Book Review: 'Flores and Miss Paula’ by Melissa Rivero

 

Mother-daughter relationships can be complicated and exacerbating, yet mothers are almost always on our side. Can we, daughters, be on their side, too? Are Latina daughters the friendly ears their mothers need? Flores and Miss Paula, by Melissa Rivero, takes you to the complex relationship between first-generation immigrant parents and their American-born children. The novel is about how Flores and her mother, Paula, find a way to keep living their separate yet connected lives in the absence of Martin, Paula’s first love and husband, and Flores’ beloved father. In a narrative filled with suspense, touching moments, and well-placed lines of Spanish/English code-switching that echo the Latino universe, Flores and Miss Paula are pushed to find common ground in their different ways of loving, trusting, and being for each other.

Flores and Miss Paula is set in New York from a New Yorker Latinx perspective. It effectively captures the multicultural air from Brooklyn to Queens, including a Peruvian Independence Day celebration in Flushing Meadows Park, with its characteristic colors, aromas, flavors, and music. We walk with Paula to neighborhoods and memories, where neighbors know each other and the Latino community gathers in the park to play soccer or just chismosear. We go with Flores from the solitary fire escape stairs in Brooklyn to her work in a startup company in Manhattan, where, despite enmeshed office politics, we chat with our favorite coworker and befriend the new Latino employee. 

The novel starts with Flores finding an apology note under her father’s urn, the sacred place where superstitious Paula places her written wishes. As an only daughter now in her thirties, she trusts her economic present and future in her work in Finance, something that Paula clearly notices not working out for her daughter. But Flores doesn’t want to hear about it, much less from her mother, whom she loves but with whom she hasn’t built an intimate, trusting relationship as she had with Martin. Paula has found solace in her work at a convenience store and is trying to figure out who is she, if not a wife and a needed mother. Both mother and daughter use work as an anchor and to distract themselves from Martin's absence in their Brooklyn apartment. It’s been three years since Martin’s death, and now they are being asked to move out. Without Martin’s mediation to smooth Paula and Flores's crashing personalities, how can they find a way to keep this family of two together? 

Melissa Rivero has written a novel in which daughter-versus-mother conflicts take an intimate, genuine, and entertaining turn. As each situation propels a memory, and as each chapter keeps you going, you see the questions the novel brings you: Can daughters listen? Can mothers understand?

The story is narrated from two alternating perspectives: Flores and Paula. In Flores’s chapters, the point of view is from Flores’s first person, where she describes relatable, ridiculous, and men-centered workplace uncomfortable situations and keeps us holding our breath with what’s going to happen next with the startup company and how that will affect her. Flores transmits the pressure children face to validate their parents' decision to immigrate through their achievements in life. 

Another engaging aspect is Flores's feelings of not being Peruvian enough because she wasn't born there, and her Peruvian identity is questioned because she doesn’t speak Spanish fluently: “Max was all about us meeting because Vicky was Peruana Peruana according to him—born there, like su madre, su padre, sus abuelas, sus bisabuelas, sus tatarabuelas, and so on and so forth back to the Incas or something. …. Does she speak Quechua? I remember asking, as if I did.”


Paula's chapters, on the other hand, are told in the second person, as if she’s talking in her head to Flores—maybe telling her what she can’t say face to face. But for readers, it feels like we are Flores, and we can hear our mother's inner thoughts about us, their children, but also how they feel about love and life as women. Paula does sound like a mother but surprisingly more like a woman who is able to finally ask herself what she wants to do with her life. 

Melissa Rivero has written a novel in which daughter-versus-mother conflicts take an intimate, genuine, and entertaining turn. As each situation propels a memory, and as each chapter keeps you going, you see the questions the novel brings you: Can daughters listen? Can mothers understand? Can Paula and Flores find a way to meet without a bridge to connect them among cultural and generational gaps? Since Flores and Paula are facing moving out after over thirty years from their Brooklyn apartment, filled with Martin’s memories and Flores’ only home, readers want to know what’s next now that the past is gone and the future awaits. A novel definitely in tune with life after death and immigration in ever-changing New York. 


Natalia Chamorro, a Peruvian-born writer based in New York, brings a unique perspective to her writing as a poet, immigrant, and academic passionate about the intersection of art and activism. Her work has been featured in publications such as Latino Book Review, Contrapuntos, and Nueva York Poetry Review, among others. She holds a Ph.D. in Hispanic Languages and Literature from Stony Brook University and has been supported by the Herstory Writers Network for her nonfiction literary writing. Her poem “Aria” was chosen for the New York City International Book Fair Anthology, followed by the publication of her debut book of poems, Reflejo escaparate, with Sudaquia Editores in 2023.




Book Review: 'The House on Biscayne Bay' by Chanel Cleeton

Content Warning: Murder and blood.


You know about it, don’t you? That old majestic, deserted house in that one neighborhood – that one that you drive past because you can’t help but be scenic - that you can’t help by stare at. It pulls you in like a whisper calling your name. Who used to live here? Why has it been abandoned? Did something happen here? 

Now imagine that house on the sunny bay in Miami, only it’s the beginning of World War II and you’re a recently arrived transplant after having lost your parents in a terrible drowning accident. And your estranged sister is the one currently living in that statuesque house. That is only just the surface of what Carmen Acosta, the eighteen-year-old just arriving from Cuba, has to scratch in The House on Biscayne Bay

Chanel Cleeton, famous for her binge-worthy romances, has gone gothic in her latest atmospheric novel. With two mysteries set between interwoven timelines, it is a novel that will grip you just by the name of the glamourous manor where the story takes place – Marbrisa. But for a place just as beautiful as Marbrisa, secrets, tragedy, and death hide behind her walls. After all, for all of her beauty, there is an ugly that can only come with it. 

