Blog — Latinx in Publishing

Amaris Castillo

Author Q&A: ‘Desert Song’ by Laekan Zea Kemp and Illustrated by Beatriz Gutiérrez Hernández

In the opening of the picture book, Desert Song, readers are brought into the harsh yet gorgeous desert landscape. A greater roadrunner looks into the distance, at the red-orange sun as it sets. There’s a row of distinct plants – prickly pear cacti among them. And nearby is a comfortable-looking house with a porch swing.

“The sun rules in the desert, telling us when to rise and when to sleep,” writes author Laekan Zea Kemp. “The sun sits atop the mountain while cracklings snap and hiss on the stove.”

Desert Song brings forth a story about the music that hums over one Texas desert night. The coyotes, cicadas and giant barn owls begin their song. And soon, the family in the big home joins in with music of their own. There’s Uncle Eduardo who drums his hands against his jeans, and the main character’s sister, Esme, who plays her maracas. Desert Song is both tender and larger-than-life; about the harmony between animals and humans, as well as the ancestral connections. Illustrations by Beatriz Gutiérrez Hernández are very detailed and breathe even more life to this story set in the desert.

Kemp spoke with Latinx in Publishing about the inspiration behind Desert Song (out now from Neal Porter Books), being in tune with nature, and more. Desert Song also has a Spanish-language edition that was simultaneously published, titled Canción del desierto.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo: Congratulations on Desert Song. What inspired this story?

Laekan Zea Kemp (LZK): With Desert Song, I really wanted to write a story about the feeling that I used to get (while) sitting on my grandparents’ back porch and looking up at the sky. They lived in a really small town, out in the country. West Texas is sort of known for our big skies and endless horizons. So originally, I just wanted to capture that feeling. But I wasn’t really sure how to construct a story around that. I was like, I think I need something a bit more dynamic

And so even though I was never in a family band growing up, my partner was. And so I took inspiration from that to create the musical component, and have this family band become part of those natural desert sounds until they form this sort of symphony together.

AC: You begin this story by stating that the “sun rules in the desert.” I love this line. When people think of a desert, oftentimes what comes to mind is dry, barren land due in large part to the sun. What made you want to start Desert Song with this bold declaration about the sun?

LZK: I think I wanted to establish, from the beginning, that this is a family that is very in tune with nature. They respect it, they take their cues from nature and really see themselves a part of it, as much as the other animals and plant life that are in the desert. And because the animals and plants in the desert are really subjected to the sun’s rule – I mean it really does impact everything about their lives and survival – I just wanted that line to set the tone for how this family follows these rhythms and cycles of nature as well.

AC: Your book is a very sensory tale, with words that describe sounds and the mention of different musical instruments. Readers will see how animals join the main character and his family’s song. What message do you want to send about the relationship between humans and animals through this book? 

LZK: I think it really goes back to that first line about the sun. I just really wanted to send the message that we are a part of nature. And more importantly, we’re not here to rule nature. We’re not just here to use it up as a resource. We’re here to commune with it. So as the sounds of the desert and the music the family is playing sort of become one over the course of the story, it’s meant to be this metaphor for being in harmony with the world around us. And how important and beautiful that is.

AC: In the book it is revealed that the family plays music for a very good reason. No spoilers, but it did make me think about one’s place in the world. It’s something that you address in your author’s note. Can you tell us more about that?

LZK: It’s kind of funny. I have several picture books forthcoming next year and the year after. And something that I realized as I’ve been talking about and promoting this particular book, is that I’m sort of a one-trick pony when it comes to picture books. [Laughs] I did not really do this on purpose, but I tend to write a lot about ancestors – especially in picture books. And just encouraging children to see themselves as part of something much larger. 

I think with Desert Song, just like this family band’s performance is an homage to their ancestors, this story was really an homage to mine and how I really do feel like they’re with me when I’m creating. And how, more than anything, I just really want my art to honor them and make them proud. It’s something I think about a lot, which is why I think it comes up in my work so much. It’s something that just gives me a great sense of responsibility, in terms of making sure that I live a fruitful life that will hopefully leave the world better than I found it. I just hope the story encourages readers to think of themselves as part of a legacy like that. And to remember that their life is adding another chapter to their own family’s history, and therefore it’s important to make it a good one.

I think the heart of this story is really the fact that we are not alone. Like I said, we are all part of something much bigger. And I really hope leaders feel encouraged to tap into that connection and the power that comes with it.

AC: How did you feel about the illustrations by Beatriz Gutiérrez Hernández and what do you think they added to the text?

LZK: They’re breathtaking, first and foremost. When it comes to picture books, one of my favorite parts of the entire process is being surprised by what the illustrator comes up with. I prefer to go in with zero expectations. I really don’t feel the need to be involved in that process at all. So I knew Beatriz was going to do an amazing job, but I was still blown away by the final product.

Not to get too technical, but I think one of the things that allows the text and the art to work so well together is not just the strengths of the text and the strengths of the illustrations, but also the choices that Beatriz and the design team made in terms of paginating – which is where you decide what text goes on what page and how scenes should be broken up to make room for the art, to provide that support or fill in those gaps. 

Personally, I don’t paginate when I’m writing. I write, especially picture books, more like a poem. I break things up into stanzas and then let the illustrator and design team make those choices. I think the magic lies a lot in those page turns, and the choices that were made there – and how those choices make the world expand over the course of those page turns. There’s just like this build-up in the illustrations until you get to this very awe-inspiring spread that shows the characters looking up at their ancestors in the sky. It’s just so moving and beautiful. I think this is a book that, if you like picture books that feel more like art pieces or something that feels like a collectible piece of art, this is a perfect book for you.

AC: What do you hope readers take away from Desert Song?

LZK: Because these messages are for children, I really hope that they feel powerful when they read Desert Song. I also hope that it makes them feel loved, and that could be by their ancestors, their families, even the world around them. I also hope it makes them curious about their connections to those things, and what they can do to make those connections stronger – whether that’s going on a walk in nature, or cooking a meal with the people they love, or just speaking to their ancestors more often when they need guidance. I think the heart of this story is really the fact that we are not alone. Like I said, we are all part of something much bigger. And I really hope leaders feel encouraged to tap into that connection and the power that comes with it.


Laekan Zea Kemp is a writer living in Austin, Texas. She is the author of Somewhere Between Bitter and Sweet, a 2022 Pura Belpré Honor recipient, and several novels, as well as a picture book, A Crown for Corina. She has three objectives when it comes to storytelling: to make people laugh, cry, and crave Mexican food. Her work celebrates Chicana grit, resilience, creativity, and joy while exploring themes of identity and mental health.

 

Beatriz Gutiérrez Hernández is an illustrator and animator born and raised in Guadalajara, Mexico. She graduated from Pratt Institute with a BFA in Communications Design and lived in Brooklyn, New York, for several years. She is the illustrator of Dreams from Many Rivers, written by Margarita Engle, and the author and illustrator of Benito Juárez Fights for Justice. She splits her time between New York and Mexico.

 


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: ‘Eloísa’s Musical Window’ by Margarita Engle and Illustrated by John Parra

In Eloísa’s Musical Window, we meet a young girl in a white dress and chancletas – with dark, chin-length hair adorned in a red bow. Her name is Eloísa, and she adores music.

But, as award-winning author Margarita Engle writes, Eloísa’s family was so poor that they could not afford a radio of their own. So Eloísa spends much of her time at home, by the window, listening to the music that floats in from a neighbor’s house. Adding to this music are the natural, wild melodies all around her Cuban town – from parrots and doves to songbirds.

The music is enough to make Eloísa want to dance, but she is shy. Unlike her Mamá, who would have gone outside to move to the rhythms. But Eloísa’s mother is sick with a mysterious illness.

