look like if a child realizes that there’s something more to this garden across the way. This story is a softhearted lesson about grief.

Ahead of the book’s release, Morera spoke with Latinx in Publishing about the inspiration behind Abuelo’s Flower Shop, what she learned about grief while writing this story, and more.

Amaris Castillo (AC): What inspired you to write this story?

Jackie Morera (JM): I wanted to write picture books as a creative adventure because I was writing longer form and wanted to try something different. I was dredging up these ideas and these moments from the past to tell the story, so it’s loosely based on my own experience (of) growing up in Miami and visiting my abuelos who would sell flowers from buckets in front of their house. They were street vendors, and they would sell flowers to any passerby. They lived catty-corner from one of the bigger cemeteries down in Miami. 

The conversation between Elena and her abuelo – all of that is fiction. But the story, the place, and what could happen between a young child and their grown-up in those moments is what inspired this story of realizing when you’re young (that) there’s a reason why at least most of these people who are stopping by might be buying these flowers – and what that space across the street represents. And what that might look like when a child is inquisitive, or maybe isn’t inquisitive, and recognizes through various moments that there’s something more going on here and what the grown-up in that relationship might do. That’s what inspired this story: a little bit of real life, and then a little bit of speculation of what that conversation would play out as.

AC: In your book, Elena at first doesn't understand that the people who come to her abuelo's flower shop are grieving. How did you approach this lesson on how to support those who are grieving in order for it to be digestible to young readers?

JM: When I first wrote it, I wanted it to be a snapshot of a moment that could happen. Initially it wasn’t a book to help people understand what grief could look like. That wasn’t the motivation for putting the story together. It ends up feeling more that way, and I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful to have that story out there for children, and for caregivers who are looking to help children through those. But for me, I really wanted it to be an inquisitive child who is excited to be supporting or just being with her grandfather, and realizing a little bit more about what is happening around her. And then that led to a conversation about empathy and understanding how other people might be feeling and why.

(I also wanted it to touch on) the complicated relationship between young children and their caregivers or the grown-ups in their lives. In my experience, in the Latino community, the men are often head of household and maintain a lot of the more adult topics and the things that they try to keep children safe from understanding. So it was a little bit of all of these things. 

Initially it wasn’t a book to help people understand what grief could look like. That wasn’t the motivation for putting the story together. It ends up feeling more that way, and I’m grateful for that.

AC: Some adults try to protect the young people in their lives from harsh realities or sadness, which can be futile. In your book, these themes literally arrive at Abuelo's flower room. I notice, though, that Elena isn't aware at first what that garden across the road really is. Why did you choose to have Abuelo initially keep that fact from her?

JM: In my experience growing up in a Latino community, children are very protected. I think there’s a nice difference here from what I experienced growing up with a lot of the grown-ups in my life, to what I would love for children to experience with grown-ups in their life – which is more of a softness, sensitivity, and an openness to having these conversations. But that’s where it started. 

Obviously, we’re not a monolith. Not every community is this way, especially when it comes to grief. But the grown-ups and specifically the men like to protect the children as much as possible with these difficult topics, and keep them away from grief and loss and all of this. Elena is so excited to help her abuelo and be with him out there. This is a beautiful place with flowers and people, and there’s a garden across the street. She’s so little, so she doesn’t need to know these things. And I think sometimes adults wait until the very last minute to say something, to make something clear. In this instance, Elena is not experiencing grief herself. So it’s (about) recognizing the grief in other people. 

Even now, as a parent, you never know when is the right time to share something with your child. I think abuelo is doing a little bit of that: he’s trying to maintain her knowledge of what is happening until it is really in front of her – until the customers really start to approach and she’s realizing. As a grown-up he’s kind of struggling with that, from when to make that clear.

AC: While writing this book, did you learn anything new about grief?

JM: I think there’s been changes over the past couple of years in general with how open we should be or recommended to be with children, and how explicit we should be in our language. 

If I had written this story 10 years ago before having children, before working with children, before that educational awareness, maybe the language would have been a little bit softer. And now it says ‘people who died’ in the text because that’s something that is helpful for children anywhere, to have that very literal language of, this is what happens, and this is a way that you can keep the memories of that person alive. Whether that’s you as someone who has experienced loss and death, or you as someone who is helping somebody through that difficult time. That’s definitely something; how direct we have to be with our language with children. I feel like that’s a pretty big change. 

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from Abuelo’s Flower Shop?

JM: I hope that readers walk away feeling more able to be curious. Because I think that’s something that I love about Elena. She’s asking these questions out loud, and that leads her to understanding what is happening. And if she didn’t ask, she might have come to her own conclusions – and maybe those wouldn’t have been the correct conclusions, or she wouldn’t have realized and had this opportunity to learn what’s going on. 

I think recognizing that it’s OK to ask questions in uncomfortable moments helps you to be a more empathetic person. There are ways that you can help people who are going through difficult moments, even in small ways (like) helping them pick a flower or helping them remember their loved one… So that curiosity and that sense of, it’s OK to ask questions. And there are people around me who can help me better understand what’s happening.


Jackie Morera is an author of books for young readers of all ages. Born and raised in Miami, Jackie now lives in Central Florida with her husband, son, and goofy pup. She enjoys telling stories, savoring pastelitos, and cozying up for a good nap.




 


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.

Review and Author Q&A: The Dream Catcher by Marcelo Verdad

In The Dream Catcher by author-illustrator Marcelo Verdad, a young boy is awakened by his grandfather who lets him know it’s time for work. Soon they will head out for the day to sell cold coconuts and macrame dream catchers along México’s Oaxaca coast.

“Look how many coins I have already, Abuelito,” Miguelito says, holding up a jar of coins to his white-haired abuelo. “Do you think this is enough to buy an airplane?”

His grandpa tells him they’re getting closer.

At home, Miguelito has been hard at work on his dream catchers. His mom taught him how to weave them. The knotted textile creations make him feel close to his parents, he confesses to his abuelo.

 The Dream Catcher (out on May 14 from Little, Brown Books for Young Readers) is a poignant story about a boy with a big dream: to make enough money to buy an airplane someday so he could reunite with his parents. Miguelito’s story is rooted in a photo Verdad saw years ago of a young boy selling dream catchers on a beach. The image stayed with him. “In a sense, I wanted to honor all of our kids living under unfavorable circumstances and create a space for them to feel seen,” said Verdad, who was born and raised in México and now resides in Los Angeles.

In his tender picture book, Verdad brings readers into the direct and deep conversations between Miguelito and his grandfather as they work, daring his audience to question what a dream means to them. At one point, the young boy peers up at his grandfather and asks if dreams come true. 

With themes of poverty and class, readers of The Dream Catcher may feel compelled to pause and reflect on the stark differences in the dreams held by people from different circumstances. This is done very effectively through Verdad’s text and illustrations, the latter of which include people of even lesser means than his young protagonist. Even with the heaviness that comes with realizing that not all dreams happen for everyone, there’s a ray of hope that emanates from Miguelito and Abuelito’s story.

Ahead of The Dream Catcher’s release, Verdad spoke with Latinx in Publishing about the inspiration behind his book, dreams, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.


Amaris Castillo (AC): What inspired you to write this book?

Marcelo Verdad (MV): Years ago, I found this picture of a young kid selling his dream catchers on the beach, and that image just got stuck in my head. I felt the urge to draw it myself. And as soon as I finished the piece, I knew that this kid had a story to tell. It took me some years, but eventually I was able to listen to him and to write the story that he wanted to tell.