Cleeton has done what only a few in the mystery and thrillers genre could do for me, and that is keep me reading into the night...

Those secrets rest with Anna Barnes, the woman who was gifted Marbrisa by her wealthy industrialist husband, Robert. Having moved to South Florida after the Great Depression, they set for a place to call home. But what is this feeling that Anna has within her about her new home? And with appearing to have it all, she only knows that one scandal can change everything. And when Carmen moves in just two decades after, can she solve all of Marbrisa’s mysteries and stop history from repeating itself, or is history just a preview of what is doomed to be repeated? 

Cleeton has done what only a few in the mystery and thrillers genre could do for me, and that is keep me reading into the night, well past my usual bedtime. With the various players that come into play throughout both timelines - and what I have learned from the various thrillers I’ve read - I really just felt like I couldn’t trust anyone. What Cleeton does best in all of her works is that she knows how to set the mood and paint a picture so vivid that you just can’t help but feel as if you’ve been transported into the story. The mix of historic Miami, the family dynamic between the sisters, and the mystery of the great manor just pulled me in. 

Besides the usual aspects that come with thrillers, one of the themes that really plays into the story is the loss of Carmen’s parents, something that I feel that Cleeton nailed perfectly. As someone who has lost a parent, I reflected very well with Carmen and her feelings. The loss of her parents was something that came out of nowhere, and because it was unexpected, she doesn’t know how to feel. A line that stuck out to me and I believe Cleeton captures all of those feelings perfectly was, “Grief is changeable, capricious, and cruel.” A simple sentence, just one that even if simple is just enough to tell the story of what the feeling is. 

With her latest novel, Chanel Cleeton has delivered. The story starts off right with a bang and before you know it, it has its hold on you with the feelings that you can’t put the book down. If you’re already a fan, you can rest assured that even if you’re not a fan of thrillers, Cleeton will not let you down, telling this story in a way that only she can. For those seeking out a beach read that will have you craving spooky season, gather up that tote bag, and let The House on Biscayne Bay grip you.  


Joseph De La Cruz (He/Him) is an Oakland native and graduate of San Francisco State University with a major in Creative Writing. A lover of Pop music (Britney over Christina, anyday), Disney, pepperoni pizza, and iced coffee, you can find him at the romance section of any bookstore, waiting for his very own meetcute to happen. You can find him on Instagram @princetonboy915 (Yes, it is a reference to that movie!) 






Latinx Book Editors You Should Know

Contrary to popular belief, publishing is so much more than just the authors and illustrators. A whole set of people works behind the scenes to make sure we, the readers, get great books.

We wanted to spotlight these book publishing professionals, starting with editors. Continue reading for a list of Latinx editors currently accepting submissions. 

 

Kiara Valdez, Editor, First Second

Kiara Valdez (she/her) is an Afro-Dominican writer and an editor at First Second, Macmillan. She was born and raised in New York City and has been an avid comics reader all her life. She graduated from Williams College with a double major in English Literature and Japanese, and spends her free time reading, writing, and enjoying various hobbies.

She is only looking for graphic novels and is mostly focused on middle grade and young adult. She is open to all genres but is especially interested in magical realism, memoir, #ownvoices stories (especially those from Latinx and Black creators), and stories with LGBTQ+ characters and romance. She likes stories that feel contemporary, real, and are grounded in our world regardless of the genre. 

Find more information about her manuscript wishlist here

 

Nicole Luongo, Editor, Park Row Books

Nicole Luongo (she/her) is an editor at Park Row Books, HarperCollins. Nicole joined the Park Row team in 2021, after interning at Foundry Literary & Media, Pegasus Books, Blair Publishing, and Mango Publishing. She has a Joint Honors B.A. in English Literature and International Development, with a minor in Spanish, from McGill University. 

On the fiction side, Nicole is drawn to voice-driven, contemporary upmarket “book club” fiction featuring strong female protagonists, psychological thrillers that subvert the genre (i.e. unreliable female narrators, female perpetrators, etc.), select coming-of-age stories and select historical fiction, with an emphasis across all genres on amplifying underrepresented voices. While she doesn’t acquire genre fiction, she loves genre-adjacent fiction—speculative fiction, magical realism (especially those based on cultural folklore), feminist dystopian, etc. In the nonfiction space, Nicole is drawn to standout, accessible narrative nonfiction and compelling memoirs geared towards a female readership. 

Read her full manuscript wishlist here

 

Jenny Lopez, Assistant Editor, Sourcebooks Fire and Sourcebooks Young Readers

Jenny Lopez (she/her) is the assistant editor at Sourcebooks Fire and Sourcebooks Young Readers. She believes that stories hold so much power—to connect, to save, and to change us for the better. 

Jenny is currently looking to acquire middle grade and young adult novels and is passionate about working with BIPOC and traditionally marginalized creators. Because of her background and identities, she is especially excited to acquire stories from queer and Latinx/Latine voices!

Overall, she is interested in diverse and inclusive stories across all genres. Jenny loves stories with complex characters, immersive worldbuilding, and has a soft spot for anything speculative—especially fantasy and horror.

Read the specifics on her manuscript wishlist here

 

Nadxieli Nieto, Executive Editor, Flatiron Books

Nadxieli Nieto (she/they) is an executive editor at Flatiron Books, Macmillan. She edits literary and upmarket fiction, select nonfiction, and art books. She is also the former director of PEN America's Literary Awards and is on the board of Latinx in Publishing.

She is currently looking for upmarket and literary fiction, YA, and select nonfiction, with a focus on work by Latinx authors and BIPoC. Nadxieli is drawn to innovative, language-driven work in fiction, often with weird or speculative elements, and idea-driven, researched nonfiction on culture, feminism, immigration, and the environment. She is not currently seeking memoirs.