Out now from Atheneum Books for Young Readers, Eloísa’s Musical Window is a tenderhearted story about a girl and her family finding joy in music. Featuring gorgeous illustrations by John Parra, the picture book was inspired by stories from Engle’s mother.

Engle spoke with Latinx in Publishing about her mother, who she dedicated Eloísa’s Musical Window to, writing about Cuba, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo: Congratulations on Eloísa’s Musical Window. I understand it is based on stories your mother told you. Can you tell us more about her?

Margarita Engle (ME): She’s 94 now and she has advanced Alzheimer’s at this point, so this was probably the last story about her childhood that she told me before she got very sick. 

She was born in the town of Trinidad, on the south central coast of Cuba. It’s a very old-fashioned town that has been preserved as a UNESCO World Heritage site. When my mother was a teenager, National Geographic had an article with photographs of her town. And my father, who was an artist in Los Angeles, saw the photographs and decided he wanted to go paint there. So he traveled to that town, which was actually very hard to reach at the time. They met on his first day there, which happened to be Valentine’s Day. And they fell in love and got married, even though they couldn’t speak the same language. They were married over 70 years. They moved to Los Angeles, where I was born and raised. 

I had a chance to visit her relatives during the summers when I was a child, until the Cuban Missile Crisis. Then, of course, travel restrictions divided the family. I didn’t get to go back until I was an adult, but I have gone back many times since then. 

When my mother talked about not being able to afford a radio, I’d known she was raised poor, but I didn’t realize it was poor enough in the 1930s to not be able to afford a radio. I knew that her mother had malaria. My grandmother – who lived until 104 – had recurring malaria throughout her life. And my grandfather, even though I never had a chance to meet him because he died young, raised pigeons in their courtyard garden. I didn’t realize until my mother told me this story that the pigeons were for pigeon soup, which was the prescription for a malaria cure at the time…

The happy part of this story was that my mother listened to the neighbor’s music. Eventually, street performers started to practice in front of that window and she was able to hear the live music. That just struck me as such a beautiful thing to focus on. This was right after the pandemic that she was telling me this story, and so it was very fresh in my mind of what it feels like to be stuck indoors and that she had this wonderful way of listening to music. 

I visualized the story with the animals because, at that time, I knew my great-uncle was a dairy farmer and would take the cow from window to window to deliver fresh milk. I thought those kinds of things would be fun for children now, to imagine a kind of old-fashioned style of life.

AC: There’s something so vivid about that scene, and it kicks off the story and all the other natural sounds and music Eloísa hears. How did you determine which sounds would filter in through your character’s window?

ME: I just kind of visualized and listened to the town in my mind. I know this town very well, and they still use a lot of horses and donkeys there because of the severe fuel shortages in Cuba. The streets are cobblestone, so the clip-clop of horses’ hooves on the street is very typical. They don’t deliver the milk by leading the cows through town anymore, but there’s still lots of little dogs and cats. 

I love the way John Parra, the illustrator, added a little green bird that follows the girl on every page of this book. It was just a treat to see how he would illustrate it. I had already written the sounds in, and he added his own touches.

AC: You dedicate the book to your mother. What was it like to work on this book with her in mind?

ME: As we were approaching publication, I knew that there was a chance she might not understand that it was really about her. But when it came out, I read her the Spanish edition and she really enjoyed it and got excited. At first she understood that she was the girl in the story. But a few minutes later, she had forgotten that, so I could start over and she’d enjoy it again. Whether she continues to remember that this is about her or not, I do know that she enjoys it.

One of the interesting things about Alzheimer’s is that music is the last memory to be lost. So songs and music from her childhood are still very much able to cheer her up, and give her a chance to interact in a way that conversation might not.

AC: Eloísa’s Musical Window is the latest addition to your many works rooted in Cuba. What message do you want to give about the country itself through this book? 

ME: I wanted the reader to be left with a sense of joy, of fun and of the beauty of music. And also with empathy for someone who is poor and can’t afford something. I think children now might not be able to relate to the idea of a radio because they get music from so many other sources, but I’m sure they can visualize not having the latest model computer, or the latest video game. There might be children who don’t have a phone or a laptop available to them, so they don’t always have access to everything that their friends are talking about. But the joy comes first, and the empathy might be for a slightly older child. I really wanted just that fun of the rhythms and the lyrical language of poetry, because I think of poetry as music.

One of the interesting things about Alzheimer’s is that music is the last memory to be lost. So songs and music from her childhood are still very much able to cheer her up, and give her a chance to interact in a way that conversation might not.

AC: I love that photo of your mother in the book. What did you think about how John illustrated her for the story? 

ME: It’s wonderful. It’s perfect. She had that little short haircut, and kind of a mischievous face in that photo. There’s actually about 100 people in that picture. There was a big family group at a picnic, and they had taken a photo of a whole bunch of people. My great-grandmother is standing behind her in the part that you see in the book. But that cat that she’s holding, she’s smiling because she had just grabbed it away from a little boy sitting there in front of her. He doesn’t show up in the picture here, but he was crying.

AC: No wonder she had that look on her face.

ME: She was quite mischievous, yes.

AC: What do you hope readers take away from Eloísa’s Musical Window?

ME: The joy and the empathy were the first things I thought of, but at the end of the book there’s also a couple of pages about Cuban musical instruments. I thought it might be something that would help them be curious about Caribbean music – not just Cuban music. And they might listen to some music and learn about the different instruments. If they had a chance, they might even try to play some drums or maracas.

I hope that everybody enjoys poetry as a form of music. I hope that any teachers who use this book will help the children enjoy poetry as a form of music, by asking them how it makes them feel rather than getting them to try and analyze it in any way. Especially with young children, I think it’s just for fun.


Margarita Engle is the Cuban-American author of many verse novels, including Wild Dreamers, long listed for the National Book Award, and The Surrender Tree, a Newbery Honor Book. Other awards include Pura Belpré Medals, Walter Honors, Américas Awards, Jane Addams Award, PEN U.S.A., and the NSK Neustadt Prize. Margarita served as the national 2017-2019 Young People’s Poet Laureate. Her most recent picture book is Eloísa’s Musical Window, and her next verse novel is Island Creatures. Margarita was born in Los Angeles, but developed a deep attachment to her mother’s homeland during childhood summers with relatives on the island. She studied agronomy and botany along with creative writing, and now lives in central California with her entomologist husband and soccer playing Border Collie.

 

John Parra’s illustrations for Frida Kahlo and Her Animalitos, written by Monica Brown, earned the book a New York Times Best Illustrated Book designation. He also illustrated Green Is a Chile Pepper: A Book of Colors by Roseanne Thong, which received a Pura Belpré Honor and the Américas Book Award: Commended; Marvelous Cornelius: Hurricane Katrina and the Spirit of New Orleans by Phil Bildner, which won the Golden Kite Award for Picture Book Illustration and was a Bank Street Best Book of the year; and Hey, Wall, by Susan Verde, which School Library Journal called “a must-purchase” in a starred review. Learn more at JohnParraArt.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.

Author Q&A: Gloria Muñoz On Her YA Climate Fiction Debut, ‘This Is the Year’

Julieta Villarreal lives under a crushing weight rooted in grief and desperation about the state of the world. The 17-year-old is reeling after losing her twin sister, Ofelia, in a hit-and-run. Juli doesn’t know how to move forward without Ofe. There’s also the deterioration of Juli’s Florida home. Flash floods and tornadoes ravage the state once a month, and the number of animals that are extinct has risen.

After scoring a record-high score on an aptitude test in school, Juli learns about Cometa, a private space program enlisting high-aptitude New American teens. Their mission is to build humanity’s first extraterrestrial settlement from the ground up. Desperate to leave Florida and the sadness that engulfs her daily, Juli believes this program is her path to a better future for herself and her mom. She is convinced it’s a chance to do something big with her life. But is it really? 