 AC: In your book, Miguelito has big dreams to sell enough art to buy an airplane and reunite his family. It is both beautiful yet heartbreaking to read this. How did you decide on this dream for him?

MV: I’m an art teacher, and I work with kids – which I love. What I value the most about being close to my kids is learning from their innocence and their imagination. They really help me reconnect with my inner child, and remember my own innocence and imagination. In this case, Miguelito’s wish needed to represent that innocence and imagination that I find so pure in kids, and that I love. 

Another key aspect about Miguelito was his background. I’m born and raised in México, and that’s exactly how I feel a lot of times when I think of my country. It’s beyond gorgeous. It’s so rich and so beautiful, but yet heartbreaking at times. But also life itself, in that it can be both beautiful yet heartbreaking. And that’s the story that I wanted to tell this time, about life on Earth. I’m not very into fairy tale happy endings, but I wanted to do something honest and full of life and heart.

AC: The entire book consists of direct quotes – conversations between Miguelito and his Abuelito. You don’t see that often in picture books. Why did you structure the story in this way?

MV: I’m both an author and illustrator, but I went to college to study art and design so I’m naturally more of a visual storyteller. I enjoy meaningful minimalism, so I heavily rely on my illustrations to tell the story. And anything that I can’t show visually, that’s when I tell. There’s this thing that authors and illustrators always say: “Show, don’t tell.” So that’s what I try to do first: show through my images. And anything that I can’t show, I just tell it.

I love, love, love keeping a text to a minimum. I’m a bit of an edit freak, so anytime me, my agent, or my editor suggests getting rid of lines and it works, I get really, really happy lowering the word count. In my first book, The Worst Teddy Ever, I used a mix of dialogue and an omnipresent narrator trying to play with the reader by giving them more information than what the main character knew as the story progressed. And that resulted in a fun and engaging tiny book. But this time, what I was trying to do with the dialogue in The Dream Catcher was to make it feel more intimate and personal. And the reader, in my mind, gets to experience a personal and deep conversation between a kid and his guide and protector, in his realm. And I wanted it to feel almost as a conversation with the universe, with life, or a caring and loving being from a higher realm – offering support, wisdom, and guidance throughout Miguelito’s consciousness and spiritual journey.

...I see this book as an homage to their innocence, their resilience, and generosity in a beautiful and respectful way.

AC: There is so much you do visually in The Dream Catcher. We see the beauty of Oaxaca coast, and the harsh reality of people of lesser means. What was it like to bring this all to the page?

MV: To me, it just feels honest. And me being born and raised in México and then coming to LA, where I live currently, that’s just a part of the reality that I experienced. In a sense, I wanted to honor all of our kids living under unfavorable circumstances and create a space for them to feel seen. And I see this book as an homage to their innocence, their resilience, and generosity in a beautiful and respectful way. I also wanted to share visually my favorite place from my country, and showcase all the magic, beauty, richness and culture that inspire me so much. It makes me feel extremely proud of being mexicano and Latino.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from The Dream Catcher?

MV: I think that it’s human to have dreams and plans and hopes for the future. I think that we all have them. But at the same time, I feel it’s really important not to get lost in those so we can stay present and be grateful for what’s already here and now. I believe the dream called ‘today’ is the one thing that’s real, and everything else is an illusion. I’d love (it) if The Dream Catcher worked as a tiny reminder to stay grateful in the present moment, and to always keep faith even under difficult circumstances.


Photo: Ximena Verdad

Marcelo Verdad is an author and illustrator from México who likes to tell stories from unconventional perspectives. He graduated from ArtCenter College of Design, where he came upon the Children's Book Illustration class and immediately fell in love with kids' books. He is a member of SCBWI, and was one of the recipients of the Mentorship Award at SCBWI’s 2019 Summer Conference. The Worst Teddy Ever is his picture book debut. He lives in Los Angeles, California.

 

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.

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.

Interview: Our Otherness Is Our Strength by Andrea Navedo

In her book Our Otherness Is Our Strength: Wisdom from the Boogie Down Bronx, Andrea Navedo, known as Xiomara from the acclaimed CW series Jane the Virgin, reminds us that “When you show up for you, amazing things happen.” A short but powerful book, filled with lessons on how to thrive in our “otherness.”

Expanding on her commencement address to her former alma mater DeWitt Clinton High School as well as other speeches that she has given, Navedo proudly highlights how her upbringing in The Bronx has made her who she is today. From learning how to stand up for herself, to further exploring her culture, to becoming the representation she wished to see on television, Our Otherness Is Our Strength is an invitation from Navedo to believe in yourself.

Each chapter begins with a quote, wisdom that gets reflected throughout each unique story, and as we slowly get more intimate with Navedo, we start seeing that there’s no limitations to what one can achieve if you believe in yourself.

On behalf of Latinx in Publishing, I asked Navedo a few questions about the journey that led to writing her book, the importance of Latinx representation in the media, exploring your cultural history and more.

Tiffany Gonzalez (TG): I'm a huge Jane The Virgin fan and was excited to learn that you had a forthcoming book. I was also even more excited to learn that you were from the Bronx, as I spent my childhood there, until I was 13 years old. How did the idea for this book come into fruition. And why did you decide to focus on your upbringing and the Boogie Down?

Andrea Navedo (AN): I wrote this book because while I was on Jane the Virgin I was invited to give the commencement speech at the high school I graduated from. I had been wanting to write a book for a while. I wasn't sure what it was going to be about, but I felt like I had some ideas to share. And so when I got the invitation to give the commencement speech at Dewitt Clinton Highschool in The Bronx, I thought, Wow, here I am! It's 30 years later. What am I gonna say to these kids? I was one of those kids sitting in those seats. The response from the speech was so positive that I wanted to share what I told them, tell stories they related to, on a bigger scale. That’s where the idea for the book came from.

The other reason why I have the Bronx in the title is because when I was growing up, I felt like “the other”—one who's not part of the mainstream, not accepted. I felt that being from The Bronx was one of the things that made me “other.” Also, the reputation The Bronx has worldwide is as dangerous, a bad place. I wanted to shine a light on the humanity that is in that borough and show that good can come out of The Bronx, that wisdom can come out from there—and places like it. I wanted to focus on my upbringing to show the humanity of my community.

I may not have gotten to see myself reflected on television, but I got to be the person to help create that reflection, that image.

TG: OK, I grew up in the 90’s/2000s and watched a lot of TV in Spanish and English. It never dawned on me that no one ever looked like me until much later in life. It's one of the reasons that I love Jane the Virgin. I not only saw myself but my family in the characters. Can you talk more on why it's important for characters like Xiomara, to exist on television and your thoughts on the future of Latinx people in the media?

AN: I was aware, when I was growing up that I wasn’t being reflected on television and film. As a little girl, I had a dream of being an actress. I never shared it because it seemed like a pie-in-the-sky dream, unobtainable, especially because I didn't see my own images reflected on television—at least not in a positive way.

