To all of our readers, Happy New Year 2026!
Para todos nuestros lectores, ¡Feliz año nuevo 2026!
The world's longest-established Chicana Chicano, Latina Latino literary blog.
To all of our readers, Happy New Year 2026!
Para todos nuestros lectores, ¡Feliz año nuevo 2026!
La Bloga-Tuesday welcomes Guest Reviewer Rey Rodriguez and a book adding insight to a story of a neglected daughter-famous father, in this case Mexican Nobelist Octavio Paz’ daughter. Today’s lead article celebrates things found in the ruins of the Eaton fire.
Stuff Not Lost In the Fire: Treasures of Memory
Michael Sedano
Stuff that goes through fire and dug from the ashes come back like a scarred phenix, changed in its passage through the crucible into renewed versions of their essential selves, the memories they hold impervious to the firestorm.
My father’s strong box held his WWII memorabilia along with Dad’s high school graduation watch, treasures from his courtship of my mother, precious times of his days on this earth. The warped lid rests uncomfortably on the contorted blistered box.
Barbara’s heart collection featured a colorful ceramic corazón that was born in fire and emerges from fire in two pieces, its bright contours coated with an orange oxidation sweated out of the glaze the clay’s second firing. I hesitate to wash away the sweat.
A Review: Con Garro y Sin Paz, presented by Todos Santos Writers Workshop at Beyond Baroque.
Rey Rodriguez
Iván Salinas continues to curate important events that transcend borders and draw on our Latino past to inform the present.
On December 5, 2025, I attended his latest entitled, Con Garro y Sin Paz, presented by Todos Santos Writers Workshop and held at Beyond Baroque (https://www.beyondbaroque.org/). This event was a reading, conversation, and book signing of Marcela Magdalena Deschamps’ latest book, Con Garro y Sin Paz. It is an extraordinary story inspired by the life of Helena Paz Garro, the daughter of the famous Mexican literary couple of Octavio Paz and Elena Garro.
Helena Paz Garro often talked about the distance that she felt from her father following the events of 1968 in Tlatelolco, where soldiers shot down hundreds of students, when she and her mother were accused of orchestrating the student movement. Ultimately, though, Paz Garro forgave him despite his abandonment of her. Elena Garro was considered one of Mexico’s finest writers, but because she was a woman, she did not receive the acclaim she deserved. Paz and Elena Garro were married in 1937. They had one daughter, Helena, and divorced in 1959.
It is with this backdrop that Professor Marcela Becerra García, California State University Channel Islands, interviewed Deschamps to discuss her fascinating book, which tells the tale of a forgotten house in Cuernava where Paz Garro lives the last days of her life among feral cats and ghosts of the past. Paz Garro is a complicated character who could not have children because she was raped at the age of three and contracted syphilis. The disease and its treatment ensured that she would never bear children. The rape likely led to a life of deep mental illness, which was largely left untreated.
Nevertheless, Paz Garro was surrounded by books and literature and was extremely well educated in European boarding schools. As a result, her great legacy is her poetry, which Deschamps keeps alive in her novel by including unedited versions of some of her most lyrical verses.
It is important to note that Octavio Paz often did not even mention his daughter’s existence. This absence is notable and makes Deschamps' work even more important than ever to ensure that both Elena Garro and Helena Paz Garro are studied and remembered. Any discussion of Mexican literature and Paz’s legacy is incomplete without a discussion of these two important female writers. Deschamps revives their memory and honors them by writing this extraordinary book that becomes a must-read if we are to truly understand Mexican literature and the unsung role that women played in it.
About Rey Rodriguez:
Rey M. Rodríguez is a writer, advocate, and attorney. He lives in Pasadena, California. He is working on a novel set in Mexico City and a non-fiction history of a prominent nonprofit in East LA. He has attended the Yale Writers' Workshop multiple times and Palabras de Pueblo workshop once. He also participates in Story Studio's Novel in a Year Program. He is a first-year fiction creative writing student at the Institute for American Indian Arts' MFA Program. His poetry is published in Huizache. His other interviews and book reviews can be found at La Bloga, the world's longest-established Chicana-Chicano, Latina-Latino literary blog, Chapter House's Storyteller’s Blog, Pleiades Magazine, and the Los Angeles Review.
“Carmín bordado en el cielo”, “Crimson Embroidered into the Sky”, “Κρεμεζί κεντημένο στον ουρανό” por Xánath Caraza
Carmín bordado en
el cielo
De ámbar líquido rebosa el hontanar.
La ondulada tarde colmada
de canoras melodías.
La sangre brota de la tierra
y mancha el cielo crepuscular.
Chocan los sentimientos
insoportable dolor.
Canta, justicia divina,
manifiéstate entre nosotros,
salva a tus hijas.