Out on Jan. 7 from Holiday House, This Is the Year by Gloria Muñoz is a thought-provoking YA climate fiction novel about what it means to find hope and meaning in a crumbling world. Muñoz brilliantly melds a story about a grieving teen with themes of climate change, environmentalism, and the true definition of community. The author and translator has crafted an unforgettable main character in Juli, a Latina goth who takes readers on a journey as she tries to make sense of a rapidly changing world.

Ahead of her book’s release, I spoke with my friend about the inspiration behind her genre-bending book, the term “New Americans,” and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo: Congratulations on This Is the Year. This book is unlike anything I’ve read. It’s incredibly inventive but also read like a window into the future. What inspired this story?

Gloria Muñoz (GM): I live in Florida, so I see the repercussions of climate change every day, especially during hurricane season. Right now there are homes that are being rebuilt, as you know, and homes that are being torn down due to weather. We’re going to have to make a lot of changes in the future. And I kept thinking, Wow, I have a kid now. I have to make these decisions and think about their future, and what we’re passing off. And so that was in my mind.

During the pandemic, I would go a lot to the beach, and there was so much red tide that it just felt staggering. What have we done to the water? And what is happening to our shores? Around that time, I was driving on a highway and I heard an NPR story about the Artemis project. I pulled over, because I was thinking about the two things coexisting: the end of this earth and the fight for its survival, alongside the amount of money and innovation and future-thinking going into space programs. And how there’s a bit of a discord there between the two. So that combination really sparked this book.

AC: Your main character, Julieta, is recruited by Cometa – this space program she believes is her ticket out of this world and to a better life for her mother. The program has an initiative for New Americans like Julieta. How did you come up with this program and what does it symbolize?

GM: Immigrants are always at the bottom. They’re incredibly necessary, and yet they’re always put to minimum wage work – tasked with cleaning up after everyone else. So when listening and reading up on Artemis and thinking about, Well, what would this look like if there was a space program inspired by this one that’s happening on Earth? And when they talk about building a space station, just like when they talk about building anything in this country, who are the bodies that are going to be breaking to put this together? I, right away, was like, it’s immigrants.

We see how things are moving politically now with the hateful rhetoric around immigration. I thought, Well, if they’re putting the space station together, it’s going to be immigrants and it’s going to be new Americans. In the future maybe we have another term that feels more palatable or more tech-like. “New Americans” came to mind as a generation and a population that should be one of promise, of wonder, of innovation, but that – in a future that’s very driven by these tech capitalist groups – they would also be tasked with the dirty work of putting together the station. Because in reality, the program is very militaristic and promises a lot. It’s supposed to solve a lot of problems. But in reality, it’s getting very cheap labor in another environment.

AC: Something that struck me throughout the book was Juli’s deep desire to leave this world. By that, I mean Florida and Earth. In your author’s note, you talk about how Florida, filled with contradictions, can be a difficult place to live. And that there are many Floridas across the country. What message were you hoping to reach readers through Julieta’s desire to escape it all?

GM: She’s overwhelmed. She’s overwhelmed by grief. She’s overwhelmed by her inability to exist in this space, in this state without her sister. And I feel like it’s this weight that she carries throughout the book. She’s not very present. She’s thinking about, Future, future, future, future. This was our plan. This is what we’re doing. Or, Past, past, past. These are all the memories that I have. 

I wrote this book during a time of grief myself, where I lost two people very dear to me. And I was also going through postpartum and trying to balance everything, and feeling like, What is happening in the world? That’s the bigger existential question of it all. Carrying all of that, the easy answer is, Let me get away from here. And that could mean so many things. For Julieta, I think it means safety, refuge. Like, Let me go somewhere where I don’t have to make choices. Let me go to another planet – a space program where everything is set up and I’m told what to do. And she has to discover who she is, and how to be present in her body. So much of this book is about the body. She really does not like herself in the beginning of the book.

AC: This Is the Year is very much about grief. Julieta lost her twin sister, Ofelia. You do an incredible job at showing just how impacted Juli is by this loss. One thing I found intriguing was that the entire book is told as if Julieta is talking directly to Ofelia. Can you share what compelled you to structure her voice in this way?

GM: I’m Colombian. In my family, I’ve always seen people speaking directly to those who we’ve lost. And I was always really intrigued by it. Other people talk about people who have died in a way that makes so much distance between them. And there’s this beautiful closeness to the epistolary, the letter form, and the ‘tú’ form of like, I’m speaking directly to you. I wanted that intimacy, that closeness, that sense of, You’re not here, but you’re everywhere. And I feel Julieta carries her sister with her, and it’s the person who helps her make sense of everything. She feels this closeness. And I really wanted that to come through.

AC: There’s tremendous worldbuilding in This Is the Year. There are smart homes with AI butlers, four-legged cyborg dogs that wash dishes, and robot horses that kids ride on the weekends. There’s even an AI-dating reality show. How did you arrive at this level of worldbuilding?

GM: The book has no dates. There’s no set time period. That was something that I really, really wanted to be a part of the premise. I wanted it to feel like it could be 10 years from now or 50 years from now, depending on our choices and how much energy we put into certain capitalist ventures and technology versus the environment. 

So in developing the world, I kept thinking of, Well, what is the more extreme version of AI, or of robots? Or of how we get around transportation? And I basically did that. I thought of the world we’re in right now, because a lot of it is like the uncanny valley of what’s coming. None of the things in the book feel like they’re impossible. They all feel very doable to me, especially when you think of technology and do research around how artificial intelligence is going to be used, and how driverless cars are going to be implemented across the country, probably, to help with emissions. There’s a way they can work together. But in the book, there’s this discord of profit over people, again and again, when it comes to technology. So I did use that lens in the novel.

AC: There are many themes weaved throughout your book – among them climate change and the role of humans in harm to Earth. Why was it important for you to place these on the page?

GM: These are things that we’re going to have to navigate in the future. I believe our choices that we’re making now will truly affect what world we have later on. And it is a book about rage, and rage against the ultra-wealthy and the people who are up top, not thinking of the Julietas of the world and her family. And I wanted to also address that huge disconnect between people making the choices, and people having to live with the aftermath.

AC: What do you hope readers take away from This Is the Year?

GM: The topics are very heavy. I understand that writing about climate change and the utter devastation of it all is a lot to take in. I also wanted to include a lot of humor in the book. I love these characters. They’re buoyant and they’re fun, and they’re goth and punk – just goofy kids. And I really wanted to have characters that, despite it all and maybe because of it all, are going to work together and are going to find the humor and hope in the tiny cracks, and really jump into them. I think hope is something that I wanted to communicate here, because I don’t read a lot of climate fiction that has that in it, or centers it. 

While the book is about navigating grief and managing these expectations of what life should look like on Earth, it’s also very much a book about friendship. The book, as I was writing it, really became about the love and hope you can have for the people who are going to be with you regardless of everything. And who are going to make it work, and who are going to really show up for you when you need it most. And that’s what Julieta is learning.


Gloria Muñoz is the author of Your Biome Has Found You and Danzirly, which won the Ambroggio Prize and the Florida Gold Medal Book Award for Poetry. She is an Academy of American Poets Poet Laureate Fellow, a Hedgebrook Fellow, a Macondista, a Highlights Foundation Diverse Verse Fellow, and a part of Las Musas. This Is the Year is her debut novel. Visit her online at gloriamunoz.com and on Instagram at @bygloriamunoz.

 

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 Interview: ‘Abuelita’s Gift: A Día de Muertos Story’ by Mariana Ríos Ramírez

In the opening of Abuelita’s Gift: A Día de Muertos Story, a young girl named Julieta peeks inside a box containing skeletons and the traditional Mexican decorative craft known as papel picado.