For more information on her manuscript wishlist, visit her website

 

Crystal Castro, Assistant Editor, Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Crystal Castro (she/her) is an Assistant Editor at  Little, Brown Books for Young Readers, Hachette Book Group. She is currently seeking MG and YA titles for her list, specifically thrillers, mysteries, horror, fantasy, and adventure. Crystal is drawn to character-driven narratives and voicey manuscripts where she can get a sense of the main character’s personality from the first page. She is also looking for debut projects from BIPOC authors, hoping to bring more Puerto Rican voices to her imprint. 

Read her detailed manuscript wishlist here

 

Toni Kirkpatrick, Senior Acquisitions Editor, Crooked Lane Books / Alcove Press

Toni Kirkpatrick began her publishing career at St. Martin’s Press, where she worked for more than a decade acquiring crime and other commercial fiction. She joined Crooked Lane Books and Alcove Press in 2019. She serves on the board of Latinx in Publishing.

For Crooked Lane: She is looking for clever traditional mysteries that may or may not lend themselves to punny titles, grittier mysteries, noir, suspense, and thrillers. She is intrigued by crime fiction that explores social issues or moral questions.

For Alcove Press: She is looking for book club fiction that is sexy, humorous, and/or haunting. She would love to find stories that highlight contemporary women’s issues, family dynamics, friendship, motherhood, and the immigrant or multicultural experience.

Visit the Crooked Lane Books website to read more about her manuscript wishlist. 


Elizabeth Cervantes is a proud Mexican book lover. She has a bachelor’s in Multimedia Journalism from the University of Texas at El Paso and is currently working on obtaining her master’s in Publishing at Pace University. When she is not studying and reading for her classes, you can find her crying, swooning, or locking her doors while reading children’s books, romance novels, and mysteries/thrillers.

6 Latinx Books to Read This Pride Month

Happy Pride Month! Celebrate with us by reading one of these amazing titles featuring LGBTQIA+ characters written by Latinx members of the LGBTQIA+ community. Make sure to add the rest to your TBR list to read later, because we should be reading LGBTQIA+ literature all year round. 

 

When We Love Someone We Sing to Them: Cuando Amamos Cantamos by Ernesto Javier Martínez|Illustrated by Maya Christina Gonzalez|Translated by Jorge Gabriel Martínez Feliciano

When We Love Someone We Sing to Them is a bilingual picture book about the Mexican tradition of singing to family and loved ones and a young boy who asks his father if there is a song for a boy who loves a boy. Reframing a treasured cultural tradition, this story perfectly brings tradition and inclusion into the conversation.

 

The One Who Loves You the Most by medina

I have never felt like I belonged to my body. Never in the way rhythm belongs to a song or waves belong to an ocean.

It seems like most people figure out where they belong by knowing where they came from. When they look in the mirror, they see their family in their eyes, in their sharp jawlines, in the texture of their hair. When they look at family photos, they see faces of people who look like them. They see faces of people who they'll look like in the future.

For me, I only have my imagination.

But I'm always trying.

Twelve-year-old Gabriela is trying to find their place in the world. In their body, which feels less and less right with each passing day. As an adoptee, in their all-white family. With their mom, whom they love fiercely and do anything they can to help with her depression. And at school, where they search for friends.

A new year will bring a school project, trans and queer friends, and a YouTube channel that help Gabriela find purpose in their journey. 

 

This Is Me Trying by Racquel Marie

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

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

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

 

The Luis Ortega Survival Club by Sonora Reyes 

Ariana Ruiz wants to be noticed. But as an autistic girl who never talks, she goes largely ignored by her peers—despite her bold fashion choices. So when cute, popular Luis starts to pay attention to her, Ari finally feels seen.

Luis’s attention soon turns to something more, and they have sex at a party—while Ari didn’t say no, she definitely didn’t say yes. Before she has a chance to process what happened and decide if she even has the right to be mad at Luis, the rumor mill begins churning—thanks, she’s sure, to Luis’s ex-girlfriend, Shawni. Boys at school now see Ari as an easy target, someone who won’t say no. 

Then Ari finds a mysterious note in her locker that eventually leads her to a group of students determined to expose Luis for the predator he is. To her surprise, she finds genuine friendship among the group, including her growing feelings for the very last girl she expected to fall for. But in order to take Luis down, she’ll have to come to terms with the truth of what he did to her that night—and risk everything to see justice done.

 

A Tiny Piece of Something Greater by Jude Sierra

Reid Watsford has a lot of secrets and a past he can’t quite escape. While staying at his grandmother’s condo in Key Largo, he signs up for introductory dive classes, where he meets Joaquim Oliveira, a Brazilian dive instructor with wanderlust. Driven by an instant, magnetic pull, what could have been just a hookup quickly deepens. As their relationship evolves, they must learn to navigate the challenges of Reid’s mental illness—on their own and with each other.

 

Cantoras by Carolina de Robertis

In 1977 Uruguay, a military government crushed political dissent with ruthless force. In this environment, where the everyday rights of people are under attack, homosexuality is a dangerous transgression to be punished. And yet Romina, Flaca, Anita "La Venus," Paz, and Malena—five cantoras, women who "sing"—somehow, miraculously, find one another. Together, they discover an isolated, nearly uninhabited cape, Cabo Polonio, which they claim as their secret sanctuary. Over the next thirty-five years, their lives move back and forth between Cabo Polonio and Montevideo, the city they call home, as they return, sometimes together, sometimes in pairs, with lovers in tow, or alone. And throughout, again and again, the women will be tested—by their families, lovers, society, and one another—as they fight to live authentic lives.

Cantoras is a breathtaking portrait of queer love, community, forgotten history, and the strength of the human spirit.