I’m a member of the Geena Davis Institute for Gender in Media. Her message is “If she can See it, she can Be it.” What she tries to promote are more female images in front of the camera, more female lead characters and she's also expanded that agenda to bring in more diverse characters, as well. I believe that motto is true, that if she can see it, she can be it. Unfortunately, I didn't see it. So it was really hard for me to believe that I could “be it.” I'm glad that I tried acting as a career anyway, because I got to be one of the people who have represented people like me and have created an image that could potentially inspire a younger generation of “others.” I may not have gotten to see myself reflected on television, but I got to be the person to help create that reflection, that image. That's really important to me. Jane the Virgin was the show that I needed when I was growing up. I needed that show. It would have meant so much to me. But the prize came later on for me, when I became an adult. I got to be the person to bring that gift, not only to my family, (because the women in my family didn't get to see it either) but to other generations of Latinos, people of color and a diverse background of so many cultures that related to Jane the Virgin. It is not just being Latina. That whole immigrant story makes sense to so many cultures in the United States and globally. I'm proud and happy that I got to be one of persons who helped tell that story.

TG: In the book, you discussed negative portrayals of The Bronx in the media, throughout your upbringing. Do you think those portrayals are different today? If so, how? What is something positive you wish for people to know about The Bronx?

AN: There’s definitely way more positive images of Latinos or people of color in the media now. That's because so many people have been speaking up for years, pointing out the discrepancy in the population at large versus what you see on the screen. There was a huge discrepancy there that makes a certain segment of the population feel left out, excluded, “othered.” That's really where my book comes from: feeling like “the other” but realizing that being “the other” and all the challenges that come along with that can be the very thing to help you succeed. Those challenges are what make you stronger. It made me strong enough to handle a very challenging career as an actor. Entertainment is still a very, very challenging career.

People may know that The Bronx just celebrated the 50th anniversary of Hip Hop, which was born in the Bronx! Hip Hop is a global, multibillion dollar industry. Who would have thought that those black and brown kids from the Bronx had anything to offer the world? And look at what they offered?! Hip Hop is not only for black and brown kids anymore. It's for all cultures. It has exploded. It’s been an amazing way of expressing the challenge of being “the other” through music and dance. It's resonated with so many people and so many cultures because everyone has some sort of otherness. Everyone has some challenge and hip hop is a way of saying F you to the Big System and carving a way for oneself. Another multibillion dollar influence is Salsa music. Salsa also comes from The Bronx. Many think that salsa music came from Puerto Rico or from Cuba. It has its influence from there but the birthplace of salsa music is The Bronx. But no one has to do something amazing or incredible in order to be validated. I want people to know that the people living in The Bronx or a place like The Bronx are human beings with dreams, wishes, wants, goals. These are people who care for their children, who want them to do well in the world, who want their kids to be safe and contributing members of society.

TG: I Absolutely loved the retelling of your time in Puerto Rico with your grandmother. I laughed when I read how much Sancocho you ate. I have to ask if Sancocho is still a go for you? 

AN: Ah Sancocho, I hardly ever eat because it's such a hearty stew and there's so much salt in it. I try to avoid soups because I’m watching my blood pressure. Fun, I know. . . If I'm given the opportunity, I would definitely have some as a treat, but Sancocho is so delicious and filling, I wouldn’t need to eat for the rest of the day!

. . . learning the language, learning about your history, and traveling to your country of origin, really help give you a sense of belonging.

TG: We are in a pivotal time, people are exploring their histories more, doing the research they weren’t assigned growing up, fighting back the unjust systems trying to erase our past. What is your advice to those on this crucial journey?

AN: I would say to explore your heritage, your background, what your genetic makeup is. Learn where your parents and grandparents are from, where your great grandparents are from, because it will give you a sense of identity and belonging. I needed that growing up. As a kid, I knew I was Puerto Rican, but I didn't really know what that meant. Puerto Rico was just some island far off I had never been to. It sounded cool. I was an American, although I didn't feel American because I didn't look American. I didn't look like the people on TV. I kept asking myself, “Who am I and where do I belong?” Then I had the opportunity to go for a month to Puerto Rico to stay with my grandmother and have Sancocho and roast coffee beans from the family farm out in the sun, on the patio. I had the freshest, best coffee I've ever had in my entire life. That gave me a sense of identity and belonging. Then, as an adult, I decided to learn Spanish because I did not grow up speaking Spanish. I was technically second generation in the States and so even though my parents speak Spanish, they would always speak to me in English. They grew up in a time where assimilation was the most important thing. You had to assimilate into the American culture and on some level, you had to reject your family culture. There was a lot of racism that my parents experienced, especially my mom because she had brown skin, like me. My father had fair skin, blue eyes so it was a little easier for him to navigate the world, but for my mother, it was harder. As an adult, I started to learn Spanish, especially because when on that trip to Puerto Rico, I didn't know how to speak with my extended family members. I couldn't understand them and they made a comment that it was a shame that I didn't speak Spanish. I felt very embarrassed and said, “Hell no! When I get older I'm going to learn how to speak Spanish.” So when I graduated college I went to Mexico. It was cheapest of all those Spanish abroad Programs. I had some money saved up. I went to Mexico for three months, attended a Spanish school, lived with a family who didn't speak English and I learned so much during that time. After that, I studied in Manhattan at a really cool school that doesn't use textbooks. They teach in a way that is very natural to how we learn to speak languages. I also went to Cuba for a month to the University of Havana. I’ve done all this to claim my identity because learning the language, learning about your history, and traveling to your country of origin, really help give you a sense of belonging.

Writing this book gave me the opportunity to look at where I was from and to see how far I had come.

TG: Could you share some words of wisdom to those embracing  their “Otherness?” 

AN: Write down the negative experiences or feelings you've had growing up or even in your adult life. What were the challenges your otherness created? For me, the sense of being Latina and brown from The Bronx, made me feel like I was less than, not valuable enough to be an actor or to be a featured actor. But I persevered anyway. I pushed against that, and those things made me stronger. I lived in a tough neighborhood, was bullied, but I used that to make myself stronger. Back to your list. Write down your challenges, especially those that came with your otherness. Then list the achievements in your life. So often we focus on what we didn’t get and what was bad and wrong that happened to us and never stop to say, “Well wait, look what have I overcome and achieved.” That’s what was so great about writing this book. Writing this book gave me the opportunity to look at where I was from and to see how far I had come. Those are my words of wisdom. Do that exercise and see how your otherness has strengthened you.

TG: Finally, what can we expect next from you?

AN: *The audio version of the book will be coming out very soon. I'm actually going into the studio to record the audio book, so that's what's next for me! My next goal is to work on a TED talk or two, but nothing is in stone yet. For those who’ve never heard of a TED Talk, it’s a global organization that promotes speeches to help share ideas and get the word out to millions of listeners.

*The audio is now available via audible.


Andrea Navedo is a Bronx-born-and-raised Puerto Rican American actress best known for her role as Xiomara, a complex and genuine Latina, on The CW’s series Jane the Virgin, for which she received critical acclaim. She is dedicated to various charities, including A Place Called Home in South Central Los Angeles, and the Fresh Air Fund in New York City. Navedo has a passion for self-improvement, growth, and healing, and through her experiences seeks to help those who see themselves on the outside looking in. She and her family divide their time between their homes in Toronto and Connecticut. 

Website: AndreaNavedo.com
Instagram: @andreanavedo
Facebook: /AndreaNavedoOfficial
Twitter: @andreanavedo

Tiffany Gonzalez is the Marketing Manager at Astra House and the Board Treasurer for Latinx In Publishing. She previously worked in Production at HarperCollins Publishers. She has worked on the Publicity and Marketing campaign for Dreaming of You by Melissa Lozada-Oliva and on the Marketing campaigns for Becoming Abolitionists by Derecka Purnell, National Book Award Finalist The Town of Babylon by Alejandro Varela and Y/N by Esther Yi. She was a 2022 Publishers Weekly Rising Star Honoree. She has earned her Bachelors and Master's degrees from Rutgers University - New Brunswick. She is Dominican-American and fluid in Spanish. You can follow her on Instagram @wandering_tiff_ and on Twitter @wanderingtiff or visit her website wanderingtiff.com.

