Novel Origins
-
- My grandmother, María Asela, is the striking woman looking away from the camera. The other woman, Dahlia, was her beloved sister-in-law. This photograph, circa 1940’s, Cuba, was the first thing I came to when trying to write this novel, and subsequently, the first scene I wrote had to do with a lechón, or roasted pig.
Writing the novel was another way to revisit the saga of my own family. While growing up in Miami, I enjoyed listening to my grandmother, Maria Asela Garcia, tell her vivid stories of growing up in Cuba. My family, like many others, migrated to Miami, but the homeland was still a part of everyday conversation. The “old Cuba” remained frozen in time through my grandmother’s recollections, even as the real Cuba continued to evolve. I was fascinated by the storytelling rituals, and soon began writing stories, as well.
Those real characters - from a sergeant-of-police great-grandfather, to numerous great aunts and uncles - found their way into the novel. For some it’s a profession that’s been echoed in the book, or a mannerism, or a punishment my great-grandfather once dealt his son. Any tiny thing can spark an idea or can become a revelatory moment for a character.
The Sergeant’s letters that form an important part of the story, come from a very real part of my childhood. My grandmother kept, in the tall, dark china cabinet, letters from Cuba. The airmail envelopes, red, white and blue, were thin and transparent. The letters themselves were written on thin, onion-skin paper and the handwriting was always dramatic, and formal. They were letters from her nephews, brothers, sisters, etc. She even got me to write to one of my second cousins on occasion, but the mail was so slow, that our pen-pal relationship only lasted three of four letters, and nearly a decade in time. We lost contact when she married as a teenager, to a policeman who did not approve of letters to those who chose exile. I was always intrigued by the messages in the letters, and as a child, didn’t really understand what some of it meant. I didn’t know that a request for a new pair of eyeglasses, was really, a request for much more--for money, or a way out, or a desire to have my grandmother visit (she never has and won’t). The concept of family secrets has always intrigued me, particularly when they are put in writing.