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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Book Review: Immortal Pleasures by V. Castro

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Book Review: Mamá's Panza

A mother’s panza is special, unique, and powerful. It creates life and protects it. It’s a child’s first home and safe space. It’s playful, fun, and, of course, filled with love.

Mama’s Panza (also available in Spanish) celebrates all these aspects and more. It beautifully encapsulates the strong love and bond between a child and their mother. The book showcases the young narrator having fun with his mother, like playing the drum on her panza and tumbling onto her during their lucha libre games. It also shows her protecting him from strangers at the store and scary monsters from his stories. Mama’s Panza becomes a third character of the story; an extension of the mother’s love and protection.

The young and playful narrator introduces the topic of body positivity in an accessible way. This book teaches children the importance of loving their bodies, which should be appreciated and celebrated for all the wonderful things they can do. It can run up hills, swim in the oceans, and keep us alive. It urges the reader to think: How could I not love my body? Additionally, the portrayal of a strong mother will resonate with new Latine mothers as they learn to accept their changing bodies and reject Euro-centric beauty norms. She offers affirming and inspiring words that teach readers an important lesson of body acceptance, such as her declaration, “This panza is a part of me. I cannot love all of me without loving it too.”

Filled with lively and colorful illustrations that leap off every page, the book is as visually beautiful as it is well-written. The incorporation of Latine cultural aspects–such as the house decorations, the grocery store, and the bedtime stories– into the design makes this a refreshing addition to children’s literature.

Mama’s Panza is an endearing book that celebrates a child’s love for their mother and her panza, making it a perfect gift for expecting and new mothers who want to teach their children about body love.

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Ilse Alva is a proud first-generation Mexican-American from South San Diego. She holds a BA in English from UCLA and an MS in Publishing from NYU. Ilse was a 2023 We Need Diverse Books Internship grantee, placed at Hachette Book Group for the summer. Previously, she worked with the Independent Book Publishers Association and at the UCLA Bookstore, where she learned she loved talking about books. She enjoys reading thrillers, sipping iced coffees, and hiking with her dog and cat.

Book Review: Raiders of the Lost Heart By Jo Segura

If something sounds too good to be true, it's probably because it is—at least that’s what Dr. Socorro “Corrie” Mejía has always heard from her abuela. Still, when she is suddenly presented with the opportunity of a lifetime—the opportunity she has been working for her entire career— Corrie can’t help but get her hopes up. To find the remains of the great Aztec warrior, Chimalli, and his tecpatl sacrificial knife, would prove what Corrie has always known: that despite her reputation (though she really is a total badass), she is in fact a respectable and knowledgeable archeologist, and that Chimalli is her ancestor. Though the offer comes shrouded in mystery, Corrie takes a leap of faith and heads to the Mexican jungle, prepared to lead the expedition that will change her life.

Upon arriving Corrie realizes her intuition was correct and she has made a horrible mistake. Not only is she not leading the expedition, which started months before she even received an invitation, but the lead is her dangerously handsome and totally hateful long-time nemesis, Dr. Ford Matthews. Adding this to the list of things Ford has mercilessly taken from her, Corrie is ready to take the next flight back home, but after some convincing, Corrie agrees to join the team.

“Raiders of the Lost Heart is a perfect romcom; the conversation between these enemies-turned-lovers is adorable and heartfelt and the subplots are just as exciting. I was especially surprised by the thoughtful, and even playful, approach Segura takes on some deep and serious topics. ”

For Ford, having Corrie around isn't much better, he knows just how much he’s hurt her in the past, and how much more hurt she’d be if she found out just how easily he stole this project from her. But with his mother in the hospital, he has little choice but to lean on Corrie to make the dig work. After a rocky start, they begin to open up and learn to trust each other. From there, it isn't long before they give in to the mutual attraction that has always driven the hate and constant competition between the two. As if hiding a budding relationship is not enough pressure—not that either of them is sure this could be called a relationship—they soon realize artifacts are missing, and now they must find the thief and keep their discoveries safe.

