The Iglú publishing house launches with a fierce, human collection
Not bad, terrible. It feels tragic that death so often steps into life before we have finished reading fourteen stories that fill this volume. The death described here is not only final; it is a lens that reveals every shade of mortality: comforting, hurting, surprising, sometimes liberating.
The new publication presents by Maite Cabrerizo, a voice well known to readers of social reportage and literary journalism. The author will host a book signing at the Valencian publishing group’s stand during the Madrid Book Fair on Sunday, June 12. This label has become the home for Cabrerizos work, which once again speaks with unvarnished clarity about a topic many avoid—death. We all know how endings arrive, Cabrerizo suggests, but as a close friend noted, the final shirt has no pockets. Time, in its relentless rush, is what we must catch.
Two minutes can pivot a life. The novella follows a young woman who discovers adulthood through the gaze of a neighbor. In a modest neighborhood, a fragile family, and quick cash, fate twists in the blink of an eye. The protagonist tastes love and the ache of truth that wounds and torments, yet she discovers what it means to belong.
Love becomes something unsaid, a love that endures through loss in the most unpredictable endings. The book also blends photojournalism, sharp commentary on gender violence, and a stark meditation on the end of life and the slow pull of memory on Alzheimers disease, revealing a work steeped in humanity. It is a tribute to people of integrity, to ordinary folks who hold fast to their values. A tale of absence and presence, of resilience and the deep pull of friendship and affection.
“Friendship endures through good times and bad. We reflected on today’s events and planned tomorrow, but one day there was no argument, no tomorrow. A sudden departure left a void that is hard to fill, and this book bears witness to that space. A mysterious, masked figure becomes a symbol of hope after reading it,” one reader notes.
Alongside the prose, Iglú publishing house appears with seven titles rooted in Alicante, where fiction and reality cohabit. Cabrerizo emphasizes a tribute to people who carry themselves with decency, to the regularly overlooked souls who shape daily life. One entry speaks of home economics and the absence that marks a 945‑address, recounting a personal struggle learned through living. The dedication to Alfon Lamartine reflects a belief that death often conceals two hearts within the same memory.
What connects the heroes and the everyday protagonists is the immense effort to resist a foe that sometimes wins: death. After the signing, Cabrerizo plans a reading and conversation. The author believes the event will leave audiences moved and perhaps changed, guided by the belief that human understanding deepens through storytelling. A moment at Tribueño Theater in Madrid, scheduled for June 21, will unfold as a scene that reveals the best of people when faced with profound questions about life and loss.
About the author
When asked what a child grows up to be, Maite Cabrerizo, born in Vitoria in 1967, offered two answers: a summer cleaner in a cold winter town, or a journalist and writer. Family life showed the pull toward journalism, and that path became the clear choice in adulthood. The career has spanned social reporting and economic press, yielding works that mix reportage with intimate storytelling. Titles include Thirties and Moratalaz’s Progress, produced with neighbors and partners in publishing. A co‑written work on the right to decent housing, a children’s novel, and a collection of poems titled Poesia Eres Tú contribute to a body of writing that confronts unemployment and the dignity of work through lyrical prose.
Her latest publication, your death makes me sad, sits among her penultimate works and embodies a refrain that readers will recognize: the penultimate kiss, the penultimate drink, the penultimate book. This is the kind of testimony that lingers long after the last page is turned.