Elizabeth Cervantes is a proud Mexican book lover. She has a bachelor’s in Multimedia Journalism from the University of Texas at El Paso and is currently working on obtaining her master’s in Publishing at Pace University. When she is not studying and reading for her classes, you can find her crying, swooning, or locking her doors while reading children’s books, romance novels, and mysteries/thrillers.

Book Review: ‘The Blue Mimes’ by Sara Daniele Rivera 

Our memories are often stories we’ve been told or we tell ourselves. They are translations that can become mistranslated, skewed perspectives that warp as time passes. Upon losing a loved one, these unreliable recollections can transform into dark, murky waves of grief painful to wade through. In her debut collection, Sara Daniele Rivera plunges into the depths of sorrowful absence, exploring the salience of mortality, malleable memories, survival, and uncertainty that emerge in the face of earth-shattering losses. Out of the rubble rises a marvelous mosaic of bilingual, elegiac poems grounded in the physical landscapes of mountains, oceans, and deserts that The Blue Mimes illustrates. 

Beginning with poems of memory and political instability, Rivera seems to focus on the world’s fraying connections — specifically in the time between the 2016 presidential election and the COVID-19 pandemic — alongside the meditation of personal rifts created by catastrophic grief. She vividly exhibits moments of hopelessness and the ways in which a bereaved person approximates their former selves at an attempt at survival. The poems often feel like puzzle pieces of fragmented memories that interlock to paint a larger story of losing family members, survival, and acceptance of the often frightening idea of death. The Blue Mimes expertly weaves a plethora of ruminations — seemingly about community during grief, cultural influence and un-belonging, the boundaries of language, migration, assimilation, separation, absence, and more — together to allow the possibility of healing. 

Rivera pens this collection with a talent for evocative imagery, surprising cleverness, and acute self-awareness. As an artist and a fiction writer, she skillfully paints beautiful scenes of natural elements and landscapes, transporting readers to the boulders, beaches, bodies of water, and various places in Albuquerque, Lima, and Havana, all equally light and dark. In an interview with reviewer Paul Semel, Rivera discusses how she kept coming across various types of absences, even those losses found in assimilation, in not remembering words and in the words that were never taught to you. “I was interested in the things we say and can’t say and choose never to say, and how we attempt to make sense of those silences,” the author wrote in the email interview. A winner of the Academy of American Poets First Book Award, The Blue Mimes is a poignant collection written through the waves of grief and during a tumultuous period in Rivera’s personal life. These are poems ultimately written in the search for resolve. 

The Blue Mimes examines how we move on and come to terms with mortality and irrevocable change, and how to find stability, love, acceptance, and ourselves when the earth cracks open beneath us.

Within the caverns of these poems, Rivera seems to circle the inability to accurately describe the profundity of absence and loss despite knowing two languages. She progresses through memory and feelings of instability to arrive at an understanding of the human condition. The complexity found at the intersection of grief and Latinx identities may be the most interesting about this collection. There appears to be an overwhelming attempt to grapple with losing lineage, family history, and sense of identity upon the loss of an immigrant parent. Rivera’s poems beautifully memorialize loved ones while acknowledging the survival, self-growth, change, and continuation of life during mourning.

The Blue Mimes examines how we move on and come to terms with mortality and irrevocable change, and how to find stability, love, acceptance, and ourselves when the earth cracks open beneath us. Rivera seems to focus on accepting that we are born from struggle, loss, and hardship, carrying the archeology of our loved ones with us as the earth heals the spaces and cracks they left behind.


Lorraine Olaya is a Colombian-American writer, editor, and poet born and raised in Queens, New York. She is a recent graduate from New York University with a B.A. in English and minors in Creative Writing and French. Often drawing inspiration from Latina writers such as Gloria Muñoz, Rio Cortez, Sandra Cisneros, and more, Lorraine’s work explores the experiences of the Latine diaspora, focusing on dual identity, culture, community, first-generation struggle, immigration, and familial love. Her poetry has been previously published in The Roadrunner Review, Laurel Moon Magazine, Drunken Boat Magazine, The Acentos Review, Esferas Undergraduate Journal, and elsewhere.

Best Books of the Year (So Far) According to Latinx in Publishing.

 

The halfway mark of 2024 is here! So many great books have come out this year, and we are excited to share some of our top picks as we approach summer. Be sure to add these to your TBR!

The Things We Didn't Know by Elba Iris Pérez | ADULT FICTION

"Pérez's debut novel will resonate with readers who grew up in two worlds and tried to find stability in both.  From Massachusetts to Puerto Rico and back again, her young heroine Andrea struggles with identity, gender roles, and the angst of growing up.  Not to mention family dramas galore, betrayals and prejudice for being a brown family in a white town. The writing is authentic and engrossing."

--Maria Ferrer, Events Director

 

Anita de Monte Laughs Last by Xochitl Gonzalez | ADULT FICTION


"Anita de Monte is a talented Latina artist breaking through the white, male-centered New York art world of the 1980s (inspired by the true tragic story of Cuban-born artist Ana Mendieta). Raquel Toro is a first gen Puerto Rican college student at Brown nearly two decades later. With two timelines and multiple POVs, readers will connect with these  two women facing parallel questions about who belongs and who gets to tell their stories."

--Stefanie Sanchez Von Borstel, Fellowship Director

 

The Great Divide by Cristina Henriquez | ADULT FICTION

"This is a gorgeous, important historical novel about the construction of the Panama Canal, but more deeply about progress and humanity and where the two meet. Henríquez's prose swept me up and her characters enthralled me to the very end."

--Toni Kirkpatrick, Board Secretary

 

The Bullet Swallower by Elizabeth Gonzalez James | ADULT FICTION


"There are various hard-won lessons I learned in reading this sprawling family saga in the dead of winter (for Los Angeles standards), though I mentally spent most of it in the oppressive desert heat of Mexico and Texas with El Tragabalas, strapped onto a horse of some kind. This is a book that pointedly asks how -- and when -- do we pay for our ancestral sins? The Bullet Swallower almost has you believe you can outrun fate, just because there are so many close calls."