Raiders of the Lost Heart is a perfect romcom; the conversation between these enemies-turned-lovers is adorable and heartfelt and the subplots are just as exciting. I was especially surprised by the thoughtful, and even playful, approach Segura takes on some deep and serious topics. Throughout the novel, Corrie and Ford have some meaningful conversations on the loss of a parent, the patriarchal practices of a male-dominated field, and the effects of embracing one’s sexuality. 

This novel is definitely a must-read. Personally, I hope to see more of the Adventures of Badass Mejía and Weak Sauce Matthews, as Corrie would call it.

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Photo: © Sean Hoyt

USA Today bestselling author Jo Segura lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and doggo, who vies for her attention with his sweet puppy dog eyes whenever she’s trying to write (her dog, that is… though sometimes her husband, too). Her stories feature strong, passionate heroines and draw upon aspects of her life, such as her love of good food, her Mexican heritage, and her fascination with archaeology. When she’s not writing you can find her practicing law, shaking up a mean cocktail, or sitting out on the patio doing Buzzfeed quizzes (though she doesn’t care what the chicken nugget quiz said–her favorite fruit is not banana).

Alejandra Cid is a proud Angeleno, a product of Southeast LA. She is a graduate of the University of Southern California from which she earned a B.A. in Narrative Studies and a M.A. in Literary Editing and Publishing. Alejandra loves all things fiction, but is especially drawn to romance, women's fiction, and short stories. She is interested in storytelling, the (positive) power of social media, and creating accessible, inclusive, and engaging spaces.. 

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

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

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

“Just you,” Dulce responds.

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

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

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

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

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

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Interview: Shut Up, This Is Serious by Carolina Ixta

A dark cloud hangs over Belén Dolores Itzel Del Toro’s world in East Oakland. Her father abandoned her family. Her mother – a teacher – has begun to disappear after work, so Belén comes home to an empty house most days. And her older sister, Ava, constantly lectures her about not ending up like their dad.

“I don’t really know what I want to be. It isn’t my fault,” Belén narrates. “After my pa left, I’d cut class, collect my Wendy’s money, and go home to lie in bed. I laid there because I felt like I couldn’t move, like my body was tethered to the mattress.”

At school, Belén cuts class often. She’s now at risk of not graduating high school. There’s also her best friend, Leti, who is expecting a baby with her boyfriend and hasn’t broken the news yet to her parents because he’s Black and they’re racist.

Shut Up, This Is Serious (out now from Quill Tree Books/HarperCollins) is debut author Carolina Ixta’s unforgettable YA novel about a Latina teen’s circuitous path towards healing, and life’s complexities along the way. I found this to be such a richly rendered story with great nuance, care, and an unflinching eye on Ixta’s behalf towards issues like anti-Black racism and inequities in education. Shut Up, This Is Serious is at times heartbreaking, maddening, and hopeful. I didn’t want the novel to end, but was anxious to see where Belén and Leti would end up.

Ixta – herself a Mexican-American from Oakland – spoke with Latinx in Publishing about the inspiration behind Shut Up, This Is Serious, why she chose to address certain real-life issues in her book, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Amaris Castillo (AC): Congratulations on Shut Up, This Is Serious! I read that the inspiration behind your novel was driven, in part, by some resentment you felt growing up in the YA market. Can you elaborate?

Carolina Ixta (CI): The YA market when I was growing up was not at all what it’s like today. And I will say I think we have a long way to go, still, in YA. But when I was growing up, the big names were John Green and Sarah Dessen. The Hunger Games became very popular. Twilight was still very popular. But there just weren’t any Latinos apart from a handful. I remember the book that everyone talked about was The House on Mango Street, which was published in the 80s. There were a couple others, but they were very few and far between. 

When I was younger, I was writing competitively with the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards, and I was doing their novel writing category. I would do it every year. When I got to college, I took this class on Latino literature… It was the first time that I was reading work by other Latino writers. This was in the literary fiction world, so it was not YA. I was really stunned by the repertoire that the lit fic community had to choose from. I know there’s diversity issues there, as well, but they seem to have so much more. 

