Transcript:
Hello Friend. Happy September!
As you know, if you keep close, I’ve been sitting on some very big news. Something that will forever change the course of my journey, regardless of its outcome. So, let me start from the very beginning.
Let me take you back to an entry from a year and a half ago. It reads…
[Long Pause]
My mom passed away on February 10th, 2023, at exactly 6:47 P.M. This day would be forever marked as A.M. – Life after my mom.
In the weeks and months that followed, precisely a year A.M., on an ordinary, mundane day, just like THAT dreadful one, I found myself in my kitchen, cooking, when all of a sudden…
I gasped. I couldn’t breathe again. For something that seemed to come out of nowhere, it knocked the air right out of me.
“I’ll never taste her food again,” I said quietly to myself.
That’s how this cookbook was born. Out of real life, in the midst of grief, in the middle of my healing.
And yet, even with something born so deeply out of my own story and culture, I was terrified.
For the last year and a half, roughly 548 days and counting, I’ve been living inside that doubt. After writing my book proposal and sending my pitch out into the world, I turned to the next step: submitting to literary agents. The wonderful people whose role is to champion your story and place it before publishers. During this time, I submitted to five in total, each one followed by an excruciating wait of eight to ten weeks for a response or sometimes, no response at all. In the end, there were six no’s, with one agent even passing on me twice. Every rejection felt heavier than the last, and at times, it stopped feeling like they were rejecting the project and started to feel like they were rejecting me. Was I worthy of telling this story? Was I the right person to carry it forward?
There were days I wanted to give up. Days, the weight of another “not this time” felt too heavy to bear. But something in me wouldn’t let me. Because this book isn’t just about me. It was born out of the loss of my mother, yes, but also out of the grief I see Puerto Rico carrying. The quiet, slow loss of my culture, our recipes, our stories. Somewhere in the midst of my own loss, the dream became bigger than me.
And then, after what felt like an eternity, after wondering if it would ever come at all, the yes I had been waiting for has arrived!!!
The yes I dreamt about. The yes I prayed for. The yes that made every “not this time” worth it.
The kind of yes that shifts the ground beneath you, that makes you cry the moment you read it, that reminds you why you kept going even when it felt impossible.
This wasn’t just a phone call with my now agent (ahh, pinch me!). It was proof that the dream I’ve been holding so tightly is real. That this story…my story, my mother’s story, Puerto Rico’s story is not only worthy, but necessary.
This was someone saying to me: I believe in you. I believe in this book. I believe you are the one meant to tell it. And the ultimate…I see you.
I can’t explain the rush of emotions. Tears, relief, gratitude, disbelief. It feels like the world cracked open in the most beautiful way. To feel seen in that way, after so many closed doors, is indescribable. It is hope made tangible. It is proof that persistence, even in the hardest seasons, matters.
The road ahead is long. Publishers to pitch. Recipes to test. Stories to capture. Visuals to dream into being. But for the last week, and as I share this now, I am pausing. I am letting myself feel the magnitude of this, yes. Because it is more than a milestone; it is a promise that this story has a place in the world.
To Wendy Sherman, thank you for taking a chance on me and officially signing on as my literary agent. To Richelle Fredson, thank you for being my book proposal coach and for championing me every step of the way. And to the publisher still ahead, know that my gratitude is waiting for you, and thank you in advance for believing in this story as fiercely as I do.
And last but not least, thank each of you for walking this road with me, for holding this dream as tenderly as I have, and for believing in me when the journey felt endless. For every encouraging message you sent, for riding the highs and the lows right alongside me. For comforting me when I shed my tears.
It might be a year and a half later, but this is just the beginning, and together, we will carry this forward. Here’s to officially closing this book deal with a fantastic, intentional, aligned publisher alongside my amazing agent, book proposal coach, and all of you!
Until next month (or sooner if this happens before then), bye.