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On Weirdness and Play: Or an Ode to the Creative Haven That Was My Uncle’s House
I stared up at my second grade teacher with a probably drifting eye, probably long tangled brown hair, maybe even wearing the XXL shirt with the giant printed cow on the front I loved so much around this time. And the way she responded to me has never left my brain in thirty years.
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In Which I Explain to My Goddaughter (and Myself) What It Means to Have (and Be) a Godmother
When close friends asked my partner and I to be godparents to their daughter, the four of us got to decide what the relationship would mean to us.
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A Eulogy for My Grandpa
This is a version of the eulogy I wrote for my mom's dad this past year. I read this to my relatives during his graveside service. It includes excerpts from journals he wrote during the LDS mission he served in 1951, which is where he met my grandma. I didn't read this exact version at his graveside though. The eulogy I actually read was edited to remove superfluous details about my personal life and experiences. Those I'll share here, on my personal blog.
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Finding the Right Ending for The Music of Pedro (or Why it Took Five Months and a Quarantine to Finish This Blog Post)
From beginning to end, The Music of Pedro was a family endeavor and I wanted everything about the launch fiesta to emphasize communion and community, passion and creation—all things I believe define “family” and ought to direct us as we build and protect our individual, local, and global families.
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The People Behind the Characters of The Music of Pedro
Read about the real people who inspired characters in the book.
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Ode to My Graphic Designer: A Story of Violent Affection
My best friend is a Berrett cousin I’ve patiently corrupted. We were both in junior high when we discovered our mutual love of writing and spent the weekends co-writing stories that featured our wish-fulfilling counterparts, one blond and blue-eyed like my cousin and the other a brown-skinned brunette. This is the story of how I lured her to the Cuevas ways.
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Wistful August Wrap-Up
I met my benchmarks a few days ahead of schedule and I have a moment to forget the weeks and months ahead until launch. Instead I look backward. I consider what I’ve personally put into this book and why, what it communicates to me and what I hope it will communicate to others, and also how much I love my dad.
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Sleuths of 642 South: Ode to Hyperbole and a Half
I was an enthusiastic fan of Encyclopedia Brown, so the plan was to journey outward, beyond the walls of our house, even beyond the cul-de-sac, and to gather clues. We had a magnifying glass and a notepad for just that purpose. The only thing we were missing was an actual mystery to solve.
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A New Ending to My Marriage: Dreaming Up a Better Story
There’s a reason I dreamt a better story five years later: "I was a shit wife" and "We were better as friends" or "I married too young" are reasons and excuses all in one, and less fun than invention.
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I Told My Dad I Could Never Love His Novel Like He Did (I Was Wrong)
I get it, Dad. It’s your baby, I said. He’d just finished the most current of several iterations of his novel and now he was trying to persuade me to edit it.