--Andrea Morales, Fellowship and Writers Mentorship Director

Author-Illustrator Interview: ‘The Mango Tree’ by Edel Rodriguez

On an island lush with plants and small homes is a towering mango tree. Two boys grasp onto its branches. They spend a lot of time in and around this tree, flying kites from it and building a birdhouse within it. They even take naps here. The mango is their constant – their happy place.

Then one day, a storm tears through the island. It uproots the mango tree, and with it one of the boys. Soon he is forced on a journey into an unfamiliar land.

From internationally renowned artist Edel Rodriguez comes The Mango Tree, a wordless picture book that is largely inspired by his own childhood experience as a Cuban immigrant. Like the boys he features in his book, Rodriguez also has a best friend named Osledy who he spent days with in a mango tree they shared back in Cuba. “The tree’s large, shady canopy became our clubhouse,” Rodriguez writes in his author’s note.

The Mango Tree itself takes on a fantastical lens – complete with sea creatures and an intriguing new home for the boy who was swept away. It is an otherworldly, curious ride.

In anticipation of his recent book release from Abrams Books for Young Readers, Rodriguez spoke with Latinx in Publishing about his real childhood best friend, the symbolism behind the mango tree, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo (AC): Congratulations on The Mango Tree. I understand this story was largely inspired by your childhood and the times you spent with your best friend, Osledy. Can you tell us more?

Edel Rodriguez (ER): He was my next-door neighbor. We shared what’s called a solar in Spanish; the backyard was shared by my house, his house, and my grandmother’s house. We were just always in the backyard playing, climbing trees, going on the roof or around the fields in town. We had kind of a free-for-all as kids in Cuba. Parents, at that time, just let you roam around. So at a very young age, we were going all over the place, making toys out of whatever we found. I think it did help me become a creative person, because I was very inventive from a young age. 

The interesting thing between me and him is that I was always the more careful one – or not as crazy. And Osledy was always like, ‘Let’s do that. Let’s jump off that thing. Let’s do this.’ He almost got me in trouble a few times. We’re still friends. And he’s still like that. That’s his personality.

AC: In your book we meet two boys on a small island who spend their days in a mango tree. The tree is their constant. They eat the mangoes, fly kites from atop the tree and more. Does the mango tree symbolize anything to you in this story?

ER: It’s something that has roots, so it has that feel of the roots of our friendship. It’s something that grew with us, and then at some point I had to leave. So I floated away. [In the book] it’s a planter where the tree grew, but then it becomes a boat where I get pushed out to sea and I leave the country.

But it’s like our home. It’s the idea that you have to leave behind or be separated by things that are out of your control. Once I left Cuba, I tried to stay in touch with him as much as possible. He’s still my best friend. We didn’t see each other for 14 years, so we stayed in touch through letters. But it was this one time where we had sort of this idyllic place that we hung out in. And after that, it all kind of ended after I left. And after the storm happened [in the book], we never really had that again. 

So I was trying to encapsulate that feeling when you have a special place with your best friend. Sometimes it’s a very small window of time, and then you either grow up or you leave, or something happens that changes that. But for some time, it was like our own little private club where we could just have fun.

Part of what I like about the idea that it’s wordless is that kids have to figure out the book as it goes along. And they themselves become active in figuring out the puzzle of what’s going to happen next as they’re looking at it.

AC: One of the boys is swept away in a storm and lands in a place that’s unfamiliar to him. It made me think about how change arrives in a child’s life. But children are so resilient. What does this change mean to your character?

ER: Part of what I like about the idea that it’s wordless is that kids have to figure out the book as it goes along. And they themselves become active in figuring out the puzzle of what’s going to happen next as they’re looking at it. For me, when I left Cuba it was very abrupt. We were just having a regular day. Everything was fine. And then suddenly, my parents decided we gotta get out of here. And from one day to the next, I basically lost my best friend. So I wanted to get that across: change can happen very fast. 

But then once you arrive in a new place, you try to look around you and use the tools that you know to adapt to whatever that place is. Especially kids, as you said, are very good at that. I did it by drawing things when I arrived in the United States. I couldn’t speak, so I would just draw what I wanted or what I wanted to say. In the book, this boy arrives with this mango and he shares it with the other kids as, ‘This is what I know.’ And then you start conversations, and the other kids give you something of theirs. Here in the United States, a lot of times it was toys. Someone that was from here would give me a Superman figure and I would say, ‘What is this? I don’t know what this is.’ I’d never seen Superman until I arrived here. So kids have conversations in that way.

AC: I did want to ask about your book being wordless. What was it like to approach the story this way? 

ER: You know when you’re in a place with your best friend often, you don’t really talk? You’re just kind of doing things, and there’s sort of a conversation that happens just by activities. Especially when you’re a kid, you’re not having deep conversations. You’re just having fun. And especially when you’re up on a tree, or in a jungle, you’re of like living in that space. It’s actually a very quiet place. So I wanted to create a book that did that. 

I had just written a graphic novel and I wanted to do something different – totally the other way. At first I considered having text through the pages and I had some text throughout. At some point I took it off, and the book became more magical when I did that. So I called my editor and I said, ‘You know, I think this is better without words.’ It felt even more special because you almost feel like you’re looking into the lives of these two little children, rather than reading about them. 

Generally when you’re reading something, the book is telling you what’s going on. Here you feel like you’re hovering above the jungle, just looking into these little kids playing and trying to figure out what it is that they’re doing. And eventually, every time you flip the page, you go ‘Oh, that’s what’s going on.’ And it makes you want to keep on going to try to figure out what the puzzle is. Whereas when you have the words, it’s telling you. So what I decided to do is basically take a lot of the text I had written and put it as the afterword at the end, so people get a bit more context about what was happening.