I look back at my old work that I’d written when I was in high school or before, and I realize that every character I had written was white. And I had no idea. I just wasn’t cognizant enough of their identity, of my own identity, and I chalked it up a lot to reproducing what I was consuming… I was reading a bunch of books about white people and, somehow in my subconscious, thinking those were my own experiences when they really weren’t. And then reproducing them – writing these characters that were white that weren’t dealing with any of the real issues that I was dealing with in my life. So I felt very resentful. I finished school and went to Berkeley for graduate school. And I started writing a book and reading a lot of middle grade because I was a fifth-grade teacher. In my time away from YA, I realized that there had been this beginning of a renaissance, I’ll say, where I was able to go into the middle grade and YA sections and suddenly there were these big names like Elizabeth Acevedo, Erika L. Sánchez and Jason Reynolds. 

Again, I want to emphasize (that) I feel like we still have lots and lots and lots of work to do. But I didn’t want to feel like I was the first in a conversation. I wanted to feel like I was in conversation with other people. And it was the first time I was able to feel that way. So that’s what really led me to write the book.

AC: Your book largely centers on Belén, a teen from East Oakland who is struggling after her father abandoned the family. She is also at risk of not graduating. She is an incredibly compelling character who doesn’t always make the best choices. What was it like to form this character?

CI: Belén was a really challenging character for me to form because I related to her, but I really didn’t at the same time. I related a lot to her family structure; I was also raised by a single parent. But in terms of her academic performance in high school, I was not that. I was very much an AP student. I did all of my homework. I was a good student growing up. But because I studied to be a teacher, I found that most of the time when students are “underperforming” or truant or missing class, it’s because there’s usually issues at home. If not, they’re responding to systemic obstacles placed in front of them that are working. 

One of the reviews I read of this book was like, ‘Belén hates school.’ I was like, ‘No, no, no. Actually, I think school hates Belén.’ She’s not on the right track. She has teachers who really couldn’t care less what she’s doing. So when I wrote her, I very much wanted her to be opposite to me in my experiences as a student. I wanted her to be opposite to Leti. She’s (Belén) underperforming. She’s cutting class all the time. And I very much wanted her to follow an anti-hero arc; every solution that would seem so clear from the vantage point of a reader or even an adult, she’s not going to take. Because she’s young, right? She’s making a lot of mistakes. I think what made her such an interesting character to write is that she’s making so many mistakes and that the path out of her issues seems very clear, but to her as a 17-year-old girl, it really isn’t. 

In earlier drafts of the book, she’s not making that many mistakes. She’s a little bit too mature. So as I worked with her character, I wanted her to make mistakes and be almost empowered by the mistakes that she is making – specifically in this romantic relationship that she gets into. She’s privy to some information that I think any other cognitive person would be like, ‘Ooh, you should probably stop doing that.’ But given the nature of the situation that she’s in, she’s very much like, ‘This is all I have left.’ I really wanted her character to be a character where the answer seems so clear: ‘Go to class. Do your homework. Don’t go out with this guy.’ But at the same time, I wanted to give her so much of an introspective monologue, where readers then can walk away saying something like, ‘Well, it would make sense why she would do that. She’s in a very, very challenging position.’

For her character, it was really important for me to make sure she was making mistakes that were relevant to a 17-year-old’s experience, but also relevant to someone who’s going through a profoundly challenging time that even some adults haven’t gone through. So for Belén specifically, it was very much walking the line of making her empowered but also still making her immature and making her a child, and behave very much like a child.

AC: You touch on some real-life issues within our community: anti-Blackness, colorism in the Latinx community, inequity in education, differences in class. You’re also an elementary school teacher. What drove you to address these themes in your novel?