Author Q&A: Paloma’s Song for Puerto Rico by Adriana Erin Rivera

Paloma Santos is excited about her new diary. In her first diary entry dated July 16, 1898, she shares how her friend, Rosa, had brought her this leather journal from a market in Ponce.

Paloma is a 12-year-old girl who lives in Puerto Rico, on a large coffee farm with her mami, papi, and baby brother, Jorge. She has brown eyes and wavy brown hair. She loves to sing.

“Papi heard that 1898 would be an important year for us to remember,” Paloma writes in the diary. “He says we are in a war. It is between the United States and Spain. They are fighting over the island, our isla, we call home. We are a Spanish colony, but we are also Puerto Ricans.”

Out now from Capstone Publishing, Paloma’s Song for Puerto Rico: A Diary from 1898 by Adriana Erin Rivera is a historical fiction middle grade novel about one Puerto Rican girl during the Spanish-American War—during which the United States invaded the island. The book illustrated by Eugenia Nobati is part of Nuestras Voces, a new series in partnership with the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Latino.

Paloma’s Song for Puerto Rico is told in diary format, which helps make the fears and anxieties around war more accessible to a young audience. Rivera—an author and singer/songwriter of Puerto Rican descent—said that she conducted a lot of research to tell this story properly.

“I was so inspired by this story—by this idea of Paloma and who she could be, and what she was looking forward to, this optimism, this hope she has,” Rivera said. “What would she be interested in as a child?”

The result is a taut and memorable story about one young girl and the lifelong impact of war on her and her family. And it’s also about a critical time in Puerto Rico’s history that would forever shape it.

Rivera spoke with Latinx in Publishing about crafting Paloma’s story, the research it entailed, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo (AC): Congratulations on Paloma’s Song for Puerto Rico! I understand this book was a collaboration with the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum for the American Latino. How did you land the opportunity to write this story?

Adriana Erin Rivera (AER): This story came to me in a really surprising way. The publisher actually reached out to me and asked me if I would be interested in writing this book. They gave me some parameters of what they were looking for in a story like this, because it is part of a series. . . They had that it would be a Puerto Rican girl, 12 years old in 1898. And it’s all they gave me. They were like, ‘OK, go.’ Immediately I was inspired, and I built a story around these three details.

I was so inspired by this story—by this idea of Paloma and who she could be, and what she was looking forward to, this optimism, this hope she has. What would she be interested in as a child? I was also really inspired by my childhood visiting Puerto Rico. My abuelo had a farm in Aguadilla. So I pulled a lot of my own feelings of, what did Puerto Rico look like to me as a child? I pulled those ideas of Puerto Rico through a child’s eyes, and I built that into the story. And I think that’s really what came out in the book.

AC: Your main character, Paloma—lives on a finca with her parents and baby brother, Jorge. She’s very much a girl from el campo, as they say. She helps her mother in the house and also outside by helping to tend to the chickens and fruit trees. What was it like crafting this character from a time that is well over a century ago?

AER: I did a lot of research [Laughs]. Initially, I didn’t know so much about the Spanish-American War. It wasn’t really taught in the context of Puerto Rico in school for me, so I had to learn a lot to really tell the story properly and authentically. I didn’t want to mince words or talk down to readers, or shy away from things that were very real to the time, and very real to Puerto Rican people. It’s very important that we don’t lose track of what really did happen in our history. So it was very important to me to really keep that in mind as I was writing it.

AC: Your book is so lively with details about Paloma’s life, and snippets of information about the Spanish-American War? Tell us more about the research or resources you tapped into to get all those details for the story.

AER: I initially was overwhelmed by the fact that I didn’t know so much about the topic, but then I immediately thought, Where can I get the most information in the quickest amount of time? It was like a crash course in the Spanish-American War for me. I went to libraries and I reached out to the Newark, New Jersey Public Library, and they were able to give me all sorts of resource articles and the really in-depth things that you need to know without having to go over the top. I also got information from the Library of Congress. They have a whole timeline on their website, which is great because this (the book) is in diary form. So knowing what happened on each single day was super important, so I could really keep track of what was happening in Paloma’s life each day as the story goes on.

AC: What surprised you about Puerto Rico’s history while doing your research?

AER: It was really eye-opening for me. I learned about El Grito De Lares, which was a really important time for Puerto Ricans’ revolution against Spain. I learned a lot about how people in el campo really lived back then. There were a lot of resources at the Smithsonian that they wanted to include in the story, and they worked seamlessly into the story—like the tiple, the cuatro, the coconut bowls, and things that were really critical for people living there at that time. Just everyday things that were really important to how they lived back then. And knowing what those looked like and what those items were was really important to weave into the story.

AC: There’s a thread throughout the book about music, and its importance to not just Paloma and her father. And I know you’re a singer/songwriter, too. Why did you want to include music in this way in this story?

AER: Music is so important to Puerto Rican culture. It’s important to a lot of Latin American cultures—I think all of them. And it’s important to a lot of cultures in general. Music is how we tell our stories, right? I thought that music as a creative outlet for Paloma would be really important as a character, just in the sense that it was not just about the farm for her. What does she do? What is she interested in? Whether it was art, whether it was dancing, whether it was music, I wanted to find something that was in her heart besides just the farm. And I found that music would be the best way to showcase that, and weave it into the culture as well. The cultural aspect of that was going to be really critical, in terms of telling the story. And like I said, music is part of how we tell our stories through history. Her song really does resonate through that.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from Paloma’s Song for Puerto Rico?

AER: When I set out to write this story, I wanted to make sure that Latinos see themselves as the stars of their own story. And I think that’s really what the Smithsonian is doing with this series, which I love. I wanted readers to see themselves as the stars of their own story. I wanted them to see themselves in the cover. I wanted them to see themselves as important. Our stories are important, so I wanted to make sure that was shining through. 

And then I also thought that within the story was really important because any reader’s culture can be showcased, and I wanted readers to see the book and think, ‘Well, I wonder where my family is from. And I wonder if there’s information about where my culture is from.’ Wherever their cultural origin is. . . I thought it would be important for them to see themselves and want to learn more about themselves.


Adriana Erin Rivera is a New Jersey-raised author of Puerto Rican descent. Her writing has been published in Barzakh Magazine, Metro New York, Latina Magazine, and Footwear News. She is also a singer and songwriter, and has written theatrical pieces that have been performed on New York City stages. A magna cum laude graduate of the Fashion Institute of Technology, she holds a bachelor’s degree in Advertising and Marketing Communications. Her latest middle grade historical fiction book, PALOMA’S SONG FOR PUERTO RICO: A DIARY FROM 1898, is a collaboration with the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum for the American Latino. Currently based in Westchester County, NY, Adriana is a Marketing Manager at a higher-education institution in New York.

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, Brooklyn.

Margarita Engle and Olivia Sua On Bringing Water Day To Readers

Water days are special days for a young girl in Trinidad—a town in central Cuba. They hold great significance for her whole village, actually.

On this particular water day, the girl joins her mami on a mission to mend their family’s leaky hose.

By the time the water man
finally arrives, we’ll be ready to fill
the blue tank on our flat red roof
with clear water
that flows
like hope
for my whole
thirsty familia.