AC: You are an artist whose work has been exhibited internationally. Can you talk about how you approached your art for young readers in The Mango Tree? What, if anything, did you do differently?

ER: I remember when I arrived in this country, one of the first books that I remember reading was James and the Giant Peach [by Roald Dahl]. I didn’t really speak that much English, but I learned from it. And one of the things I liked about that book was this idea of adventure. That this kid is on a peach floating around [Laughs]. I’m like, I want to make something that would give kids that feeling that I got from that book. That you don't know what's going to happen next. Something crazy could happen. And that the kids themselves are running the show without any parental figure telling them what to do. I really like that. Often in children’s books there’s a lot of the relationship between the parent and the kids. And in this book, there are no parents. So that’s kind of fun. I always felt that it would be fun for a kid to open a book and they just see themselves. 

Also, a book that would have no relation to what our reality is here in America, in New York City, or in American cities. I wanted to create a bit of a fantasy world, especially as you go through the book and you get towards the end. It’s a total different planet, almost. Right with the plants and exotic things and trees. So something that felt a bit otherworldly I wanted to create for the readers.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from The Mango Tree?

ER: It’s about friendship. It’s the idea that friendships are important – friendships that you develop at a very young age, not friendships on the internet or social media, but actual people you spend time with and grow up with and just stay connected to. I’ve been friends with Osledy since I was a little kid. All through our life together, whenever I needed something for my family back in Cuba, he resolved it. He figured it out for my grandmother, whoever was left behind. Whenever his family needed something, I would help him out with that. He’s now in Miami, actually, with his family. 

Those are the connections that help you get through life; this idea that you treasure the people that you know and the friendships that you have. That’s how we get through life and we move forward. And hopefully the book has a bit of that. And also to not be afraid of something new, of a new place.


Image by Deborah Feingold

Edel Rodriguez is a Cuban American artist and author who has exhibited internationally with shows in Los Angeles, Toronto, New York, Dallas, Philadelphia, and Spain. He has received the Gold Medal from the Society of Illustrators and for many years was the art director of TIME magazine. Books he has illustrated include Song for Jimi: The Story of Guitar Legend Jimi Hendrix by Charles R. Smith Jr., Float Like a Butterfly by Ntozake Shange, Fascinating: The Life of Leonard Nimoy, and Sonia Sotomayor: A Judge Grows in the Bronx/La juez que crecio en el Bronx by Jonah Winter. Throughout his career, Rodriguez has received commissions to create artwork for numerous clients, including The New York Times, TIME magazine, The New Yorker, and many other publications and book publishers. Rodriguez’s artwork is in the collections of a variety of institutions, including the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, DC, as well as in numerous private collections. He lives with his wife and daughter in New Jersey.





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: Barrio Rising: The Protest That Built Chicano Park by María Dolores Águila

In Barrio Rising: The Protest That Built Chicano Park, a girl named Elena is walking with her mom to their local tiendita for some masa and corn husks. On the way, they bump into a neighbor who has sketched the Coronado Bridge stretching over the bay from Barrio Logan – one of San Diego’s older Mexican American communities. A diesel truck passing by leaves behind clouds of dust.

Later, as they pass by a junkyard and get barked at by dogs, Elena’s mother stops and says, “Be brave, Elena – sé valiente.”

It’s this bravery that Elena and her community must later channel when they discover that the park they had been promised by the city would instead become a California Highway Patrol station. Barrio Rising is a historical fiction picture book about one community’s twelve-day land occupation and resistance in April 1970 that led to the creation of a colorful park below criss-crossing freeway overpasses. Written by debut author María Dolores Águila and illustrated by Magdalena Mora, the duo beautifully captures the fight and tremendous heart of an often-ignored community. Barrio Rising will be released on June 18 from Dial Books for Young Readers. Its Spanish version – El barrio se levanta: La protesta que construyó el Parque Chicano – was translated by David Bowles and will be released simultaneously.

Águila, a Chicana poet and writer from San Diego, grew up a few miles from Chicano Park – which features Chicano murals, sculptures, picnic tables and playgrounds. “And I always passed by the murals (in the park), but I never connected how and why they got there,” she told Latinx in Publishing. “It just never occurred to me.”

Then one day, a mural caught Águila’s eye. What followed was a years-long obsession to learn everything she could about Chicano Park. The fruits of that research and curiosity would eventually form Barrio Rising: The Protest That Built Chicano Park.

Ahead of the book’s release, Latinx in Publishing spoke with Águila about the inspiration behind Barrio Rising, what it was like to portray an ignored community on the page, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo (AC): Congratulations on Barrio Rising. What inspired you to write this story?

María Dolores Águila (MDÁ): That’s one of the questions that I get the most and I think it’s one of the hardest to answer, because I can’t tell you a singular reason of why I wrote the story. The short answer would be that I live less than five miles away from Chicano Park and I’ve lived here for the majority of my life. I’ve driven by Chicano Park thousands of times. My father worked in the tuna canneries when they were there in Barrio Logan. I used to go to the community health center there. And I always passed by the murals, but I never connected how and why they got there. It just never occurred to me. 

My mother-in-law lives in Barrio Logan and one day we were driving by (the park). And for some reason, the mural of Laura Rodriguez caught my eye. I don’t know why. It sparked something. I looked up her story, which was incredible by the way. Her entire story is like a real-life Cinderella, mariposa del barrio story. After that, it became like an obsession. For close to half a decade, I chased down every scrap of information that I could find about Chicano Park by visiting the park, going to the events, listening to speakers, watching movies. When I finally had a full understanding, it was like, Oh, my God. I have to write about this. People should know what happened here.