CI: Very much my experiences growing up, and then the experience of being a teacher. I am a white-presenting Latina. My sister is not. She’s a Black-presenting Latina, even though nobody in our family is Black. It’s interesting how that can happen. I had a very easy childhood growing up. My nickname meant ‘pretty.’ I was favored by my grandparents because I was so pale and white, and I had green eyes. As I got older and became cognizant of issues around race generally, I then became very cognizant of issues about race in the Latino community. So the caste system, the effects of colonization, all of that. I was taking a lot of classes on ethnic studies and critical race theory in my undergrad, and then in my graduate school experience. And I was learning a lot. I literally felt my brain growing some days.

“When I thought about the book, I was like, well, I want readers to walk away with knowledge that maybe they didn’t have before. But I can’t just sit there and give these dictionary definitions. It’s too boring. It’s too dry. So I have to make sure they’re embedded into the story. ”

I became a fifth-grade teacher, and my students were going through exactly everything I had gone through as a child. They were repeating these words and this really aggressive language, specifically to their Black peers. And when I would call for parent-teacher conferences, their parents would be like, ‘Well, what is the problem?’ It reminded me a lot of my upbringing; my parents and my family members would similarly make these very racist backhanded comments. I didn’t realize they were a problem until I was in university, or somewhat high school age. I didn’t know it was a huge problem, and a problem I had language for where I can point to mestizaje, colorism, caste system, and blanqueamiento. I didn’t have that language until I was in college. And I was looking at my students and really thinking like, Man, if I don’t teach you what these words mean, you may never learn them. And not because I don’t think they’re not going to go to college. I really want them to. But because there are so many obstacles in their path to get there, the largest of them being finance. And many of them would be first-gen students. So it was like, ‘I can’t guarantee all of you are going to have the same path that I had. So I have to teach you about this stuff’....

When I thought about the book, I was like, well, I want readers to walk away with knowledge that maybe they didn’t have before. But I can’t just sit there and give these dictionary definitions. It’s too boring. It’s too dry. So I have to make sure they’re embedded into the story. A lot of that came with attempting not to underestimate my readers, and just throwing it in there in a subtle way and letting them make their own connections.

AC: Let’s talk about the stereotype of teen pregnancy among Latinas. It is something Belén seems keenly aware of as it relates to her best friend, Leti. Can you talk about how you chose to address this stereotype and turn it on its head?

CI: It’s so funny to me because I never thought I would write about teen pregnancy. It was never something that was super pressing in my mind. I wanted to write more about sex, and sex for Latinas and sex for young women – and our perceived notions about Latinas and young women who are sexually active. And I think the only way I could do that was if I did make Leti’s character pregnant. Leti is obviously a character who you wouldn’t imagine would get pregnant, right? She’s like a very nerdy AP student. She’s very, very devoutly Catholic. But when I was younger, I remember having pregnant classmates. As early as seventh grade, I remember having a classmate who was pregnant, who was Latina. And I remember the way that the teachers treated her. They treated her like she was some kind of zoo animal and as if she was lesser than. I didn’t have the language then. I just was observant.

I went to a very big public high school. We would have pregnant girls, and it was just kind of par for the course. There were just too many of us to really care too much. But as I got older, when I went to university, again, I was taking all of these classes and learning a lot about the tropes of the Latina pregnant girl and of the promiscuous, sexy, hot Latina – and where these things come from. 

Specifically in regards to teen pregnancy, I was learning that statistically it’s not that Latina girls are engaging in sex more than white girls, for example. It’s that most of us are brought up Catholic. So if we’re really pointing fingers, it’s not toward promiscuity. We’re truly pointing fingers at colonization. That goes centuries back. Mexico was colonized by the Spanish and we’re taught to believe certain aspects of the Bible. One of them is that you don’t have sex until you’re married, and you only have sex with your husband and then you don’t use birth control. All seems good and well until you realize that kids are human. Leti, for me, served to exemplify that it’s not because she’s stupid. She’s perhaps one of the smartest characters in the book. It’s not because she’s promiscuous. She’s really not having sex that often. It’s because she was just never taught that this is what happens when you have sex. Or this is what could happen, because in her household, her parents are what I would say almost oppressively Catholic… I wanted Leti’s character and her arc to really show that the archetype and the stereotype of the pregnant Latina is usually posited to readers and to media consumers without much context. If you know the history of colonization, if you know the Catholic Church, and if you know young teenagers, teen pregnancies specifically for Latinos makes lots of sense. Because we can preach all we want about not having premarital sex and abstinence being the best way, but kids are kids, right? They need to experiment and do what they’re gonna do. They’re human beings… 