Newbery Honor Award-winning author Margarita Engle brings readers Water Day—a celebratory picture book about the arrival of the water man to a small village. The book (out now from Atheneum Books for Young Readers) was illustrated by Olivia Sua.

The village in Water Day no longer has its own water supply. So residents rely on the water man, who visits weekly to distribute water to them. This time, he arrives in a wagon pulled by a horse that strains against the weight of a metal tank. Through the eyes of the book’s young narrator, readers are pulled into the anticipation of this day and, most importantly, what it means to have access to water.

“This story is really the contrast between how easy it is to get a drink of water in so many places, and how difficult it is in so many other places,” Engle told Latinx in Publishing. “And I’m not going to say that it’s just the U.S. against developing countries, because I live in a part of California where a lot of my neighbors’ wells have gone dry. And we don’t have access to city water because we’re in a rural residential zone. So if our wells go dry, that’s it. We have to do exactly what’s shown in this book, which is [to] bring water in a tanker truck.”

Engle was born in Los Angeles but spent many childhood summers with family in her mother’s hometown of Trinidad de Cuba. The author said she featured a horse and wagon for water transport in her book because, in Cuba, there’s a fuel shortage which causes horses to be used in some areas to bring water to people.

The joyous tone of Water Day is not only a credit to Engle’s lyrical style of writing, but also to Sua’s gorgeous illustrations. Sua’s art form of mostly painted cut paper breathes life into the book—bringing readers closer to Cuba and its people. There are also colorful houses with intricate iron window bars. There is a kitchen with hanging pots. A mango tree. There are mountain landscapes behind homes and churches. And even tinajones—big clay jars that the narrator’s great-grandmother says used to be filled with daily afternoon rains.

“This is probably one of the most research-intensive books I’ve ever done because I was trying to capture Trinidad,” Sua said. “I wanted to get the essence right.”

Though Water Day doesn’t explicitly say the story is set in Cuba, Engle confirmed it is.

Sua said she conducted a lot of research on Cuba through Google Maps and through photos of the country online. She also received input from Engle.

The illustrator said the story’s themes of environmentalism and the climate crisis first drew her to Engle’s manuscript. They are topics she cares deeply about.

Readers of Water Day may feel a jolt of realization as to just how important water is in their everyday lives. This is succinctly described in the below lines from the book:

Five days have passed 
since the water man’s last visit.

We need to bathe,
wash clothes, 
cook rice…

Engle didn’t hesitate when asked if that was intentional on her part.

“Yes, absolutely,” the author said. “We take water for granted. . . There’s a lot of injustice all over the world. It’s not just Cuba. It’s not just certain societies. There’s just this injustice in terms of access to water, and it’s so basic. This is something that everybody needs, but we don’t have equal access.”

Sua said Water Day is an important story. “Some of us are experiencing flooding,” the illustrator said, “and some of us are experiencing water scarcity.”

Engle has written many verse novels, memoirs, and picture books throughout her publishing career. For this book, she wanted to tell the story from the point of view of a child without scaring readers or making them sad.

“I actually wanted to focus on the joy of the arrival of the water, rather than on those days in between when you don’t have it being delivered,” the award-winning poet said. “I wanted to focus on the excitement of just what it means to finally have water.”

In her author’s note, Engle wrote about her mother’s hometown of Trinidad and how water access has become a lot more complicated due to factors such as climate change, polluted groundwater, and crumbling pipes for delivery. She told Latinx in Publishing that, when searching online for photos of the rooftops in Trinidad, you’ll see the blue tanks of water. You would not have seen that a few years ago, Engle added, “because everybody was able to get enough water from wells and so forth.”

She wants children to think about how privileged they are when they do have running water.

“I want to say we’re wealthy if we have that, but it’s a different kind of wealth because there are areas where middle-class people in the U.S. don’t have access to clean water,” Engle said. “So it’s just something to not take for granted. We need to treasure our natural resources.”


Margarita Engle is the Cuban American author of many books including the verse novels Rima’s Rebellion; Your Heart, My Sky; With a Star in My Hand; The Surrender Tree, a Newbery Honor winner; and The Lightning Dreamer. Her verse memoirs include Soaring Earth and Enchanted Air, which received the Pura Belpré Award, a Walter Dean Myers Award Honor, and was a finalist for the YALSA Award for Excellence in Nonfiction, among others. Her picture books include Drum Dream Girl, Dancing Hands, and The Flying Girl. Visit her at MargaritaEngle.com.

Olivia Sua is an artist who creates elaborate works of painted cut paper. She is from Washington State and resides in her hometown of North Bend. In 2020, Olivia graduated from Pacific Northwest College of Art with a BFA in illustration. When she’s not illustrating, Olivia likes to go backpacking, quilt, and collect seeds for her garden. Visit her at oliviasua.com.

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, Brooklyn.

Author Q & A: Mari and the Curse of El Cocodrilo by Adrianna Cuevas

When 12-year-old Maricela Yanet Feijoo isn’t at school or with her best friends, Keisha and Juan Carlos, she can sometimes be found wincing at what she calls her family’s “Peak Cubanity.” She also worries that her next-door neighbor and classmate—who she calls “Mocosa” Mykenzye—will judge.

“Peak Cubanity” is what Mari calls her family’s behavior when she feels they’re being over-the-top. And she’s got many examples from which to draw from on New Year’s Eve because that’s when she says they reach Peak Cubanity. It’s the day Abuelita lugs a suitcase around the block because she wants to travel the upcoming year. And Mami sweeps and mops the whole house, leaving a bucket of dirty water by the front door, so that she can throw it out at midnight.

“At least we won’t be eating twelve grapes at midnight as fast as we can,” Mari narrates. “When I almost choked last year, Papi had to do the Heimlich maneuver on me and everything. I shot a green grape straight out of my throat and into the eye of my sister, Liset. Maybe something that’s supposed to bring you good luck shouldn’t also try to kill you. Just a thought.”

Cuevas brings readers another memorable story that will both make you chuckle and feel deeply for a young girl finding her place on her family tree.

Which is why at the start of Adrianna Cuevas’ new middle grade novel, Mari and the Curse of El Cocodrilo, the titular character declines to participate in her family’s biggest New Year’s Eve traditions: burning an effigy to rid themselves of the past year’s bad luck. But after Mari fails to throw hers into the fire, strange things begin happening. Bad luck falls upon her, then spreads to her friend, Keisha.

Out now from HarperCollins, Mari and the Curse of El Cocodrilo is a heartfelt and humorous story about one girl’s journey toward self-acceptance and learning how important it is to know your family’s history. Spooky vibes and silliness also permeate the book, as readers witness all kinds of things happening to Mari. Among them are uncooperative pencils during a quiz, a possessed violin and, in Keisha’s case, shoes that glue to the mat when she’s at fencing practice.

Once Mari discovers she has a unique ability to call upon her Cuban ancestors, she and her friends embark on a quest to work with the ghosts to try to defeat El Cocodrilo. Can they do it?

In Mari and the Curse of El Cocodrilo Cuevas brings readers another memorable story that will both make you chuckle and feel deeply for a young girl finding her place on her family tree. The Pura Belpré Honor-winning author spoke with Latinx in Publishing about crafting Mari’s story, preserving your family’s history, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo (AC): Congratulations on Mari and the Curse of El Cocodrilo! What inspired this story?

