Let me know okay?
George
aka Papi Chulo
Time: Monday, August 7, 8:24 AM
From:
[email protected]
Subject: Hi, from your dad
Dear Sandy,
Thanks for your note. Sorry I didn’t get to see you before you left town. But I’ll be in LA on business in a couple of weeks.
Maybe we can have lunch?
I know I haven’t said it lately, but I’m proud of you and all the things you’re doing. Especially the way you pulled through
after all the crap that happened to you earlier this year. Even though I’ve been busy in my own little world, I hope you know
that I’m always here if you need me. I love you.
Love,
Dad
Tuesday, August 8
Here’s a little story, a pattern in my life.
It was a sunny March afternoon, my first day as a staff writer for Nacho Papi’s Web Site. I was nervous, and unaware that
my life was about to completely change….
S
andy leaned back on the living room sofa and looked out the window at the sun emerging through the Santa Ana haze. She’d gotten
into the habit of waking up early and working in the living room while Megan, who was her landlady and roommate and her friend
Jane’s cousin, slept late. But right now Megan was out of town. In the kitchen behind her Sandy’s sole housewarming gift,
an espresso machine from her mother, gurgled and hissed.
She read her father’s e-mail a second time, then closed it. She’d write back and agree to have lunch with him, but not yet.
Right now she had a lot of work to do. There was her daily quota for the
LA Chronicle
, of course. She had a deadline for a Buzz News article, as well. Then, of course, there was the never-ending technical writing
that made it possible to afford her portion of the rent.
Then there was her own Web site to update, with links to her latest articles. She’d written only one blog entry since moving
out here, and her readers were clamoring to hear more of the story.
She decided to work until one and then drop by her aunt Ruby’s for lunch and a little photo-album viewing. After that, she
had plans to join Tío Jaime and Nephew Richard at the zoo. After that, she was dropping by UCLA’s creative writing department.
Just to take a look.
But first, to work.
Sandy opened her word-processing program and shuffled through her files. There were so many now that she would have to come
up with a new system for organizing them. In a folder called LatinoNow she found an old article she wanted to use as a reference
for something new. Just seeing her old byline, Dominga Saavedra, made her smile, a little sadly. She had been so young back
then. It was only a year ago, but she’d had so much to learn.
In the same folder she found another document that brought back bittersweet memories: a draft of the novel she’d been pretending
to write, way back when she was dating Daniel and fantasizing about being a poet’s muse. She barely remembered, now, what
it had been about. She opened it to find out.
Dominique Salazar closed her laptop on the latest article she’d been writing as her mother’s voice rang in her ears like an
unanswered phone echoing in an empty room. “
When are you going to get married, Dominique? When?
”
Dominique didn’t have time to get married. She was busy working on the news series that was destined to win the Pulitzer Prize.
At least that’s what she was hoping.
“Hey, babe. Do you want to go get a beer with my friends?”
Dominique sighed. That was her boyfriend, David. David was tall, dark, and very handsome. The only problem was, he didn’t
understand her need to write serious news.
Sandy had to laugh, at her own words and at the girl she used to be.
And then she had an idea.
She closed that file and opened a brand-new one. After staring at the empty page for a few minutes, Sandy began to type. As
fast as her fingers could spell it out an outline for a new book appeared.
She was going to write a book about her great-aunt, Linda, from her upbringing in the Rio Grande Valley to her struggle to
become an independent woman, to her realization of the love of a lifetime.
After all, it was a fascinating story, and she had all the resources she needed to write it.
The sun rose higher and shone brighter as Sandy typed away. She was too busy to notice, but, somewhere in the distance, a
chupacabra howled with joy.
Chupacabra means, literally, “goat sucker” in Spanish. It’s a mythical animal that attacks livestock, particularly goats,
and drains them of blood. They’re supposed to be four-legged mammals the size of large dogs or small bears, with spines on
their backs.
I say it’s mythical, but there are people who swear on the Bible they’ve seen them, in Texas and in Puerto Rico, and as recently
as the other day.