And I wanted readers to understand that a pregnancy is not the end of a life. It truly, biologically, is the beginning of another one, but also just a different path for someone to take. And to also address some of the stigmas around premarital sex and teen pregnancy.

AC: What are you hoping readers take away from Shut Up, This Is Serious?

CI: I wrote this book with Latino readers in mind first, and I’m hopeful that everyone else takes something away from it as well. But for the Latino readers: I really want folks to really think deeply and critically about our racial identity, and to not shy away from thinking about race. We talk all the time about how people are discriminatory toward Latinos, which is very true. We talk less about how we are discriminatory toward each other, and then how we are discriminatory toward other racial groups. So I want that to be the first thing that folks walk away from. 

I also wrote this book for Latina women. I want them to walk away understanding that they’re seen and they’re valued. I think Belén’s story, despite her being a Latina girl, is pretty ubiquitous in theme of asking for help when you need it and understanding that abandonment is not the end of life. It really truly is just the beginning of a different one. And to think of absence as presence after a lot of grief and healing. That’s really what I wanted folks to walk away from.

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Carolina Ixta is a writer from Oakland, California. A daughter of Mexican immigrants, she received her BA in creative writing and Spanish language and literature at the University of California, Santa Cruz, and obtained her master’s degree in education at the University of California, Berkeley. She is currently an elementary school teacher whose pedagogy centers critical race theory at the primary education level. Shut Up, This Is Serious is her debut novel.

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

Book Review: Breakup from Hell

One of my first reviews for Latinx in Pub was The Storyteller’s Death by Ann Dávila Cardinal. It was her adult fiction debut; it was a novel that touched me and helped me learn about Puerto Rico in such a personal way. So, when the opportunity to review one of Cardinal’s young adult novels came up, I jumped on the chance to review it. If you are looking for a quick heart-pumping unique young adult fantasy romance to add to your February TBR, look no further!

Breakup From Hell by Ann Dávila Cardinal is a fast-paced and surprisingly funny young adult novel that questions the desire to save the bad boy because the bad boy might not always deserve to be saved. Breakup From Hell follows the tale of Miguela Angeles, a teenager living in a small town in Vermont where she feels trapped. Her abuela is keeping secrets from her and she is tired of experiencing the same day over and over. That is until she runs into a new boy named Sam outside of church. With Sam blowing into town, Miguela jumps at the chance for something new and she begins to change. She is turning her back on her best friends and they are worried. But in the midst of Miguela’s new whirlwind romance, she cannot help but feel like something is wrong. As she unravels the secrets her abuela is keeping from her, Miguela soon realizes she is living in something akin to her favorite horror novels. Miguela’s journey is full of twists, turns, betrayals, revenge, and (unexpected) love.

Cardinal’s Breakup From Hell uses religious themes that are important to many Puerto Rican homes to show how individuals can find their own power and change the course of not only their lives but the lives of those around them. This book also highlights the sacrifices families, specifically mothers, make to protect their children. Cardinal’s work points to the strength in our maternal figures, allowing young women to see themselves as strong, as the savior they need instead of being saved. Miguela follows in her mother’s footsteps and is guided by the strength of multiple material figures in this book. There is a beautiful craftsmanship to this book where religion guides without becoming all-consuming for the characters in a way that I think can be aspiring and potentially healing to those with a difficult relationship with Christianity.

“Breakup From Hell is a rich adventure story where a young Puerto Rican woman gets to become her own hero. It has a rich creativity and blends culture, heritage, and religion into a unique story to highlight the growth and strength teenagers have within themselves.”