In a lot of ways, I wrote it for myself, because I’m a Chicana kid that grew up next to Chicano Park that didn’t know how to get there. After I figured out what had transpired, I was like, No. This has to be a story. People have to know. The world has to know what happened. Because I feel so often, as Latinas in the United States, we’re made to seem like we don’t have a history – that we’re very recent arrivals. But that’s not true. We have a very long history, and there have been a lot of things in our community that people have fought for but they’ve been buried.

AC: In your book we meet two Barrio Logan residents -- a mother and daughter -- walking near the Coronado Bridge. Almost immediately, readers can detect that this area is neglected. What was it like to portray an ignored community on the page for young readers?

MDÁ: For me, it was just portraying my own lived experience. I live in National City, which is directly south of Barrio Logan, and we have many of the same issues. We have the same issues of air pollution and heavy industry mixed in with residential areas. And even though I live in a bayfront community and Barrio Logan is a bayfront community – we’re literally on the bay – we really don’t have beach access. So this is something that I’ve lived. It wasn’t something that I had to really dig deep to find.

Our stories are still meaningful, still beautiful, and still worthy, even if the institutions around us have not been supporting us the way that they should have.

When I see other people that haven’t lived that kind of experience, they tend to portray those communities as just simply downtrodden – like there’s no glimmer of hope. The one thing that I did want to portray is that these communities have grown roses in concrete. Our stories are still meaningful, still beautiful, and still worthy, even if the institutions around us have not been supporting us the way that they should have. There’s still a lot of joy and beauty. Even though the area and the schools might not be great, there’s still a lot of really great things about where I live and about Barrio Logan. I think Magdalena did a lot of the heavy lifting with the illustrations in that aspect.

AC: You beautifully capture a close-knit Mexican American community throughout the book with your text with Spanish sprinkled in, and illustrator Magdalena Mora, like you just mentioned, with her gentle illustrations featuring parts of the culture like food. What was it like working with Magdalena? Were there specific suggestions you had for her to portray this time in the community’s history accurately?

MDÁ: I was actually really hands off because I wanted Magdalena to bring her own vision without me influencing it, as much as possible. I was beyond honored that Magdalena agreed to collaborate on Barrio Rising with me because her body of work is really incredible. I think the amazing thing about picture books is how two artistic mediums come together – the words and the art – to tell a singular story. My editor, Rosie Ahmed from Dial, did ask me if there were any particular images that I liked. And I did send her some. There was one of a girl holding a pickaxe. She was a young girl. And I don’t know why that image stuck with me. I sent it to Rosie, who sent it to Magdalena.

I just stayed hands off as much as possible because I wanted her to do her thing, and bring what she has to bring to the story. I pretty much wrote the story without outside influence, and I wanted Magdalena to have that freedom without me hovering around. When I finally saw the art, I knew that I had made the right decision because she brought in things that I hadn’t even thought of – things that would have never occurred to me because my brain doesn’t work that way. I was just so happy when I saw the illustrations.

AC: Even though this is a fictionalized account of the story behind San Diego's Chicano Park, you feature real residents and even a local councilman who played key roles in its creation. What was your research like while working on this book?

MDÁ: I love to do research, so for me it’s always like the most enjoyable part of the process. I did the usual things: I hunted down newspaper articles, I read academic articles, I read books. I read the applications that they filled out to make Chicano Park a cultural heritage site. And Chicano Park themselves have a website, so I read all that. 

In my research, I had come across this thesis entitled “Singing the Great Depression: Mexican and Mexican American Perspectives Through Corridos” by Michelle Salinas, where she describes how Mexican and Mexican American communities have traditionally expressed information and history through alternative mediums like songs and art. So I did all the usual things, but I also listened to songs. There’s a song called “Chicano Park Samba” by Los Alacranes Mojados and they sing about the history of Chicano Park. There’s also two murals at the park called La Tierra Mia and Chicano Park Takeover, and that has the history in images. So I studied those as well.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from Barrio Rising?

MDÁ: More than anything, I want young readers to find power within themselves and their communities. I want them to know that Latine communities have a long history of resistance and resilience, and that together we can accomplish our wildest dreams. I want them to see themselves in Elena and I want them to be inspired to make the changes that we need in our communities.


María Dolores Águila is a Chicana poet and writer from San Diego, California. Deeply inspired by Chicane history and art, she seeks to write empowering and inclusive stories about everything she learns. She also loves drinking coffee, browsing the bookshelves at her local library, and spending time with her family.

 

Magdalena Mora is an illustrator, designer, and art educator based in Minneapolis and Chicago. Her work has been recognized by The New York Times, The American Library Association, and The Chicago Public Library, among others.

 

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.

5 Latinx Books Showcasing Supportive Father Figures

With Father’s Day just around the corner, reflecting on the father figures in our lives is inevitable. Here is a list of books that show the beautiful, and sometimes complex, relationships we have with them. 

 

My Papi Has a Motorcycle by Isabel Quintero|Illustrated by Zeke Peña 

When Daisy Ramona zooms around her neighborhood with her papi on his motorcycle, she sees the people and places she's always known. She also sees a community that is rapidly changing around her.

But as the sun sets purple-blue-gold behind Daisy Ramona and her papi, she knows that the love she feels will always be there.

With vivid illustrations and text bursting with heart, My Papi Has a Motorcycle is a young girl's love letter to her hardworking dad and to memories of home that we hold close in the midst of change.

 

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

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

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

 

Stef Soto, Taco Queen by Jennifer Torres

Tacos. Burritos. Guacamole. Estefania "Stef" Soto is itching to shake off the onion-and-cilantro embrace of Tia Perla, her family's taco truck. Although Papi is always ready to comfort her with his food, Stef wants nothing more than for him to get a normal job and for the taco truck to be a distant memory. Then maybe everyone at school will stop calling her the Taco Queen.