Adrianna Cuevas (AC): This story really came from a couple of avenues. First, I’m a horror fan. I’ve always loved horror. My dad took me to see Alien 3 when I was a kid in the theater, probably way younger than a child should have been seeing Alien 3 in the theater. That is a core memory for me. Part of it was this is my fourth published book now, and I’ve been writing mostly adventure. I was a little bit spookier with The Ghosts of Rancho Espanto, but I really wanted to dip my toe more into spookier stories for middle grade kids.

The emotional inspiration really comes from my own experiences, and different students that I’ve interacted with; those second and third generation kids who are trying to figure out how their parents’ culture and their grandparents’ culture still fits into their lives. Because I think sometimes you can feel a little bit more disconnected from it.

For me, growing up I didn’t hear about a lot of the experiences of my family when they were in Cuba. They didn’t talk about them. One of the reasons I wrote Cuba in My Pocket was because I wanted to hear those stories. A lot of times there’s kind of a disconnect, where you don’t have all the family history that a lot of other families do. My husband’s family is from rural Oklahoma and when his grandfather passed away, they had this shed full of all this stuff from generations and generations past that was connected to their family history. Everything had a story. And I thought, I don’t have anything like that. I have things from my dad, but they’re all from things once he moved to the U.S. I have one small jewelry box that my grandmother actually wrote on the inside, “I brought this from Cuba.” That is literally the only thing.

So that’s a long-winded answer to say I was drawing from my own experience of kids that feel like they’re wanting that connection, perhaps—or maybe they don’t—with their family’s culture. But they’re not quite sure how that works. Then, of course, I wanted to throw in some horror just to make it fun—because I can never help that.

AC: Your main character, Maricela—or Mari—cringes at how extra her Cuban family can be. She even has a term for it: Peak Cubanity. It reminded me of how some first generation Americans struggle at times to straddle two cultures—that of the United States and of the country their parents hail from. What was it like crafting this character who, from the first page, seems to shun her family’s culture at first?

AC: A lot of it was not entirely based on my own experiences, but drawn from them. I grew up in Miami, Florida. Growing up Cuban in Miami, Florida, is a super privileged thing to do in all honesty, because your culture is everywhere. Our music is on the radio. You have your choice of Cuban restaurants to visit. You would go out and do all your errands for the day, and never have to speak English once.

I did not feel that sense of ‘other’ until I went to college in Missouri, because that was my first time being away from an area where, in all honesty, my culture was the majority. And so I got that sense that Mari does, of ‘Well, who am I and how do I fit in? And everyone here assumes that I’m Mexican because I speak Spanish.’ That happened to me a ton. It especially happens to me here in Texas. And so I wanted to honor those kids who feel the same way. I mean, Mari loves her family. But what child of any cultural background is not embarrassed by their family ever so often?

I wanted Mari to experience the joy that you can get from learning your family’s history, but at the same time understanding maybe why you didn’t know all about it to begin with. Because a lot of it can be painful. That happened when I was researching Cuba in My Pocket. I’m asking my dad and my cousins, as well, of their experiences in Cuba and coming over to the U.S. And not all the stories are great. You can see why maybe kids don’t hear everything, and adults are reluctant to talk about it. A lot of it was drawn from my personal experiences. But if you’ve ever met Cubans, the “Peak Cubanity” fits because we are not a subtle people. And so I had a lot of fun just writing the joy and the extra that Mari’s family is.

AC: Your book is so lively with all the bad luck shenanigans that happen to Mari and, later, her friend, Kiesha. How did you come up with all the bad luck instances that happen? That was so fun to read.

AC: I will say that coming up with nonsense or just off-the-wall things is not hard for me when I am living with a now 16-year-old. Neither he—as my son—nor I have any filters. We tend to bounce really silly ideas off of each other all the time. I think as a creative person, it is really important to have someone like that in your life who doesn’t edit your creativity. They encourage you.

In all honesty, I’ve gotten into the habit where, if an idea pops into my head—even if it’s really off-the-wall—I’m not self-editing right away. I think that happens to a lot of authors, where you come up with an idea and the very next spot is, ‘Oh, no, that’s dumb. Nobody’s gonna want to read that.’ Because I have people in my life—my husband, my son—who are always encouraging my ideas and helping me brainstorm even the most nonsensical thing, I really value that as somebody in a creative profession.

It’s not hard to think of off-the-wall things when you’re just kind of letting your brain go. I always joke that as a Cuban, it’s very easy to write horror. It’s very easy to write a character that’s been cursed with bad luck. By and large, because of our political history, Cubans tend to be pessimists in all honesty. They’re gonna look at a situation and pretty much assume the worst is going to happen. That’s the whole function of horror, is asking, ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ And so I feel like I was at a cultural advantage, thinking: ‘Well, what’s the worst that can happen to Mari in this situation?’

AC: You’re like, ‘I got this. I’m Cuban.’

AC: Exactly. Like, I was already being a pessimist about this situation. I knew what was going to happen.

AC: There’s another storyline here about the importance of documenting the stories and memories of family members who are deceased. What message were you hoping to send by highlighting this?

AC: I realize that for each of my books, it’s really my way of hanging on to something that I think is important, and that I think needs to be remembered. . . In Mari’s story, it’s my way of showing that, ‘This is why that’s important. We’re not going to have all these people around forever.’ You know, Mari only gets a lot of the stories from ghosts. We can’t let that be our option, where we’ve waited too long to preserve our family’s history.

One of the things that I am passionate about is the ability to tell our own stories, before someone else tells them for us. We need to remember and commemorate what’s happened to us before somebody else decides to tell our own history. And so I think that’s something I’m pretty passionate about because it’s now come up in pretty much every single manuscript I’ve written. I always have the adventure plot, the horror, the silliness, whatever—but the emotional core of all my stories is always going to come from something that I feel is important to remember. I think that’s why I addressed the story the way I did.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from Mari and the Curse of El Cocodrilo?

AC: I never go into writing any of my books with a lesson in mind. Because, for me, I want young readers to dive into one of my books. I want them to lose track of time. I want them to forget where they are, and I want them to just enjoy a story. That’s my primary goal with every single one of my books.

With Mari though, it would make me pretty happy if it made a young reader curious about their own family’s histories, start asking their elders some questions, or asking to be told stories. But by and large, I’m always just wanting my readers to have fun with my books.


Adrianna Cuevas is the author of the Pura Belpre honor book The Total Eclipse of Nestor Lopez, Cuba in My Pocket, The Ghosts of Rancho Espanto, Mari and the Curse of El Cocodrilo, and Monster High: A Fright to Remember. She is a first-generation Cuban-American originally from Miami, Florida. A former Spanish and ESOL teacher, Adrianna currently resides outside of Austin, Texas with her husband and son. When not working with TOEFL students, wrangling multiple pets including an axolotl, and practicing fencing with her son, she is writing her next middle grade novel.

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, Brooklyn.

Andrea Beatriz Arango on Found Family in Something Like Home

Something Like Home opens to a dreaded ride. Laura Rodríguez Colón is in the backseat of her caseworker Janet’s car. They’re headed to Laura’s new (temporary) home. When they reach Titi Silvia’s apartment, Laura stares at a woman she doesn’t recognize nor has ever had a relationship with.

The sixth-grader doesn’t understand why she has a caseworker, or what a caseworker even does. Still, Laura floods Janet with questions. Below are a few:

How long will I be with my aunt?
What will happen to our trailer?
What will happen to the things I don’t pack?
When can I talk to Mom?
When can I talk to Dad?
What does kinship care mean?

Laura wonders if the 911 call she made is what caused her to be separated from her parents. She wonders if this is all her fault.