I am so glad that I read this book; it feels like Cardinal looked into the brain of my teenage self and wrote the book that was sitting on my heart to read. Breakup From Hell is a rich adventure story where a young Puerto Rican woman gets to become her own hero. It has a rich creativity and blends culture, heritage, and religion into a unique story to highlight the growth and strength teenagers have within themselves. This book is a wonderful read for those who are looking to diversify their reads and to celebrate the joy of a young girl who just went through a breakup from hell.

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Ann Dávila Cardinal is a writer and director of student recruitment for Vermont College of Fine Arts, where she earned her MFA in writing. Her young adult horror novels include Breakup from Hell and Five Midnights and its sequel, Category Five, and she also writes screenplays and podcasts with her son, Carlos Victor Cardinal. Ann lives with her family just north of Stowe, Vermont, and is always on the lookout for shadow demons. Visit her online at anndavilacardinal.com.

TEREZA LOPEZ (she/her) is a recent graduate from Clark University with a double major in English and history. She attended Clark University again in Fall 2021 and obtained a Master’s in communication. When she is not studying, you can find her obsessively reading or taking care of her new kitten.

Book Review: A Place to Anchor by: Estela Casas

A Place to Achor: Journalism, Cancer, and Rewriting Mi Vida is an autobiography written by Estela Casas. In her autobiography, Casas gives the reader the opportunity to see inside her life, focusing on her work as a journalist and her journey with cancer. As a news anchor in El Paso, TX, Casas was a constant presence in the homes of her viewers. She was a trusted voice, helping viewers through tragic and trying times, eventually learning, that with her own personal life changing news, she would have to trust others as well as reinvent herself.

Casas’ story is one of courage under fire. She is taken by surprise with the diagnosis of thyroid and bilateral breast cancer. She was used to being the one who reported on the news, keeping her life private but everything changed. Quickly, she became the news and her life was no longer private. Casas decided to open herself up to her viewers, who became both her reason to live and her motivation to change who she was and how she saw herself.

As a journalist, you are privy to many behind-the-scenes circumstances. You pick and choose how and what to report, in order for viewers to make informed decisions. However, when your life becomes the news, it’s even harder to strip away your bias and beliefs. Fear, vulnerability, and faith become a constant. You hardly recognize who you’ve become, unsure if this new version of you can go back to how things were. This is what Casas vividly depicts in her story. “Faith or fear” becomes her mantra, she musters her courage and embraces the uncomfortable, all in the hopes of advocating for others to be their own health care advocates. Casas’ wish, other than being alive, is to enjoy her life with her children and watch them grow, to know that her story pushed others to practice self-care, to take an interest in their physical well-being, and to question the power of faith during turbulent times.

During all of these trials, Casas became very aware of just how much she needed her viewers. Casas’ decision to let the viewers into her private bubble was one that surprised even her, yet there was never really any doubt about the fact that this is how she had to experience it all. The viewers needed to know what was going on and Casas needed to share, but most importantly, she needed her viewers’ support. With each chapter of the book, each turn of the page, the reader is drawn into the shared experience. When Casas is faced with a challenge, feels free, embraces her looks changing, and starts rediscovering her faith in God, we are there right with her.

“Casas’ wish, other than being alive, is to enjoy her life with her children and watch them grow, to know that her story pushed others to practice self-care, to take an interest in their physical well-being, and to question the power of faith during turbulent times. ”

The book resonated with me, as my life seemed to mirror some of Estela’s experiences: an orphan, a mother, Latinx, a journalist, and a survivor, not of cancer but a number of near-catastrophic brain bleeds that required emergency brain surgery. Our stories are not the same exactly, but I was able to empathize with Casas and her journey. The book is a story of a life and of a death. The death of old self to a newer thriving ever changing better version of herself. I am certain you will find a nugget of wisdom or two in Casas’ journey. You will laugh, cry, become fearful and hopeful, while also finding yourself in Casas’ journey. I loved this book and I think you will too.