She asks her family if Abuelita is really coming home. “Yes!” her mother replies. “Our ancestors’ souls will visit us on Día de Muertos.”

Excited by the plan to honor her late grandmother, Julieta sets out on a personal quest to find a special gift to offer on the traditional Mexican holiday. It’s important for her to find a gift that would make Abuelita smile, and demonstrate how much she is missed.

In Mariana Ríos Ramírez’s new picture book (out now from Knopf Books for Young Readers), the Mexican author brings readers a beautiful and open-hearted story about the deep and never-ending love between a child and her grandmother. As Julieta struggles to find the best gift, she recalls memories she shared with Abuelita: of her grandmother’s hands lacing flowers into crowns, for example. Illustrations by Mexican award-winning illustrator Sara Palacios add tremendous warmth to a book that is mostly joyful because it’s about love and connection between generations.

And when Julieta finds the special gift, she learns that it’s much deeper than a tangible object. It’s what’s embedded within.

Ríos Ramírez recently spoke with Latinx in Publishing about the inspiration behind Abuelita’s Gift (also out in Spanish as El regalo de abuelita), her personal ties to Día de Muertos, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo (AC): Congratulations on Abuelita’s Gift: A Día de Muertos Story. I know you’re from Mexico and now live in the U.S. Growing up in Mexico, what was your relationship to Día de Muertos?

Mariana Ríos Ramírez (MRR): I grew up in Mexico, and Día de Muertos was always in my life, but not in my home. My parents are from Chihuahua, in the north of Mexico, and they didn’t grow up with the tradition because it is not as strong in the north as it is in the center or the south. We moved to Toluca when I was six, so in school we would set up ofrendas and exchange calaveritas with our classmates. There are also these poems called calaveritas that I remember we had to write as assignments. So it was in my life like that, but at home we didn’t set up ofrendas. I remember my parents would take me to this Día de Muertos market in Toluca called Feria del Alfeñique. It’s really famous during the month of October. I went there several times; you can buy skeletons, calaveritas, and candies. It’s very traditional and something to do about Día de Muertos.

When I came to live in the US, I wanted my kids to have a connection to Mexico and to our family. Right now we are the only ones here. (At the time) my son was five and my daughter was two – and suddenly there was this language barrier for them. They were missing home, missing family, so Día de Muertos allowed us to have an activity to do together. It was a celebration to set up the ofrenda, to talk about our ancestors, and to talk about our grandparents that my kids didn’t get to know. It became something that we started doing every year, that we all loved. Sharing about family is something that I really liked. I thought that the tradition was beautiful, and I wanted to share it with other children. So that’s why I ended up writing the book. It’s been an honor, truly, to be able to share that part of my culture through the book.

AC: Your story follows a young girl named Julieta as she struggles to find the best way to honor her late abuelita on the holiday. How did you create this character?

MRR: When I started drafting this story, at first it was nonfiction because it was more about explaining the elements of an ofrenda. My critique partners were like, ‘Well, it’s interesting, but there’s not a story.’ There was no character arc or anything. It was more like a description of the tradition. That made me think, so I changed it, which took me a while because I was learning how to write picture books at the time. This was one of my first drafts. So for a time, I couldn’t make it work. I put it aside. I wrote other things. And I came back to it because I really liked it. 

My grandma was still alive when I was working on this story. And as I said, living here (in the US) and far away from my kids’ grandparents also had to do with it. Because those are the feelings of longing – of missing. And even though my grandmother was alive back then, the feelings of my children missing their grandparents in Mexico were there. Since I was writing a book for kids, I put those feelings in Julieta. And given that the book is about Día de Muertos, it made sense to come up with an Abuelita who was going to be the relative that Julieta missed, because I think that it’s the closest relative sometimes for children that are older.

Julieta has the name of my grandma. And a lot of parts of the story have to do with my own memories. Many characters have the names of my uncles or my grandfather. So there are a lot of things that are very personal in the book.

AC: One thing I loved about your story is how you teach readers about the holiday. For example, readers learn about the setting up of an ofrenda. As you wrote this story, what did you envision showing readers about the holiday?

MRR: As you mentioned, the readers can see how this family specifically is celebrating Día de Muertos. I also felt that it was going to be in the background, because the main plot is Julieta looking for the gift. But as we follow her, she is remembering. And that’s so crucial of Día de Muertos: remembering those moments that you had together with your loved ones. That’s actually how Julieta is trying to find the inspiration for the right gift, by going back to those moments of connection and love with Abuelita. I think Sara Palacios did a great job of showing that, because that’s what built their relationship. That’s how we get to understand that pain and that love that Julieta is feeling because of Abuelita’s death. 

I wanted to show, but I didn’t explain, Why the ofrenda? What does it mean? How do we celebrate in Mexico? So I am showing it through the illustrations and as the story progresses, and that’s why it was very important for me to have an author’s note. It was crucial to have an opportunity to talk more in depth about the holiday, and how there’s not just one way to celebrate it. In different regions of Mexico, families do different things. Ofrendas look different from one state to another. 

For me it was important to clarify that, and also to say that not everybody that lives in Mexico celebrates Día de Muertos. Not everybody celebrates in the same way. Not everybody believes that our loved ones come to visit for the night. So there are many things that are very specific, and I am so grateful that I was able to go into more detail in the author’s note. And also in the last spread, with the ofrenda diagram that tells the readers what the meaning is of everything that we put in the ofrenda. I think that’s just beautiful, knowing that everything has a meaning and a symbolism because this is a pre-Hispanic tradition that has lasted for generations to our times. I feel so grateful that I was able to do that without being too didactic as I told the story.

....And that’s so crucial of Día de Muertos: remembering those moments that you had together with your loved ones

AC: The heart of this story, to me, is about the deep connection we have with our loved ones, especially those who have passed on. And how it’s possible and a great thing to still honor them. What is the heart of the story to you, as the author?

MRR: For me, the heart is Julieta realizing that the love with Abuelita never ends. That she can be connected with her. And for readers, too. It’s important to me that we can all still feel that love and connection with our loved ones – even if they are not physically around us – if we hold onto the memories and if we hold onto sharing their stories. For that, we need to know them first. But if we can do that, then that’s the way that people really live on. 

That’s why, for me, it was important to start celebrating Día de Muertos with my children, so that the people I love will live on through them in their stories.That they can talk about my mom or my grandma later with their kids, even if they didn’t get to know my grandma. I think that’s what’s beautiful about this celebration; to honor family and love and those connections, knowing that they never end. So I think it’s very hopeful.

AC: The book was illustrated by Sara Palacios, who is also Mexican and has illustrated many children’s books. What do you think her illustrations add to Julieta’s story?

MRR: Sara is super talented, and I am very grateful and I feel so lucky that she was part of the team. The fact that she’s Mexican made it easier. I remember at the beginning, I had a lot of illustration notes. When she came to the project, they were no longer needed because she understands the tradition. 

I remember my editor told me that she considered Sara to be really good at showing sadness and at showing joy. And that’s exactly what this book is about. It’s about finding the joy in honoring those that have passed away and that left a hole in our hearts. And she does a great job. I don’t know about you, but I tear up looking at the illustrations. She is just great. I think that she added a lot of warmth, a lot of emotion, and even more heart to the story than what the text had already.

AC: There’s a scene in the book where you write that Julieta’s eyes teared up as another memory came to mind. And the image is of Julieta placing flowers on her abuelita’s casket. It was perhaps the most somber moment in the book, because the story really begins with a child's excitement to honor her abuela. Why was it important for you to include that scene?

MRR: Día de Muertos Muertos is a holiday that celebrates the lives of our ancestors, but of course we’re celebrating them because they are no longer here and have passed away. And when someone we love passes away, that hurts. For me, it was important for children to understand that Abuelita had died, because I am sure that many of them have gone through something like that. It is important that they know that death is part of life, and that it hurts and changes our lives. In this case, Julieta stopped dancing for a while when she lost Abuelita. But (I hoped) that children also understand that with time, if you hold on to those memories and those good times, then you’re going to be fine. You’re going to find a way to still feel that love around you. 