Another day, while on a walk, Laura finds a dog. The big brown puppy looks sickly, and so she carries the dog all the way to Titi Silvia’s house. She names him Sparrow.

Andrea Beatriz Arango, the Newbery Honor Award-winning author of Iveliz Explains It All, has brought forth a moving middle grade novel-in-verse about a young girl on a journey to understand what home means, and what makes up a family. Readers witness Laura navigate a strange reality—a new place to rest her head at night, a new school, and a budding new friendship—all without her parents.

After taking in Sparrow, Laura also finds a newfound purpose. She believes that if she trains him to become a therapy dog, then perhaps she’ll be allowed to visit her mom and dad. Perhaps, then, she could move back in with them and their family would be made whole again.

But, of course, it is not that easy.

“I’m a firm believer in that community can look like a lot of different things,” Arango told Latinx in Publishing. “Family can look like a lot of different things.”

Something Like Home was inspired by the author’s time as a foster mom in both her native Puerto Rico and in Virginia, where she most recently lived. Arango said that a lot of children—even those who aren’t in foster care but come from big families—are asked to choose one family member over another, or to take sides in an argument.

“I think it’s really hard as a kid to feel like you have to choose, and you can’t have more than one thing,” Arango said. “I really wanted to explore that in this particular scenario, in a non-traditional home situation, or just in general that idea that you can have more than one home, and you can have more than one family. And loving one of them does not cancel out the other. You don’t have to pledge your loyalty to only one person, or one home.”

It’s something Laura struggles with at first.

“She feels that it’s a betrayal of her parents if she starts growing her bond with her aunt or that, by loving her aunt, she’s loving her parents less,” Arango said. “And that’s definitely not the case.”

Because Laura is 11, her voice feels a bit younger than what readers are used to in the middle grade genre. She struggles through feelings of guilt and a deep longing for her parents—through verse and in letters she writes to her parents. Arango impresses in her crafting of Laura’s letters. They contain hope, desperation, and optimism. They are heart-rendering.

“With Laura, you have someone who doubts herself all the time, and who thinks things are the way they are because she’s making bad choices. And that she doesn’t have the capacity to be in control of her own life and to make correct choices,” Arango said. “I think a lot of kids do feel that way. And part of the reason behind that is because we—as adults and caregivers and teachers—sometimes unintentionally reinforce that belief in kids over and over.”

The presence and memories associated with Laura’s parents looms over the entire book, heightening the stakes for a daughter in yearning. Readers will find themselves wishing they would write her back soon.

Arango covers several themes in her sophomore book with ample tenderness: identity, addiction, the nuances of kinship care, and even the self-blame children exercise when in pain. The author’s writing is both intimate and accessible, as readers are taking on an emotional rollercoaster with Laura as she both learns and unlearns different aspects of the very nature of family.

The author recalled having foster children as students in her classroom when she was a teacher, and the scarcity of what she described as nuanced foster care books. The majority of the books she found painted the parents as evil, and as social services as a rescuer of the child from a horrifying situation.

“Obviously that is the case for some children. We do have abusers in society who did terrible things to their kids,” Arango said. “But the majority of foster care cases in the U.S. are not abuse cases.”

The author’s writing is both intimate and accessible, as readers are taking on an emotional rollercoaster with Laura as she both learns and unlearns different aspects of the very nature of family.

Most of the cases, said Arango, are classified as neglect. Reasons that can lead to a child being removed from the home include a family’s financial or housing situation, or parents losing their jobs or having an addiction.

“I wanted to write a book that looked at it in a more nuanced way. Laura loves her parents. Her parents love her,” Arango said. “They’re not bad people. They—just like a lot of people in the U.S.—became addicted to a substance. . . That happens a lot.”

Of note in Something Like Home is Sparrow and how important his role is in Laura’s new life. Arango is a self-described “dog person,” and shared that one of her dogs was the inspiration for the fictional dog. The author said she’s interacted with therapy dogs in different scenarios and wanted to highlight them in part to raise more awareness about them for young readers. The author added that she also wanted her main character to have a project she could focus on.

“During the book, she (Laura) definitely is feeling very lost. And one of the things that makes her feel like she is doing something to help herself and her family is this training-Sparrow-kind-of-project,” Arango said. “It gives her something to work towards and it helps her not feel as helpless because she now has a plan to reunite with her family.”

At the core of Something Like Home is a lesson on found family. Arango said she hopes young readers come away with a greater awareness of foster families and kinship families.

“It’s guaranteed in most schools, there will be at least one kid per classroom who is either in foster care or kinship care, has been at some point, or has a relative who has,” the author said.

This is really common, she added.

“I wanted both for kids who are going through a situation similar to that, to feel understood and listened to and represented,” Arango said. “But also for all the kids who have never encountered it in their lives, to have a little bit more empathy moving forward in the future.”


Andrea Beatriz Arango is the Newbery Honor Award-winning author of Iveliz Explains It All. She was born and raised in Puerto Rico, and is a former public school teacher with almost a decade of teaching experience. Andrea now writes the types of children’s books she wishes students had more access to. She balances her life in Virginia with trips home to see her family and eat lots of tostones de pana. When she’s not busy writing, you can find her enjoying nature in the nearest forest or body of water.

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, Brooklyn.

Author Q & A: The Cursed Moon by Angela Cervantes

For Rafael Fuentes there appears to be no break. The eleven-year-old has failing grades, which means he’s going to have to attend summer school. And he’s been fretting about his incarcerated mother, Nikki, who is set to be released early. Rafa hasn’t forgiven her for the instability and neglect she put him and his younger sister, Brianna, through. He’s refused every invitation to visit her in the women’s prison, and he’s ignored every one of her letters.

But there’s one thing that always lifts Rafa’s spirits, and that’s telling scary stories. Ever since he and Brianna were placed with their grandparents, he’s become known by other kids as the ghost storyteller. He and his sister even host scary story nights on their porch in the summer months.

One afternoon, Rafa and Brianna come across their eccentric neighbor, Ms. Martin, who warns them against telling any scary stories under the blood moon. “I know all about your scary story nights,” she tells them.

Later that night, Rafa wants to take his mind off his mother’s return from prison and ends up meeting his friend, Jayden. In Jayden’s treehouse—and under the blood moon—Rafa ends up weaving a scary story about a ghost called The Caretaker.

Almost immediately after, strange things start happening around Rafa. Has his story come true, and is The Caretaker real? With the help of friends and a magical jaguar, Rafa embarks on a quest to fight an evil spirit threatening to harm children.

Out now from Scholastic Press, The Cursed Moon by children’s author Angela Cervantes is a ghost story filled with spooky moments and plenty of heart. Cervantes has woven a story that draws you completely in as Rafa digs for answers about an apparent curse in town. At the core of this book is an important message about the power of words, and of one’s ability to find a happy ending. There is always hope.

On behalf of Latinx in Publishing, I spoke with Cervantes about writing this middle grade horror story, her main character’s internal struggle, and more.

At the core of this book is an important message about the power of words, and of one’s ability to find a happy ending. There is always hope.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo (AC): Congratulations on The Cursed Moon! What inspired this story?

Angela Cervantes (AC): It’s so funny that we’re talking today because I was just putting up Halloween decorations in front of my house. One of my best friends from childhood is in town, and she was helping me. Her name is Elena Cordero. A couple years back we had dinner in San Antonio and she reminded me that I used to tell scary stories in the summertime to all my friends, and that she really loved it. She said she used to come back for more. It sort of sparked this interest in me again, like Oh, yeah, I forgot that about myself. I used to love to scare my friends. I loved it when they were so afraid, they didn’t want to walk home alone. They would call their mom or dad and be like, “Can you come pick me up?” Or they would go in a pack and walk home together. I loved it when they would come back the next day and be like, “I have to know. What happens to the jaguar? What happens to the kid?”

