October was split between Málaga and the States, between literary matters and family and friends.

New book, new author photo

The novel that I began writing in 2015 while at an artist residency at Ragdale will be published in fall 2026. Eleven years from start to finish! Those years included writing, revising, working a day job, revising some more, querying agents, racking up rejections, retiring from my day job, revising again, moving from Seattle to Málaga, submitting to contests and independent presses, and waiting and hoping a lot. Not to mention aging. Those years also included the publication and promotion of two other books, Hola and Goodbye and Living Color. And now, I’m tremendously pleased that my latest novel Ofelia and Norma has landed with Regal House Publishing.

What’s the book about? Broadly, its themes include sisterhood, body image, and family dynamics. If you’ve read my collection Hola and Goodbye, you might remember the story called “Strong Girls” which is the seed for the novel Ofelia and Norma. While the story focused on the adolescent years of the twin sisters, the novel takes these characters into adulthood when they go their separate ways to face alone the perils of an anti-large-body world.

A new book requires an updated author photo, so I contacted a local photographer in Málaga. I had assumed he had a studio in the Centro where I live, but he asked me to meet him at the fountain in the Plaza de la Marina. All my previous author photos had been done by Seattle photographer Meryl Schenker, and we often did a mix of indoor and outdoor shots. It turned out that this Málaga photographer only shot outdoors. It was a breezy evening so I could count on my hair sticking up and my bangs in windblown disarray. Also, having my picture taken in a public space makes me hyper-self-conscious, so my smile is often tentative and my whole being restrained, a combination of poor posture and a futile attempt at being invisible. But if the photographer takes enough photos, there are bound to be a handful that grow on you the more you squint at them.

If you put on a reading, who will come?

When I lived in Seattle I participated in a lot of readings and organized quite a few myself. Prior to each event, there was the inevitable anxiety about whether anyone would come. I mean it’s always nice to have an audience no matter the size. But what if no one shows up? Well, after the feelings of loneliness and rejection, life goes on.

Still, what possessed me to organize a reading in Málaga to showcase the work of the writing group I belonged to? The group had been slowly losing steam for lack of consistent attendance and more recently a vacancy in the leadership. We were watching its dissolution in progress. The reading would be our swan song. Would anyone come to hear it? We distracted ourselves by practicing our writerly poses.

Some people said they would come, or they would try to come but ended up not coming, which is not uncommon. People have lives. Luckily, our young neighbor messaged me that day and asked if I still needed bodies to fill chairs. I answered a multi-exclamation pointed YES!!! and he was the first to arrive. My friend Diana, dear supportive soul, reorganized her work schedule to be there. And a Spanish teacher with whom I had once had a conversation Meetup about books messaged that she would be able to come as well. James was there to take photos and videos. And to the delight of everyone, a cheery Irish couple whom none of us knew walked in. I had posted the notice about the event on two Facebook expat groups, and how wonderful to find that that seemingly futile effort had resulted in the arrival of these two congenial extroverts to turn the reading into a party. After each of us read two short pieces, we vacated the private room for the public space in the wine bar where we chatted and drank until closing time. So, I’m calling the event a success—four readers and an audience of six in a wine bar. Cheers to us! Cheers to our audience! Cheers to Bottega Coffee and Wine Bar!

Back to the USA briefly

I embarked on a four-city, eighteen-day visit to the States, which seemed both whirlwind and relaxing. First, was San Diego to see my four siblings and their families and to indulge in foods like tacos and sisig. I have always been the out-of-stater and now am the out-of-country sibling, so I’ve missed a lot of family gatherings. One of my sisters hosted a family dinner so I got to be part of the kind of gathering I usually miss out on. Many thanks to Sandy Miscolta-Parker and Michael Parker for putting me up in a comfy bed in their comfy home.

Next was San Francisco to see daughter Ana and grandson Ilio and attend his epic, Halloween-themed fifth-birthday party, which featured a Jello brain, mask-painting, a play-doh table, a scary-looking witch’s brew, a piñata, a skull-shaped cake, and lots of kids and their adults.

After the dust settled from his birthday party, I took Ilio to get ice cream two blocks away. We sat on the bench outside of Ben and Jerry’s. After he scooped the last of his gummy-bear-laden lemonade sorbet into his mouth and announced, “I’m done,” his eyes fluttered closed and he fell asleep. We sat on the corner of Haight and Ashbury for well over thirty minutes as he slept nestled into my upper arm. It was a grandmother moment. Thanks to Ana and Ilio for making space in their home for me.

I couldn’t be on the West Coast without a few days in Seattle, my hometown for forty-six years. In the mere 58 hours I was there, I was able to see an ophthalmologist, pop into Elliott Bay Book Company, and gather with some friends. Thanks to my dear friend Debra for making me feel completely at home in her cozy apartment.

Then it was on to New York to see daughter Natalie and two-year-old granddaughter Malaya. Their living room couch is an old friend. I arrived on Halloween, the last day in October, and a gorgeous, weirdly warm day and I went trick or treating with Curious George and the Woman in the Yellow Hat. It’s my last stop before my return to Spain on November 5 to watch US election results from afar.