So for me, it was important that they also know that death exists, that it’s real, that it’s part of life, and that it hurts. And that they can see the character go through that. I am sure that children that are going through hard moments like that can relate. But as you say, it’s something that is shown in the illustration. I think that the way in which the book presents it is somber, but you also didn’t need more words. The illustration is enough, and then showing on the other side how Julieta is feeling and how that impacted her life.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from Abuelita’s Gift?

MRR: I hope that they get curious about their own family and ancestors. That they ask questions to their parents and grandparents about the past, so that they can better understand where they come from and can later tell their stories. What we discussed about how the love of family never ends, that’s something that I hope they can hold onto. For when the time comes, they might need it. 

And finally, just like Julieta, I hope they learn that the best gifts truly come from the heart. When that happens, it is a gift not only for the person that is receiving it, in the case of Abuelita, but also for the giver, like Julieta – who found the gift that is for Abuelita and herself. 


Mariana Ríos Ramírez is a Mexican author living in Anderson, South Carolina. She worked as a high school teacher and co-owned an online business before discovering her passion for writing. Mariana is a member of SCBWI, Storyteller Academy, Rate your Story, and Las Musas.

 

Sara Palacios was the recipient of the 2012 Pura Belpré Illustrator Honor Award for her work on Marisol McDonald Doesn’t Match. A native of Mexico, Sara graduated from the National Institute of Fine Arts in Mexico City and went on to earn BFA and MFA degrees in illustration from the Academy of Art University in San Francisco. She illustrates for companies in both the United States and Mexico.

 

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: ‘Pencil & Eraser: We Have a Dull-Emma!’ by Jenny Alvarado

It’s the start of a new school year, and Pencil and Eraser face their first big dilemma. Pencil is dull. As in, her point is the opposite of sharp.

Pencil, who almost always exudes joy, panics. 

“What should I do?” she asks Eraser, a stout white-and-pink curmudgeon. 

“Sharpen up,” Eraser says.

“That is a great idea!” Pencil shouts, picking up Eraser for a hug.

So begins Pencil & Eraser: We Have a Dull-Emma! – the first book in a new early-reader graphic novel series by Jenny Alvarado. Out now from G.P. Putnam’s Sons Books for Young Readers, this imaginative story is equal parts hilarious and endearing as readers join Pencil and Eraser on an epic adventure to find a sharpener. The author-illustrator threads in joke breaks in between some chapters for additional laughs. A special touch comes at the end, with tutorials from Alvarado on how young readers can draw Pencil and Eraser themselves.

The second book in the series – Pencil & Eraser: Lost and Frown! – is slated to release next year.

Latinx in Publishing spoke with Alvarado about how this series came to be, developing her memorable characters, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo: Congratulations on Pencil & Eraser: We Have a Dull-Emma! What inspired this book?

Jenny Alvarado (JA): It started off as a picture book idea – completely different from what it is now. I had this idea of a very mean eraser that would erase everybody’s writing. And then it slowly transformed into an early reader (book). He’s still not nice, but he’s not as mean as he was in the picture book idea that I had. And he needed a character that would pretty much be the opposite of him, which became Pencil. She’s super joyful and exuberant.

AC: Now that you have the first book out from this series, do you look at your pencils and erasers the same?

JA: Oh no, they’re very different now. [Laughs] I was looking at the initial sketches of when I had the picture book idea, and even their design has changed completely. Their personalities, their design, everything changed from the initial idea.

I had this idea of a very mean eraser that would erase everybody’s writing. And then it slowly transformed into an early reader (book). He’s still not nice, but he’s not as mean as he was in the picture book idea that I had.

AC: Your book centers on Pencil, who loves thrills and is super optimistic. And then there’s Eraser, who is a big grump and a curmudgeon. Can you talk about the development of these characters?

JA: I usually start out with a drawing. That’s how I get most of my ideas. I think of the character first, and then I build the world around them. Obviously their world is school, for the most part. I see what I feel they’re like when I draw them.

AC: I love the humor in this book. Your characters are an entertaining pair, and you have these joke breaks in between a few of the chapters, which are punny. As the author and illustrator, what role did you want humor to play in this book – and in the overall series?

JA: I wanted it to be the main component. I love funny. I want most of my books to be funny and humorous. And I’m obsessed with puns. I don’t know if that came across but, yes, I love puns. I love doing drawings of puns, like vegetable puns and all sorts of things.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from Pencil & Eraser: We Have a Dull-Emma?

JA: I hope they enjoy it. I hope it’s fun. There’s not really a huge message in it, except for sticking with your friend. I just hope they enjoy it – that they laugh and enjoy the jokes. I’ve been getting some parents tell me that their kids have been drawing Pencil and Eraser because there’s a little how-to-draw (exercise) at the end. I love seeing all their drawings.

AC: Why doesn’t Pencil have her own eraser?

JA: [Laughs] Because she needs her Eraser. If she had an eraser, then she won’t need Eraser. 

AC: [Laughs] That’s so funny.

JA: When I think of her, I think of those little lottery pencils that don’t have an eraser at the end.

AC: That is really funny, because I actually just realized she’s not like a regular school pencil, because she would have the eraser on her bottom. Well, you know what? In that case, I’m really glad she has Eraser in her life. [Laughs] I really appreciate you taking the time to speak with me about your book.

JA: I really appreciate chatting with you.


Jenny Alvarado is an author and illustrator of books for kids. She lives in Palm Bay, Florida with her family and little pup. As far as she knows, her real life pencil and eraser don’t go on adventures but she likes to imagine that they do. You can find more of her work at www.JennyAbooks.com or follow her @JennyAbooks on social.



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.

How Cynthia Harmony and Devon Holzwarth Brought Readers ‘A Flicker of Hope’

In the opening of A Flicker of Hope: A Story of Migration, a girl named Lucía sits with her Papá on the steps of their home, surrounded by lush plants. Nearby, monarchs perch on the branches of a tree.

Humming Lucía’s favorite tune, her father tells her that songs soothe weeping hearts. Soon he will journey north. The monarch butterflies will, too.

Lucía asks her father if he will come back.

“Sí, mi amor,” he promises. “When the weather turns cold and the monarcas return, our winged ancestors will guide me home.”

Written by Cynthia Harmony and illustrated by Devon Holzwarth, A Flicker of Hope (out now from Viking Books for Young Readers) is a lovingly crafted story about a girl waiting for her father to return home to Mexico from his seasonal farm work far away. It’s also about the monarch butterflies and their journey, “miles and miles across rivers and mountains,” in search of milkweed blossoms. And at its heart, it’s a story about family, hope, and the bonds that tie us to nature. A Spanish version — Un Aleteo de Esperanza — is also out now.

Harmony masterfully captures a parallel between the story of Lucía’s father and that of the monarcas. Growing up, it was common for the Mexico City native to see monarch butterflies. Harmony remembers visits to the state of Michoacán, where she experienced the wonder of the monarchs. “There’s a common belief that butterflies are the souls of our ancestors visiting for a brief moment,” she shared.

The monarch butterflies were an element of the story when Harmony first began writing A Flicker of Hope. But initially there was no parallel structure tying their journey to that of Lucía’s father. During the revision process, the author and educational psychologist realized there needed to be. She felt the mirroring was critical to the story.

“That’s a really important part of the theme: We’re connected to nature and to each other, and we follow these patterns,” Harmony said. “That was the main theme and thread for me in the story: the connectedness. That’s why while I revised, I realized it was important to bring the monarch butterflies’ story and mirror it to the story of Papá and Lucía. They’re so small and delicate, but they’re strong and resilient – so it’s like a perfect symbol of hope.”