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Estela Casas is a first-generation El Pasoan, mother, cancer thriver, and philanthropist. She is a former English and Spanish language news anchor and journalist who used her platform to not only report the news, but find ways to make a difference in her community. Estela founded the Stand with Estela Casas Cancer Foundation to help increase awareness about breast cancer and raise money to help uninsured women on their cancer journeys.

In her 37 years as a prime-time television news anchor, Estela has highlighted issues of education and health for underserved communities. She eventually found herself the subject of her own reporting, bringing her loyal viewers with her as she shared personal stories about her chemotherapy treatments and surgeries. As a two-time cancer survivor, Estela aims to show women that they too can successfully wage the war against any challenge—not just cancer. Estela firmly believes that her strong faith and love of family, friends, and strangers helped transform her into a better version of herself.

Angela “Angie” Ybarra is a senior student enrolled in the Nontraditional Degree Program (NDP) at Northeastern Illinois University. She hopes to work as a grant writer to assist local nonprofit organizations that address the issues of gentrification within Chicago's NorthWest side and help them find funding for their work. Angie loves to give her audience the opportunity to formulate their own views by presenting the facts or points of interest with the hope to move her audience into action.

“Journalism is what maintains democracy. It’s the force for progressive social change.” —Andrew Vachss, Author

Book Review: The Making of Yolanda La Bruja by Lorraine Avila

Sometimes the title of a book is all you need to see in order to decide whether or not you want to read it but this book brought the full package. The Making of Yolanda La Bruja by Lorraine Avila does not disappoint. From the title, to the powerful cover image, I was immediately drawn. The content of this book is also so well written that you are hooked from the start. The first chapter starts us on a journey and keeps us captured until the skillful wrap-up of the story in the final chapter.

As the story opens, the reader is treated to some of the mystical charms of Yolanda’s ancestors and her culture. Have you ever experienced a tarot card reading before? Well, Yolanda’s family lives a life full of tradition that is seeped in this way of life. They have beliefs in the powers that be and tarot cards, visions, and spells are part of their everyday life. This YA book is relevant to today’s issues, giving us a look at what school can be like for teenagers nowadays. Think fire drills versus active shooter drills. Yolanda’s unique abilities can be chalked up to being good at reading people but the storyline shows us that it is so much more than that. Yolanda is a seer of sorts and when a new boy transfers into her school, she gets a strange feeling about him. We join Yolanda on her adventures to try and stop a tragic event befalling her school and community.

Rich in so many traditions, The Making of Yolanda La Bruja gives us a deeper look at Brujeria and how it can be viewed as a religious experience, specifically pertaining to the story, in the Dominican Republic. A young girl living in the Bronx, excited to be turning 16, Yolanda is about to be further introduced to Brujeria. Throughout the story, she is faced with the challenge of trying to show a young boy what is special about her community, hoping that this will keep him from performing a most heinous act that could alter the face of her beloved community.

This book is rich, filled with flavorful words that come together to paint a coming-of-age story that centers tradition, religion, and the reality of being a teenager faced with the possibility of a tragic incident, too familiar to many people and communities across the United States and the world.

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Lorraine Avila (she/they) is a storyteller. Lorraine was born and raised in the Bronx, NY and is a first generation Dominican-American. Avila spent a decade as an educator in the K-12 education system. She has a BA from Fordham University in English, an MA in Teaching from New York University, and an MFA from the University of Pittsburgh. The Making of Yolanda La Bruja is her YA debut.

Angela “Angie” Ybarra is a senior student enrolled in the Nontraditional Degree Program (NDP) at Northeastern Illinois University. She hopes to work as a grant writer to assist local nonprofit organizations that address the issues of gentrification within Chicago's NorthWest side and help them find funding for their work. Angie loves to give her audience the opportunity to formulate their own views by presenting the facts or points of interest with the hope to move her audience into action.

“Journalism is what maintains democracy. It’s the force for progressive social change.” —Andrew Vachss, Author