But when her family's livelihood is threatened, and it looks like her wish will finally come true, Stef surprises everyone (including herself) by becoming the truck's unlikely champion. In this fun and heartfelt novel, Stef will discover what matters most and ultimately embrace her identity, even if it includes old Tia Perla.

 

Ander & Santi Were Here by Jonny Garza Villa

Finding home. Falling in love. Fighting to belong.

The Santos Vista neighborhood of San Antonio, Texas, is all Ander Martínez has ever known. The smell of pan dulce. The mixture of Spanish and English filling the streets. And, especially their job at their family's taquería. It's the place that has inspired Ander as a muralist, and, as they get ready to leave for art school, it's all of these things that give them hesitancy. That give them the thought, are they ready to leave it all behind?

To keep Ander from becoming complacent during their gap year, their family "fires" them so they can transition from restaurant life to focusing on their murals and prepare for college. That is, until they meet Santiago López Alvarado, the hot new waiter. Falling for each other becomes as natural as breathing. Through Santi's eyes, Ander starts to understand who they are and want to be as an artist, and Ander becomes Santi's first steps toward making Santos Vista and the United States feel like home.

Until ICE agents come for Santi, and Ander realizes how fragile that sense of home is. How love can only hold on so long when the whole world is against them. And when, eventually, the world starts to win.

Featuring a dad who undoubtedly supports his children’s preferences and decisions, Ander & Santi Were Here will warm up your heart this Father’s Day. 

 

The House of Broken Angels by Luis Alberto Urrea

"All we do, mija, is love. Love is the answer. Nothing stops it. Not borders. Not death."

In his final days, beloved and ailing patriarch Miguel Angel de La Cruz, affectionately called Big Angel, has summoned his entire clan for one last legendary birthday party. But as the party approaches, his mother, nearly one hundred, dies, transforming the weekend into a farewell doubleheader. Among the guests is Big Angel's half brother, known as Little Angel, who must reckon with the truth that although he shares a father with his siblings, he has not, as a half gringo, shared a life.

Across two bittersweet days in their San Diego neighborhood, the revelers mingle among the palm trees and cacti, celebrating the lives of Big Angel and his mother, and recounting the many inspiring tales that have passed into family lore, the acts both ordinary and heroic that brought these citizens to a fraught and sublime country and allowed them to flourish in the land they have come to call home.


Elizabeth Cervantes is a proud Mexican book lover. She has a bachelor’s in Multimedia Journalism from the University of Texas at El Paso and is currently working on obtaining her master’s in Publishing at Pace University. When she is not studying and reading for her classes, you can find her crying, swooning, or locking her doors while reading children’s books, romance novels, and mysteries/thrillers.

Book Review: Immortal Pleasures by V. Castro

V. Castro is a Chicana from San Antonio, Texas, who now lives in London, England, and is a two-time Bram Stoker award nominee. Being fascinated by Mexican folklore and Texas urban legends, it’s no surprise her writing reflects these inspirations while also putting her own edgy twist on such legends. 

Immortal Pleasures follows Malinalli, otherwise known as La Malinche, the Nahua translator for Hernan Cortés. History has her name and actions written down in infamy, but this novel tells her side of the story. She’s reborn as an immortal vampire and travels the world as an avenger for her people by reclaiming stolen artifacts to return them to their rightful home. However, she’s also in search of satisfying her desire for pleasure and love through two captivating men. In her travels to Dublin, Ireland for Aztec skulls that hold a personal history to her, enemies from her past begin to emerge. 

History has her name and actions written down in infamy, but this novel tells her side of the story.

When two people, or even items, whose side of history are overlooked by the majority, a bond between them becomes inevitable. It’s no wonder why Mali is in the line of work to find and return stolen artifacts to their home county, as she and these items have something in common: they are both misunderstood. How can the history and significance of a stolen artifact be appreciated and understood in foreign hands? How can anyone understand the hardships that she’s endured when she’s seen as a traitor first and a human second? Or understand her vampire self and all of its difficulties when she meets so few like her? Since Malinalli and these items are so misunderstood, a yearning for something familiar grows within them. If anything, it’s natural that they gravitate toward each other. Just as the artifacts receive what they’ve been looking for, so does Mali. When she meets a mysterious vampire and learns that his name is also written in infamy, she finds solace, and love, in another misunderstood person. 

Despite the many evils and atrocities of the world around her, Malinalli never loses her capacity for love, kindness, and desire. These affections can be seen as an act of resilience and rebellion but it’s simply that she never lost her humanity. Her romantic relationships, fleeting and not, show how she has evolved in her opinions on giving and receiving love and desire. Her human self was always under the order of the Spanish, “My only duty at this point in my life was to serve and never receive.” Now that she doesn’t have to fear the hands of her oppressors, she takes charge of her sexuality and allows herself to feel affection at its purest and in multiple ways. Being romantically involved with humans and vampires in various forms of commitment, she gets to explore the feelings that were once not an option for her. Mali gives and receives love and sex with whoever and however she pleases. 

V. Castro illustrates a wonderful twist and perspective on Doña Marina. When so many voices screamed La Malinche and traitor, Castro shines light on her name: Malinalli. Mali, who has endured many tragedies of history, who never fails to honor those who were kind to her, and who continues to retain her humanity in a world that tries to strip her of it. 


Melissa Gonzalez (she/her) is a UCLA graduate with a major in American Literature & Culture and a minor in Chicana/o & Central American Studies. She loves boba, horror movies, and reading. You can spot her in the fiction, horror/mystery/thriller, and young adult sections of bookstores. Though she is short, she feels as tall as her TBR pile. You can find Melissa on her book Instagram: @floralchapters