An added layer of meaning to the story is the community Lucía belongs to. She is a member of the Mazahuas, an Indigenous people of Mexico. In her author’s note, Harmony wrote about the Monarch Butterfly Biosphere Reserve, where millions of monarchs find shelter to hibernate during the winter months. She also mentioned the Mazahuas and how they believe the souls of their ancestors return in the shape of monarchs, “as the migration coincides with the Day of the Dead celebrations that take place on November 1 and 2.”

There’s a common belief that butterflies are the souls of our ancestors visiting for a brief moment.

Holzwarth’s illustrations for A Flicker of Hope feature Lucía and other members of this Indigenous community hand making baskets out of ocoxal leaves. Holzwarth said she researched the Mazahuas while determining her artistic approach to the illustrations for this book. Harmony also provided the picture book illustrator with information. The artist said she soon found herself on a rabbit hole search, trying to find photos of the community.

“I wanted to see, what's everyday life like? What do people do in the middle of the day?” Holzwarth recalled. “How do they make the crafts from pine needles? What season do they collect them?” The picture book illustrator grew up in Panama, and so she experienced seeing traditional cultures shifting over time in different ways.

Holzwarth used mixed media for the illustrations in A Flicker of Hope: they are a vivid blend of gouache, watercolor, colored pencil, crayon and digital finishing. She began with sketches on her iPad, the final versions of which were later transferred to paper. Holzwarth then worked out of the paper and introduced water media first.

She knew she wanted to focus on orange, which is a color that is found in different hues throughout the book, especially with respect to the monarch butterflies. “I like harmony, and so I go the left and right of orange: I can have reds and I can have yellows,” she said. “And then the opposite of orange is blue… Because they’re the most exciting things together. And so on the other side of blue, I will have some violet, and then a little bit of green. But I’ll keep it more of a blue-green.”

The result is a gorgeous color palette amid the characters – deep oranges and forest greens and blues. After painting, Holzwarth brought greater detail with colored pencils, or fine brushes with gouache. 

The butterflies themselves were made from gouache, which the artist said is a bit thicker – with colored pencil on top. Throughout most of the book, they’re in motion. “They’re always moving to their place,” Holzwarth said. “They’re not in their nesting spot for that long.”

The illustrator said she hopes readers enjoy Lucía’s, especially those who miss family members or are waiting for something. “It’s waiting, it’s hoping, and then this joy right upon being rewarded with your patience,” Holzwarth said. “I think that would be probably what I hope that children see in the story.”

That much is clear: A Flicker of Hope also touches on a universal theme, which is a child’s longing for her parent. As she wrote, Harmony’s mind also turned to the Trump-era “zero tolerance” policy that was being enforced in Arizona, where she currently resides. She described that time as heartbreaking. “And I decided in that moment that this story had to be about the experience of children, and longing for their parents,” she said.

Lucía’s longing for her Papá is palpable. And it was an important part of the story for Harmony to demonstrate.

“I wanted what I saw growing up in Mexico to be seen and felt by the reader,” she said. “I think I do this with all my stories. Every time I write, I’m just hoping to contribute a little bit of understanding by sharing this point of view of people that have not been shown in books historically.”

And for children, Harmony hopes the message for them is that maybe they’re not so different from each other.

“All children, and everyone of us, longs to be close to our loved ones. That’s also what I was trying to convey – that maybe deep down in all of our journeys, we’ll always find love and hope.”


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: 'Tamales for Christmas' by Stephen Briseño and Illustrated by Sonia Sánchez

In the forthcoming picture book, Tamales For Christmas, a grandmother begins preparing long before the Christmas tree is decorated. She stands before her kitchen sink – her gray hair pulled back into a bun, her blue apron on. She’s ready to begin her labor of love.

“Her kitchen is the heartbeat of our familia, loud and cramped and perfumed with delicious smells,” writes author Stephen Briseño. “With so many children and grandchildren, she finds a way to fill the space underneath the tree: sell as many tamales as she can before Christmas.”

Based on the true story of Briseño’s late grandmother, Tamales For Christmas is a beautiful picture book that recognizes a grandmother’s boundless heart for not only her family, but those in need. With masa in one hand, corn husks in the other, Grandma works tirelessly to make tamales. The number of her delicious tamales grows from 15 dozen, to 60 dozen and beyond. As the holiday season marches on, Grandma continues making tamales – enlisting the help of others in her family to help with preparing and selling them. 

Briseño, whose debut picture book The Notebook Keeper won a Pura Belpré Author Honor Award, brings us another memorable story with tender and artfully-placed refrains that young readers will love. The illustrations from award-winning illustrator Sonia Sánchez, rendered digitally with handmade brushes and textures, add a deep warmth to Briseño’s text. Grandma’s kitchen itself is its own world, with a tiled backsplash and colorful plates – and crowded with energetic grandchildren. Readers are also brought into the visual joy that are parts of the tamale-making process.

Briseño spoke with Latinx in Publishing about the inspiration behind Tamales For Christmas (out on Oct. 8 from Random House Studio), the communal effort behind making tamales, and more. Tamales for Navidad, a Spanish version translated by Maria Correa, will also be released simultaneously. 

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo: Congratulations on your new picture book, Tamales For Christmas. I understand it is based on a true story, of your own grandmother. Can you tell us more about her?

Stephen Briseño (SB): My grandma, Rebecca Cano, was such a force of a woman. She didn’t finish middle school and worked really hard in every regard. She had nine children, and so she knew how to make a meal and stretch a dollar. She was always looking for ways to bless people. She was just a kind-hearted soul.

What stands out to me the most is she was a gifted storyteller. She would just have people leaning in around the kitchen table at all of our family events. Everyone would just be enraptured by her story, whether it was something serious, or chisme. She would have us rolling in laughter. I also remember her laugh. It was just this loud, full-bellied, unbridled laugh that you could hear down the street. She was just an amazing woman.

AC: You dedicated the book to her. What was it like to work on this book with your grandma in mind?

SB: She passed away years ago. Everyone still talks about her as if she was still here – like she’s never really gone. When the idea first came up [for Tamales for Christmas], it was going to be about a kid learning to make tamales from his grandma. A very generic story, but honoring that tradition in my family. I included her in the author’s note, and my agent sent it to my editor. And my editor was like, ‘This is a good story. It’s fine, but I want this story about your grandma making 1,000 tamales.’

It was wonderful, because I called my mom, several of my aunts and uncles, and was like, ‘Tell me about her… What was it like from your perspective? What do you miss about her?’... I got to hear stories that I hadn’t heard before about my grandma, that made her an even fuller person in my mind. It was a unique, fulfilling process to write this story.

AC: In your book, the main character’s grandma is a true hustler – making tamales so that she would be able to get her family gifts. The number of tamales she makes throughout the story grows and grows. It’s truly remarkable. It made me think about how much one person’s hands and hard work can produce, and the joy one person can spread. Is that something you thought of as you were piecing together this story?

SB: Yes. I remember this year that she made them, because I was a part of the process. I think I was 12 or 13, and I remember thinking even at that time, Man, this is a lot. I would see the number of tamales in her freezer just grow and grow and grow. And then every now and then the freezer would be cleared out, and then refilled back up again. Because people would buy them, and then she’d make more. 

As I was writing it, part of the craziness of this story is just the sheer number [of tamales]. And so I thought that the device of seeing that number grow and grow, and having that refrain of it, is just fun.

It was wonderful, because I called my mom, several of my aunts and uncles, and was like, ‘Tell me about her… What was it like from your perspective? What do you miss about her?’... I got to hear stories that I hadn’t heard before about my grandma, that made her an even fuller person in my mind. It was a unique, fulfilling process to write this story.