Allá, acá,
cerca y lejos,
dentro y fuera es
donde te necesitamos.
No más muertes de inocentes mujeres.
No más muertes de gente con hambre.
No más niños huyendo de la muerte.
No más mujeres desaparecidas.
No más padres tragados por la oscuridad.
¿Cómo vivir con el carmín bordado en el cielo?
¿Cómo andar los pasos cubiertos de sangre?
¿Cómo escribir con las manos adoloridas?
¿Cómo cantar si de mis labios escurre dolor?
Líquido amor,
corazón áureo,
entiérrate en mi alma,
deslava esta noche violenta.
Crimson Embroidered into the Sky
Natural springs spill over with liquid amber.
The undulating evening is saturated
by warbling melodies.
Blood sprouts from the earth
and stains the twilight sky.
Emotions collide,
unbearable pain.
Sing, divine justice,
take shape among us,
bring salvation to your daughters.
Here and there,
near and far,
inside and out,
that is where we
need you.
No more deaths of innocent women.
No more deaths of the hungry masses.
No more children fleeing death.
No more women disappeared.
No more parents swallowed by darkness.
How can one live with crimson embroidered into the sky?
How can one walk the paths bathed by blood?
How can one write with hands wracked with pain?
How can I sing with sorrow spilling from my lips?
Liquid love,
heart of gold,
bury yourself in my soul,
wash away this violent night.
Κρεμεζί κεντημένο
στον ουρανό
Από κεχριμπάρι υγρό η πηγή ξεχειλίζει.
Το κυματιστό απόγευμα γεμίζει
από ρυθμικές μελωδίες.
Το αίμα αναβλύζει απ’ τη γη
και λεκιάζει τον ουρανό του δειλινού.
Συγκρούονται τα συναισθήματα
αβάσταχτος πόνος.
Τραγούδα, δικαιοσύνη θεϊκή,
φανερώσου ανάμεσά μας,
σώσε τις κόρες σου.
Εκεί, εδώ,
κοντά και μακριά,
μέσα κι έξω είναι
που σε χρειαζόμαστε.
Όχι άλλοι θάνατοι αθώων γυναικών.
Όχι άλλοι θάνατοι ανθρώπων πεινασμένων.
Όχι άλλα παιδιά που τρέχουν να ξεφύγουν απ’ το θάνατο.
Όχι άλλες γυναίκες εξαφανισμένες.
Όχι άλλοι γονείς που τους κατάπιε το σκοτάδι.
Πώς να ζήσω με το κρεμεζί κεντημένο στον ουρανό;
Πώς να περπατήσω με βήματα καλυμμένα από αίμα;
Πώς να γράψω με τα χέρια πονεμένα;
Πώς να τραγουδήσω αν απ’ τα χείλη μου στάζει πόνος;
Υγρή αγάπη,
καρδιά χρυσαφένια,
θάψου στην ψυχή μου,
ξεκάρφωσε αυτή την βίαιη νύχτα.
“Carmín bordado en el cielo” is part of the collection Lágrima roja by Xánath Caraza (Editorial Nazarí, 20217). This collection was originally written in
Spanish. Of the International Latino Book Awards,
Caraza received First Place for Lágrima roja for “Best Book of
Poetry in Spanish by One Author” in 2018.
“Crimson
Embroidered into the Sky” and “Κρεμεζί κεντημένο στον ουρανό” are part of the collection Red Teardrop / Κόκκινο δάκρυ (Pandora Lobo Estepario Productions, 2022). This collection by Caraza was translated into
the English by Sandra Kingery and Aaron Willsea, and into the Greek by Natasa
Lambrou. Of the International Latino Book Awards, in 2023, Red
Teardrop received Gold Medal for Best Fiction Book Translation—Spanish to
English.
Cover art by
Miguel López Lemus.
by Ernest Hogan
And suddenly, Idaho! The Gringo West. Away from Aztlán and the influence of Uto-Aztecan cultures. Still Sasquatchlandian, but away from the Pacific Ocean. No mermaids in this cool desert. Speed limit 50 mph on the 84 East. A different culture in the Great American Rasquache Mix.
I spilled coffee on my sketchbook in the gonzo tradition.
It got warm. I had to ditch my jacket while marveling at possible locations for the surrealistic spaghetti western of my dreams when I spotted something truly unexpected. A sign: MIRACLE HOT SPRINGS–CAUTION: ALLIGATORS.
Is that where they get the alligator meat for the jerky I keep seeing advertised?
Scenes of an alligator ranch flashed through my brain.
I Googled it–it’s real. There used to be an alligator farm in the area, which you’d think would be too cold. They have had gators since 1959. Now they only have one alligator, called Lola and then Alfie in two articles for 2024. Another mystery . . .
