At the age of 14, my maternal grandmother told me that when I was born, I was so dark compared to my brother—who was a blonde baby—that my Tia, dad’s sister, started a rumor that my mother had an affair with my father’s Ecuadorian friend, Eddy. My grandmother ended this snapshot by saying, “And then I was so relieved when you got freckles and strands of red hair like your dad, because it proved you were his daughter.” Last year, my cousins’ father passed away. While going thr

I sat down this morning to edit my book. My goal is to have it published by the end of the year—and today is October 4th. The truth?...

When I was 13, I woke up one morning with a crystal-clear vision: I was born to be a writer. Books were my constant companions, and I...