AC: Something I loved about this story is that Grandma’s labor of making tamales is really a family endeavor. The main character watches as Dad loads up the cooler with tamales and sells them to coworkers and friends. At Halloween, Grandpa helps give out candy while she works on the tamales. And when winter arrives, the other women in the family help by seasoning the meat, melting the lard, and more. Why was it important for you to place the hands of others into this story, on the page?

SB: That’s who my grandmother was. It was never like, I’m going to take this burden on, on my own. She was so welcoming and warm, and her house was always open. Her kitchen was always open. She was a member of a community, and because of that, she was open-handed. 

I remember so vividly seeing people make tamales with her, whether they were her own sisters or my mom and tías. It was this community effort. I feel like in Mexican American society, at least, and others in Latinx society, it’s not about the individual. It’s about the family. It’s about the community that you’re surrounded by. That’s what makes life so exciting and so rich. That’s who she was, and so I really wanted to highlight that process. 

My dad was a postal worker, and so he would get up early. I remember being in the car with him, sleepy-eyed and barely awake, before he dropped me off at school. He’d pull up to my grandma’s house and fill up his cooler [with tamales], just like in the book. She would have steamed them, so they would still be hot. I remember opening the cooler and watching all the steam pour out. He would go to his co-workers and set up in the front, and they’d all come by him. And then he’d take me to school. Yes, it was my grandma’s work, but she involved so many of us in it. It’s part of what makes the memory so rich in my mind.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from Tamales for Christmas?

SB: A part of it is kind of a selfish reason. I want readers to know about my grandma. On paper, she was a mom, a grandma… She was so much more than that. She was such a powerful, wonderful, amazing woman. And the fact that readers will get to know her, and she’ll get to live on beyond my family, is such a thrill for me. 

I also hope readers see and think about: Who in my family or in my life is doing this type of work? Whether it’s food making or not. And how can I be a part of it? Can I find someone like Grandma Cano, who can show me the ropes and show me the ways to be a positive force in the community?


Stephen Briseño is the author of The Notebook Keeper, which received the Pura Belpre Author Honor Award. He has taught middle school English for 15 years, and writes, reads, and drinks a ton of coffee with his wife and daughter in San Antonio, TX.

 

Sonia Sánchez paints with both traditional and digital brushes using layers of texture in her work to evoke emotion and movement. Her debut picture book, Here I Am, received two starred reviews and was nominated for the Eisner Award in the category of Best Painter interior art. She is also the illustrator of Evelyn Del Rey is Moving Away by Meg Medina, the 2020 Jumpstart Read for the Record Selection. Sonia’s art has been selected for the prestigious Society of Illustrators Original Art Show three times. She lives with her husband, son, and a sleepyhead cat in a blue house near the Mediterranean Sea.

 

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: '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.

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Author Q&A: ‘In the Groves’ by Andrea Cruz Floren

Orange groves have long been a part of Clara’s family ever since her Abuelo came to this country. Her relatives in California are full of stories about it. During her yearly summer stay there with her parents, Clara hears tales of magic, mischief, and monstruos among the groves.

But Abuelo says the groves are no place for their visitor. Clara wouldn’t know, because she’s never been there. And she doesn’t want to be considered a visitor. “A visitor is a tourist, a stranger,” she thinks to herself. “I’m familia!”

So one day while everyone packs for a trip to the beach, Clara decides to sneak into Abuelo’s pickup truck. Soon she’s finally where she’s always wanted to be: the groves. What she finds before her is a magical citrus kingdom.

In the Groves centers on the adventure that awaits for Clara and her grandfather. Out now from Penguin Workshop, this tenderhearted debut picture book by Andrea Cruz Floren is largely inspired by the author’s own family history. Cruz Floren grew up in South Dakota, far from her family in California. Her grandfather tended to orange groves.

“I just remember the groves being this place that everybody in the family would talk about,” she told Latinx in Publishing. “It had this air of mystery around it. Tall tales of these big things that happened there. And as a little girl, it sounded like this fantastic place to be.”

Cruz Floren spoke with Latinx in Publishing about her family history, what it was like to write In the Groves, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo: Congratulations on your debut book, In the Groves. I understand your story was inspired by your own family’s history with orange groves. Can you tell us more about that?

Andrea Cruz Floren (ACF): My mother’s side of the family is originally from Mexico. My great-grandparents came over in the 20s. My grandmother actually was migratory; she went back and forth for a while until she finally stayed in California. And it was her father – my great-grandfather – who started working in the orange groves way back in the 20s. Later on when her and my grandfather got together, my grandfather learned the trade and then he started working in the orange groves. Over the decades, many of my family members either worked in the groves, worked in the packing houses, and worked as pickers. Because at that time in California, the groves were a booming industry. That’s what a lot of migrant and immigrant workers could do in California for work. 

My grandfather continued (working) all the way up until the late 80s, early 90s. So he was still doing it when I was a little girl. I just remember the groves being this place that everybody in the family would talk about. It had this air of mystery around it. Tall tales of these big things that happened there. And as a little girl, it sounded like this fantastic place to be. We grew up in the Midwest so, as a visitor, they would want to show us what they thought were the really interesting things in California. That was like the beach or, if we saved up money, Disneyland. And I always just really wanted to see these orange groves, and I never got to. I lost my grandfather several years back, and he and the groves have always stuck with me. He was such a vibrant, joyful person. His outlook on life was a big impression on me, and I just felt like it was a story that needed to be told.

AC: Your main character, Clara, visits her extended family in California. Everyone lives there but her, and when she is with them, her abuelo always wants to take him to all the places he thinks she wants to see. It made me think about how children find joy in places adults may not think. And this is definitely a theme that runs through the whole story. What was it like to try to depict this on the page?

ACF: For me it was really emotional, because I never did get to see them. I actually interviewed a lot of family members that had been to the groves and it was so interesting because, in their child’s mind, it was this place. There’s my grandfather doing manual labor, and then he would stop and make the kids a sword out of a stick, or make them some other little fun things. And they would be running around, capturing snakes, dodging cougars – doing pretty dangerous things. [Laughs] But in their minds, it was always like the best day ever. It was really emotional that I didn’t get that experience. 

When I was a little girl, we were the only family that lived out in the Midwest. Everybody else was in California. Because of that, it was really emotional to be able to combine all these family stories and think about what my child’s mind would have seen, had I been able to go to the groves. I wish I could have told my grandfather what an important and special place that actually is to our family.

I just remember the groves being this place that everybody in the family would talk about. It had this air of mystery around it. Tall tales of these big things that happened there. And as a little girl, it sounded like this fantastic place to be.

AC: When Clara sneaks into her abuelo’s truck and ends up in the orange groves with him, her first impression is that it’s a “magical citrus kingdom.” The orange groves obviously carry its own meaning and weight in the story and for her family. As you wrote this book, what meaning did the orange groves carry for you? And did that meaning change?

ACF: I think maybe it didn’t necessarily change, but it became deeper. For me, it’s a layered meaning. On the one hand, for a child, these places that – like you said – adults think are workaday or boring, are really imaginative places in the child’s mind. And I just wanted to honor that. 

And as I wrote the book, it just became so clear to me what a privilege it was to share this story in the world. It’s something that my grandfather did every day because he had to, because it’s what put food on the table, it’s what gave opportunities. It wasn’t easy work and now, all these years later, here I am with a college degree – getting to write a picture book about it. And there’s something really bittersweet about that.

AC: This is your debut picture book, but you have experience in commercial and editorial illustration work. How did you decide how to approach the illustrations for your book?

ACF: A lot of people in my family are self-taught, kind of scrappy people. I am actually pretty self-taught. I worked in design and advertising for over 20 years, but I don’t have a Master of Fine Art. A lot of that is things I’ve picked up along the way. And when I knew I wanted to transition towards children’s books, I was really nervous about putting myself out there on the page. 