And not enough for the wide-screen reptile stampede I was imaging. Oh well . . .
Next was Burley. Mike pointed out a trucker driving and drinking a can of Coors as we approached via I-84.
I shed my overshirt and rolled up my sleeves. Saw a cybertruck, presumably on its way to Mars. There were lots of Chinese and Mexican restaurants, thrift stores, and weird photo ops in a post-apocalyptic environment.
I also found some emergency replacement sunglasses.
However, there was no deli in Rupert.
Then I put my overshirt back on. Those icy Idaho winds. Soon we were in Utah, home of the Utes, upper edge of Uto-Nahuatl country.
Of course, now there’s a strong Mormon influence, men’s and women's restrooms are on the opposite sides of buildings. It’s the same with the clothes in the thrift stores. The prophets forbid a young man might decide to try on a used temple dress. They would probably give Calamity Jane a bad time.
Then it got warm, I took off my overshirt again.
Farris Ice Cream in Ogden has a good selection of sorbet and sherbet for my lactose- intolerant guts. There were also full-size skeletons in Halloween drag. An employee and some local kids passing by were in punk/goth regalia. Looked like it was the local hip hangout, across the street from a Mormon temple.
Brown folks were on the streets and working in stores.There was also a spectacular neon dragon, and signs of Día de los Muertos. Could the fusion into Dead Daze happen here in a few years?
There was even graffiti in an alley.
Finally, Wyoming, and another cultural vibe. Billboards for cannabis, fireworks, and vaping were right across the border. I imagine the ice cream shop hipsters making pilgrimages.
We ate at a Costa Vida (the Mexican Panda Express). I asked for their hottest sauce on my burrito. Any sign of chili was overwhelmed by the barbecue sauce on the sweet pork. Like I said, the Gringo West.
Ernest Hogan's latest story, "Doula," is in Sound Systems: The Future of the Orchestra, now available to buy in paperback or download as a free ebook. Another adventure of Paco Cohen, Mariachi of Mars, will be in Xicanxfuturism: Gritos for Tomorrow/Codex II in February--meanwhile buy Codex I, where he's mentioned and there's a lot of stuff that will inspire you to survive 2026.
Written by Donna Barba Higuera.
Illustrated by Juliana Perdomo
*Publisher: Harry N. Abrams
*Edition: Bilingual
*Print length: 40 pages
*ISBN-10: 1419760130
*ISBN-13: 978-1419760136
*Reading age: 4 - 8 years
A boy and his monster from under the bed celebrate Navidad—Christmas—in It’s Navidad, El Cucuy!, a festive, bilingual picture book from Newbery Medal–winning author Donna Barba Higuera and illustrator Juliana Perdomo.
Ramón is a little boy who can’t wait for Navidad.
El Cucuy is the friendly monster who lives in Ramón’s bedroom. He’s not so sure that Christmas is for him. The lights are too bright, and the snowman is scary!
So if El Cucuy is hesitant to embrace the holiday cheer, then Ramón will have to bring the spirit of Navidad to him.
A tender, heartwarming story about facing the unknown with a friend by your side, this companion to El Cucuy Is Scared, Too! explores the magic of the holidays and coming together as a community.
Features an overview of the traditions behind Las Posadas, a festival beginning on December 16th and ending on Nochebuena (Christmas Eve) that is celebrated in Mexico and parts of Latin America and the United States.
Review
"El Cucuy’s latest foray into unfamiliar terrain nonetheless reassures readers who may find themselves in similar situations. A sweet invitation to enjoy Navidad."―Kirkus
"This straightforward narrative is perfect for a holiday story time that includes awareness of how other cultures celebrate Christmas. A kindhearted Christmas story highlighting the power of friendship.” ―School Library Journal
"Continuing the themes of welcoming and belonging from El Cucuy Is Scared, Too!, this is an enjoyable addition to the quirky series."―The Horn Book Magazine
Donna Barba Higuera grew up dodging dust devils in the oil fields of central California. She was a daydreamer, constantly blending life experiences and folklore into stories. Now she weaves them into picture books and novels. Higuera currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, four children, three dogs, and two frogs. El Cucuy Is Scared, Too! was her debut picture book, and she is also the author of the middle-grade novels The Last Cuentista, winner of the Newbery Medal and Pura Belpré Award, and Lupe Wong Won’t Dance, winner of a Pura Belpré Honor, the Sid Fleischman Award for Humor, and a Pacific Northwest Booksellers Award.
Juliana Perdomo is a Colombian illustrator and writer with a background as a psychologist and art therapist. Her work is joyful and heartfelt, folkish, and a bit retro with a Latin touch. Perdomo lives in Bogotá, Colombia, with her amazing son, Luca, her rocker partner, Iván, and a funny old dog named Menta.