I had forgotten that part of myself—that I used to love to tell scary stories. Right after COVID when I started resuming school visits again, I would ask the students: “What kind of book would you like to read next?” And they would all say “Scary story!” And I would look over at the librarians and the teachers and they’d all be nodding their heads. Then they would tell me there’s just not enough good scary stories for the kids. They love them. They want them. And I said, “You know what? I’m going to try.”

The spark from my childhood best friend, Elena, reminding me that that’s who I used to be. . . and then the kids telling me themselves that they wanted scary stories made me say, “I want to try. And I’m just gonna give it my best shot.” And so that’s what inspired The Cursed Moon.

AC: Your main character, Rafa, is known for his ghost stories. And then one day, a neighbor warns him not to tell any scary stories under the blood moon. He dismisses her advice and tells a story anyway—about a ghost known as The Caretaker. Without spoiling too much, can you share what it was like to craft the story of this figure and impact on the community?

AC: Rafael Fuentes and I are a lot alike; we both use writing and storytelling to deal with the world around us. I’ve always been that way since I was a kid. For Rafa, the scary stories are a coping mechanism for what is going on in his very real life with his mom, his family, friends, and his new school life. And he creates these scary stories to deal with all of that. That is very much me. I write because I’m expressing what’s inside me and what I’m going through, and because I remember being that 9-year-old Mexicana in school in Topeka, Kansas, and trying to find ways for my peers to see me as something else than this girl. But I’m also a scary storyteller. I also write. I’m a poet. . . wanting to have that identity as something special about me.

I think Rafa is very much like that. And I think a lot of kids are like that. As adults, we see children, but I don’t know if we really see children and what’s going on in their lives, and what they’re going through.

The Caretaker [character] should sound like a very positive thing; someone who is caring for you, but it’s kind of a “care-taker.” It’s kind of taking care, rather than a caregiver. I just played around with that name, and I liked it. When I was a child, I wrote a scary story about a little girl and her caretaker father in a park. He wouldn’t let her read books. And one day she finds a book. It’s a whole scary story that I now have on my website as a bonus scary story for the kids if they want to find it. But The Caretaker came from that story that I told and wrote as a child. I probably was like 10 or 11 years old—about the same age as Rafa. I fleshed it out for this book because I needed a villain, and I wanted it to be a really sinister ghost. I wanted it to be something that you would think would help children, would be nice, but really isn’t.

Without really purposely intending to do it, it’s kind of how Rafa sees his mom. Your mom is supposed to help you. I think he even states that in the book—“A mom is supposed to take care of you and protect you.” But she doesn’t in his life. Not yet, anyway. There’s hope. The Caretaker is the same way. It sounds like it should be someone who is caring for you and taking care of you. But in this case, he’s actually quite a sinister ghost that wants to hurt the children.

AC: The Cursed Moon, to me, challenges the notion that stories are harmless fun. What were you hoping to say about storytelling itself?

AC: Yes, I know that kind of opened up that whole theme. At one point, Rafa is being judged so harshly by the children around him, by the adults around him, because of his mom being sick and addicted. And I know exactly how that feels—to be judged even at such a young age, when you don’t even know yourself yet. It wasn’t like I set out to do it but, in my own little way, I wanted to remind people to let children write their own stories. Let Rafa narrate his own story. Only he can decide his ending. Only he can decide what path he’ll take. But if you’re going to judge him all the time and make him feel bad for the choices of his mom or his parents, you’re not really opening him up for a path away from that.

It was just my reminder—whether it was gentle or not, whether I failed or succeeded in that regard—that words have power. Stories have power. So many times, people made up stories about me because I was a Chicana growing up in Topeka, Kansas, and judged me for it. And you don’t have the right to tell my story. Only I have the right to tell my story. Only Rafa has the right to tell his story. And that’s the story that matters.

AC: Throughout the book Rafa has an internal struggle due to his feelings towards his mother, Nikki, who is about to be released from prison. He has resentment towards her for the unstable life she gave him and his sister, Brianna. What message were you hoping to send by highlighting this tension between a child and his parent?

AC: I was really just trying to give a voice to children in those same situations. That part of the story is very personal for me. My own family has faced similar issues, and I didn’t see books that gave a voice to those children who are living with the grandparents because somehow their parents have failed them. . . I didn’t see books that also dealt with the fact that there’s a parent that’s incarcerated, yet I’ve seen that in my own family and what it does to the children. And what it does to the whole family. Everyone struggles. Everyone is affected.

I just felt like I had to give a voice and a story for these children to have, to reflect on. Hopefully, also, children who are not in that situation [will] maybe understand their classmate a little better, maybe understand the kid down the street from them a little better, and maybe show a little bit more compassion—to not judge the child by the parents’ mistake. And hopefully give children who are in that situation a little bit of hope that I see you, I hear you, and here’s a story for you.

AC: One thing I loved about your book is how much Rafa and his sister, Brianna, love each other. Rafa feels he needs to protect her at all times. Can you talk about your decision to anchor your book in this close bond?

AC: That was very purposeful. Going back to my own, similar family issue, I’ve seen the older kids want to become the parent and take on super big responsibilities. They have now taken on the role to protect and raise their younger siblings. No choice of theirs. It’s just the situation they’ve been handed. I wanted that to be reflected, and I wanted to make sure I also showed some growth in Rafa and Brianna’s relationship. Without giving too much away, to show that Brianna can now see his point of view, where he’s coming from: that need to always protect. He shouldn’t have to take all that on himself. And him to say, “I want to be a kid again, and I want to have my mom back in my life, eventually”—when he feels it’s right for him and Brianna, so that he can be the kid and just enjoy life.

I myself grew up with very close siblings. My parents divorced when I was nine years old, and that made my four siblings and I very close. We felt like we had each other to fall back on, to protect each other when our parents were going through a rough divorce. . . I really used my own experiences with my big brothers for Rafa and my experience with Brianna —always loving words, always loving stories, always admiring everything her big brother did. That is my lived experience as well.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from The Cursed Moon?

AC: One, I always hope my novels will just spark interest in reading in all children. I just want them to be lifelong readers. I want them to know that they can go to books for information. They can go to books for an escape. They can go to books for friends. They can go to books when they need to be alone with themselves and figure things out. I hope they walk away from this book wanting to read more books, and understanding that books can be their friends.

Secondly, I just hope that they go away with a little bit more compassion for their classmate or the kid down the street who might be going through a tough time. Everyone is going through their own personal struggles, and just have a little compassion.


Angela Cervantes is the Mexican American author of popular children’s novels Lead with Your Heart (American Girls book); Me, Frida, and the Secret of the Peacock Ring; Gaby, Lost and Found; Allie, First at Last and; Lety Out Loud, which won a 2020 Pura Belpré Honor Award. In addition to her original novels, Angela authored the junior novelization for Disney/Pixar’s animated-film, Coco and Disney’s animated film, Encanto.

Angela is a daughter of a retired elementary-school teacher who instilled in her a love for reading and storytelling. Angela writes from her home in Kansas City. When she’s not writing, Angela enjoys reading, running, gazing up at clouds, and taking advantage of Taco Tuesdays.

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, Brooklyn.