I would love to explore more traditional media in the future, but because of my background, I’m very comfortable with digital media. So I did a combination, where I did a lot of exploration on the side: I did a lot of painting and sketching and colored pencil work – just painting textures and shapes. Then I got experimental and combined it with digital media and tried to make it a blend of the two worlds, which I realized is pretty fitting to who I am. I’m a blend of so many things, and it’s fitting that my art kind of matches myself. I’ve always felt like I’ve been in between cultures, in between worlds, in between writing and drawing.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from In the Groves?

ACF: It’s one of those stories I talked about with my editor. It works on multiple levels, and I really hope readers are able to grasp a little bit of each of those levels. I think on the surface, it’s definitely some magical realism and an adventure. Is it true? Is it not? What happened? What didn’t? There’s that kind of fun and adventure side of it.

And then running underneath it is definitely a story about belonging. For kids who are either not from this country, or maybe of a mixed background, or maybe they live far from where their cultural roots are – I think there’s a story in there about you do have a place in your lineage. And you do belong. 

There’s another line running through there about honoring your family stories, and honoring the idea of oral storytelling. That is an important historical tool for many cultures. I wanted to honor that, and honor the hard work of my family and so many other marginalized communities that do this kind of work and don’t get to have that be seen on the page as an honorable and beautiful job.



Andrea Floren grew up in South Dakota, far from her California family. Her grandfather, who tended the orange groves, had a gift for storytelling. He encouraged Andrea to keep writing; she hopes to honor his memory with this debut book. Andrea currently lives in Colorado with her family. Visit her at quietlyfiery.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.

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The Story Behind ‘Doña Fela’s Dream’

Monica Brown believes there are many ways to structure a picture book biography. So in her forthcoming book about Felisa Rincón de Gautier, the author chose to begin at a pivotal moment in the life of Puerto Rico’s first female mayor.

“The people of La Perla were scared. The winds blew fiercely, and dark clouds swirled in the sky,” Brown writes. “A tropical storm headed toward the island of Puerto Rico.”

Depicted on the first spread are Rosa Ibarra’s illustrations of people fleeing wooden shacks, the ocean thrashing behind them. Brown wrote that there was only one place they could count on. Soon, a group of La Perla’s residents were at the door of Felisa Rincón de Gautier – who was affectionately known as Doña Fela.

Out on Sept. 3 from Little, Brown for Young Readers, Doña Fela’s Dream: The Story of Puerto Rico's First Female Mayor is the inspiring story of a woman who broke barriers on the island and cared deeply about her fellow Puerto Ricans. Doña Fela, known for her devotion to public welfare, died in 1994 at age 97.

Doña Fela’s Dream can be added to the list of picture book biographies Brown has written over the span of her publishing career. The award-winning author described the process behind this book as a collaborative journey. Brown began researching the late political figure after Nikki García (her longtime editor at Little, Brown & Company) shared her passion for Doña Fela’s legacy. “The more I delved into the life of a woman who broke political barriers and embodied compassion and care as the first female mayor of a capital city in the Americas, the more I agreed with Nikki,” Brown said in an email. 

After many conversations, Brown said she agreed to take on the project.

“I want children to believe and know they have a voice in our world,” she added. “As a person deeply concerned about our political systems, I’ve wanted to use my work to shine the light on models of ethical leaders, of activism, of organizing, and justice-oriented citizenship.”

For illustrator Rosa Ibarra, the invitation to join the project was a very pleasant surprise. She received the invitation by email and mistakenly took it for spam. “And then I called them, and it was a real, real thing – to illustrate the book,” Ibarra recalled.

The book’s subject held even greater meaning to the fine artist from Puerto Rico.

“I was so happy,” Ibarra told Latinx in Publishing. “Doña Fela was our neighbor in San Juan.”

As a child, Ibarra remembers seeing Doña Fela surrounded by children and people of all levels of wealth and education. She said the mayor was loved by residents of La Perla, by other politicians and by foreigners. 

Ibarra said Old San Juan used to be a very residential area, unlike the tourist area it’s now known as. She recalls playing outside with other children. Whenever they got thirsty, they’d pay a visit to Doña Fela’s house because it was even closer than their own homes. They’d ask her for water.

“I want children to believe and know they have a voice in our world,” she added. “As a person deeply concerned about our political systems, I’ve wanted to use my work to shine the light on models of ethical leaders, of activism, of organizing, and justice-oriented citizenship.”

“And then she would, so many times, invite us over to have lemonade,” Ibarra said. “And then we’d thank her, and continue playing. That was the kind of woman she was. She was a big woman, tall, and then she had her hair in these big hairstyles. And so for us little, we looked up at her. She was big. Imponente, you know?”

Brown said she and her editor looked at many talented artists, and Ibarra was her first and only choice. “Her art spoke to me because the women depicted in Rosa’s paintings radiate strength, complexity, and grace,” she said. “I was drawn to her lush use of color, her pure and accessible composition, and her use of light to make figures and faces sing.”

Brown added that her late mother was a painter. In an increasingly digitized world, Brown confessed that it is “still a thrill” to work with an artist whose medium is paint-brush, pigment, and canvas. 

Ibarra used oil paint on canvas to render the illustrations for the book. She drew the distinction between illustrator and artist. “It’s fantastic what an illustrator can do. All my respect to the profession,” she said. “Because as artists, we can make whatever we want and that’s it. But an illustrator has to be very specific, and capture the essence of the writer.”

The artist said some images came very clear when she read Brown’s text, such as the storm scene in the beginning of the story. Ibarra said she would submit a sketch to the publisher and they would approve it before she began painting.

In Doña Fela’s Dream, the tall woman with braids in her hair and a flower behind her ear let the residents of La Perla in her home amid the brewing tropical storm. When local officials refused to open a shelter, Doña Fela declared she would do it herself. Others encouraged her to try to become San Juan’s mayor. But at the time, the city had never seen a female mayor. Compounding this was the fact that Doña Fela had been born before women in Puerto Rico were allowed to vote.

“Felisa’s father believed that women had no place in politics and that it was up to the men to solve Puerto Rico’s problems,” Brown writes. “But even as a young girl, Felisa disagreed.”

The rest is, as they say, history.

Brown said she hopes young readers will open the pages of this book and “go on a journey across the island of Puerto Rico and into the mind and heart of a remarkable woman, who persisted despite the limitations of her era—and people saying no.” She hopes young readers believe in their own voice and power.

Ibarra said she hopes those who read Doña Fela’s Dream will become familiar with a Puerto Rican woman who was ahead of her time. “We have famous people out there that not everybody knows about. And so thanks to Monica that Doña Fela will be known,” she said. “Her [Doña Fela’s] commitment to the community is very inspiring.”

Ibarra added that they illustrated only a portion of the cherished politician’s contributions. Doña Fela, she said, did so much more.


Monica Brown, Ph.D. is the author of many award winning books for children, including Waiting for the Biblioburro and Marisol McDonald Doesn’t Match/Marisol McDonald no combina. Her books have received starred reviews, Pura Belpre honors, an NCTE Orbis Pictus honor, Americas Awards, and a Christopher Award. Monica’s books are inspired by her Peruvian and Jewish heritage and her desire to bring diverse stories to children. Monica is a professor of English at Northern Arizona University, where she teaches multicultural literature. She lives in Arizona with her husband and two daughters, and she invites you to visit her website at monicabrown.net.

 

Rosa Ibarra is a fine artist who works in oils, interweaving thick layers of paint to convey the vibration of light and to build texture and design. Born in Puerto Rico, she spent her childhood in Old San Juan. She received a degree of Fine Arts from the University of Massachusetts in Amherst and exhibits her work in galleries and museums in the United States and abroad. She invites you to visit her online at rosaibarra.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.