I don’t want to call anyone a liar, but I’ve never seen one. I have seen, right in the middle of Houston, a goat hanging in
the doorway of my cousin’s suegro’s garage, skinned and drained in preparation for the making of menudo. But I guess that’s
not exactly the same thing.
My family was more into La Llorona, the ghost-woman who cries for her children in the night. My cousin’s friend’s cousin actually
saw her, outside the cemetery late one night.
My brother swears he saw a Lechuza—an owl of the demonic persuasion—inside the same cemetery, on a completely different occasion,
with minimal liquor involved.
I never see any of that stuff. But I listen to the stories, and I avoid cemeteries at night.
Thanks to Jenny Bent for her perseverance, and to Selina McLemore for her patience and continued mental telepathy. Thanks
to Linda Duggins for being an untiring warrior at my side. Thanks to Karen Thompson for making me look smarter.
Thanks to my bosses and co-workers at VALIC for providing a good place to work, and for not only being tolerant of my other
career but supporting it.
Thanks to all my peeps on Twitter for not unfollowing me when I babbled like a maniac late at night while trying to finish
this book.
Thanks to all my readers for reading my stuff and making the work worth it.
Thanks to Ashley for listening.
Thanks to Dat, who was my fiancé when I started this book and will probably be my husband by the time you read it, for feeding
me while I wrote.
Thanks to Jacob, Austin, and Luke for all their hard work in our band, Led Zepeda, the video-game performances of which kept
me joyous and balanced this past year.
1. Sandy gives various reasons—to her friends, to her fans, to herself—for keeping a blog online. What do you think her real
reasons are?
2. What do you think of the practice of keeping a “journal” online for everyone to see? Do you have a blog? If so, are there
limits on what you’ll discuss in your blog, or on what you think others should discuss in theirs? Did Sandy make mistakes
with what she chose to say in hers?
3. Do you enjoy celebrity gossip? Does it ever go too far? Is it wrong to criticize celebrities’ personal lives? Or is that
the price they pay for wanting to be famous?
4. What is a celebrity? Do you have to be a movie star or pop star? Are authors and journalists celebrities? What about bloggers?
Sandy gossiped about celebrities for her living. Was it okay for her readers to begin gossiping about her? Why or why not?
5. Among Sandy and her co-workers, did you see differing levels in what they were willing to do for fame? Do you notice that
among journalists or entertainment writers in real life?
6. What do you think about Sandy’s relationship with Daniel? What happens when two people in a relationship have similar ambitions?
Can it work out?
7. Sandy is obviously affected by her parents’ divorce even though it takes place when she is an adult. How did it affect
her?
8. What do you think of Sandy’s boss, Angelica? Angelica says Sandy reminds her of a younger version of herself. Is Angelica
a good role model for Sandy?
9. What is Sandy’s relationship to Tío Jaime? Is it realistic for someone her age to befriend someone his age? Do you think
their friendship was genuine? On what was it based?
10. Tío Jaime talks about “crabs in a bucket,” meaning people who drag each other down instead of helping each other achieve
success. Do you know that expression? Do you have any crabs in your bucket? Why do people do that, anyway?
11. What does Sandy’s mother want for her in life? What does Sandy think her mother wants? With which one do you sympathize?
12. Tío Jaime says he doesn’t want to be famous and talks about “false idols.” What does he mean? Sandy doesn’t understand
him. Why not?
13. Have you ever been embarrassed by someone exposing personal details of your life to public scrutiny? How did you handle
it? Did Sandy handle it well?
14. Do you want to be famous? Why or why not?
15. How does Sandy see herself at the beginning of the book? At the middle? At the end?
1. Sandy da varias razones—a sus amigos, a sus fans, a sí misma—por mantener un blog en línea. ¿Qué cree usted son sus razones
verdaderas?
