An author and editor based in New Haven, she participated in the fourth Hispano-American Festival of La Palma Writers, held from September 26 to October 1 in Los Llanos de Aridane. In this interview she reflects on her literary motivations, women’s rights, and her return to La Palma.
Her novel Leña menda received the Tusquets Novel Prize. What did this recognition mean for a study that tackles topics that society often silences, such as abortion or pregnancy loss?
The prize brought immense happiness. The novel emerged from deep pain, a painful process, and the confession shared by a friend who allowed its story to be written. It felt like giving the pain its due and bringing light to a taboo. Personally, the acknowledgment is a tremendous compliment that brings peace of mind when facing a blank page. Leña Small blends real events with reflections on the body and the names we give things. It is surprising that a book rooted in such tragedy could win a prestigious prize.
Exactly, you wonder whether literature helps name, reveal, and spark conversation about these experiences, especially when women are the authors?
Language has performative power, capable of comforting and condemning, of making things visible and disguising them. Literature can also help imagine other worlds and, perhaps, change the world we live in.
To what extent has reading contemporary writers or peers from your generation influenced you?
Reading writers of her generation gave her validation and empowerment to write. Role models matter. Seeing more women authors publish, such as Sabina Urraca or Aixa de la Cruz, suggested a generational shift away from a male-centric canon. With a background in philology and prior editing experience, she finally felt ready to publish alongside peers she admired. When she reached professional maturity and observed her contemporaries succeeding, encouragement followed.
In another interview about the novel’s motivations, she cited César Vallejo’s Black Evangelists: there are blows in life, very strong. What drove the project forward?
Conquering or reinterpreting privacy meant presenting domestic life and the body. Readers often search for themselves in other books, other lives, yet do not always find themselves in the canon. Writing becomes a revelation, exposing silenced worlds. The depiction of hard realities can be destructive yet transformative. As the writing progressed, more voices emerged, sharing experiences, making it possible to name what had remained unnamed, and demonstrating the cathartic power of literature for personal and communal healing through reading and writing.
The recent discourse around reproductive rights, including the Yes Means Yes law and proposed abortion reforms, raises concerns about resistance to change in the 21st century.
This writer sees literature as an instrument of change, with a strong interest in ecology and feminism. The looming threat of climate change is treated as a pervasive crime that no one can stop in time, regardless of political slogans. There is worry about the erosion of women’s rights, particularly abortion access. Recent laws in places like Texas are a reminder of ongoing battles. The writer, a mother of a four-year-old, fears the planet left for future generations.
Despite these advances, the burden of care still falls heavily on women. Spain faces real reconciliation challenges, with mothers bearing much of the responsibility of raising children and managing households. A flexible work model that combines remote and in-person arrangements could help, while overly rigid expectations and old-school workplace practices waste time and limit progress. Freedom of movement and opportunity would benefit society as a whole.
How would one describe the balance between motherhood and professional aspirations?
Citing Ursula K. Le Guin, the author notes that childcare can drain creative energy. It is harder for women to carve out time for creation while bearing caregiving duties. High expectations create a trap: attempting to be perfect in every role is simply not feasible. Data show fewer women maintaining publishing output, a gap linked to caregiving burdens.
Even though Leña Small drew from personal fears rather than lived experience, writing served as catharsis. The author describes pregnancy as a period marked by fear, diabetes, and fatigue, not the blissful ideal sometimes portrayed. Writing the novel helped process those feelings and provided emotional release.
The festival on La Palma will bring together many writers from the archipelago. What feelings accompany the idea of traveling to a region recently affected by volcanic eruptions?
The author recalls childhood visits to La Palma with fond memories. When the volcano erupted, memories of that island resurfaced, intensifying the relevance of the region’s current reality and underscoring the importance of attention to its recovery.
What contemporary Canarian literature has influenced the author since then?
Recently, Andrea Abreu’s work Panza de burro left a strong impression for its bold language and fresh approach. The life of an editor can be paradoxical: spending days reading manuscripts for translation, yet not always finding time to read for pleasure. The author admits to wanting to read more Canarian literature as well as works by peers from the islands.
How does editing influence writing and vice versa?
Editing is cherished because it sharpens text with careful revisions. The act of deleting and polishing reveals how much love for literature remains. The writer views editing and composing as two sides of the same coin, both rooted in a passion for books.
What projects are underway for both writing and editing?
As an editor, three notable books are slated for release. The first is Josephine Johnson’s November Now, a landmark novel by the 1935 Pulitzer winner at age 24, whose work should be part of literary history but was excluded by the Western canon. The second is a powerful short novel titled Podio by a Malaga-based writer, focusing on competitive sports. The third explores the return, exile, and family of Iranian writer Parinoush Saniee, best known for The Book of My Destiny. In her own writing, she centers on a girl rebuilding her family history, with a grandmother who has Alzheimer’s masking shared memories. It marks the summer of the end of childhood, epilepsy of memories, and the dawning realization of nostalgia, which signals a shift in the girl’s sense of self.
What about a future project outside the short term that excites her?
There is a wish to write for younger readers, a book that children in families might actually read. Some of the writer’s previous manuscripts have been restricted by guardians, so a children’s or young adult work seems timely. There is also a desire to share a nighttime reading with a daughter, offering a story to listen to before sleep.