2. ¿Qué piensa usted de la práctica de mantener un “diario” en línea que todo el mundo pueda leer? ¿Tiene usted un blog? ¿Si
es así, hay límites en lo que usted discutirá, o en qué otros deben discutir en el suyo? ¿Se equivocó Sandy con lo que eligió
decir en el suyo?
3. ¿Le gusta a usted al chisme de la celebridad? ¿Cree usted que a veces el chisme es demasiado? ¿Es injusto criticar las
vidas personales de las celebridades? ¿O es el precio que ellos pagan por su fama?
4. ¿Qué es una celebridad? ¿Tiene que ser una estrella del cine o una estrella del pop? ¿Son celebridades los autores y los
periodistas? ¿Y los bloggers? Sandy chismeó sobre las celebridades para ganar la vida. ¿Fue aceptable para que sus lectores
comenzaron a chismear sobre ella? ¿Por qué o por qué no?
5. ¿Entre Sandy y sus compañeros de trabajo, hay diferencias entre lo que estaban dispuestos hacer para la fama? ¿Nota usted
una diferencia entre periodistas y escritores de diversión en la vida real?
6. ¿Qué piensa usted de la relación de Sandy y Daniel? ¿Qué sucede cuando las dos personas en una relación tienen ambiciones
similares? ¿Puede resolverse?
7. Sandy fue obviamente afectada por el divorcio de sus padres, aunque ocurrió cuando ella era adulta. ¿Cómo la afectó?
8. ¿Qué piensa usted de la jefa de Sandy, Angélica? Angélica dice que Sandy le recordó de una versión joven de sí misma. ¿Es
Angélica un buen modelo para Sandy?
9. ¿Cuál es la relación de Sandy y Tío Jaime? ¿Es realista que alguien de la edad de Sandy pueda ser amiga con alguien mucho
más mayor como Tío Jaime? ¿Piensa usted que esta amistad fue auténtica? ¿En qué fue basada?
10. Tío Jaime usa la expresión “cangrejos en un cubo” para describir a la gente que arrastra a otros abajo en vez de ayudarlos
alcanza éxito. ¿Conoce usted esa expresión? ¿Tiene usted cangrejos en su cubo? ¿Por qué lo hacen?
11. ¿Qué desea la madre de Sandy para su hija? ¿Qué piensa Sandy que su madre desea? ¿Con cuál uno se compadece usted?
12. Tío Jaime dice que él no desea ser famoso y habla de “ídolos falsos.” ¿Qué significa él? Sandy no lo comprende. ¿Por qué
no?
13. ¿Se ha avergonzado usted cuando alguien expuso los detalles personales de su vida al escrutinio público? ¿Cómo lo dirigió?
¿Cree usted que Sandy lo dirigió bien?
14. ¿Desea usted ser famoso? ¿Por qué o por qué no?
15. ¿Cómo se ve Sandy al principio del libro? ¿Al medio? ¿Y al fin?
This is my second novel but my fifth book. Before this I wrote:
•
Houston, We Have a Problema
(novel)
•
Sunflowers
(kids’ book)
•
Growing Up with Tamales
(other kids’ book—that one won an award)
•
To the Last Man I Slept With and All the Jerks Just Like Him
(edgy small-press short prose collection)
Actually, I’ve written way more than that, but those are the books I’ve actually sold. Besides that, I did a lot of writing
for various Web sites, back in the day. And, you know, I could tell you about all the rejected manuscripts and the poetry
chapbooks and such, but let’s leave a little for our next meeting, all right?
I was born in balmy inner-city Houston in 1971 and spent a couple of years at the University of Texas at Austin. After that
I had a few kids, then after that I started up with the book selling.
When I’m not writing books for you and hoping you’re enjoying them, I’m hanging out with my kids or my cats or my fiancé,
who will probably be my husband by the time you read this. I also like to read books by other people, and sometimes I make
necklaces or play video games.
If you ever get curious and want to find out more about my life, or see if/when I’m coming to your town, feel free to visit
GwendolynZepeda.com
, which is the latest incarnation of the Web site I’ve been writing since 1997.
Cheers.