Writing diverse Latin American characters

March 9, 2023 | General

A couple of years ago, when I was still writing my debut novel Seeking Stars, I spent some time in a subreddit that discussed feminism in romance novels. A post at the time focused on character diversity in books, and Latine culture was mentioned. I remember reading the comments with a lot of interest, because it was immediately clear to me that the folk there had an idea of Latine culture different from mine. They had experience with Latine people to different degrees but, overall, it seemed to me that they viewed Latine culture as that of Latines living in the US, and mostly consisting of Mexican or Caribbean culture. I understand why they thought that way. That’s what they were exposed to. But being Latine is so much more than that, and it should be reflected when writing diverse Latin American characters.

Being mirrored on the screen and on books helps us feel seen. We get to understand ourselves better when others reflect us back. That’s the power of representation. When someone asked me if I had ever seen myself represented as a Latina in a book, I said no. And to date, I haven’t. Except for the books I’ve written.

Food as a point of entry

Recently, a video of Pedro Pascal enjoying Chilean food did the rounds, and it made me so happy! The way he knew what everything was by sight, brought him memories, and he even said the names right. Just like when I saw this fanart by @ShukeiArt on Twitter, where Grogu is eating marraqueta and the Mandalorian Din Djarin (Pedro) teaches him about palta (avocado):

Such small things, but they filled me with joy. As an immigrant, I don’t get to eat Chilean food very often. Seeing food that reminds me of home is one point of entry for feeling represented. Food in general is important in Latin American culture, and not only because we get together to eat. One of my favourite things back home was doing sobremesa: chatting and relaxing after a meal for hours.

And that’s also one of the ways in which I brought representation into my books when writing Latin American characters. Ana, the protagonist of Seeking Stars, is a first-generation Ecuadorian-American. She eats seco de pollo her mom makes for lunch, and cooks encocado de camarón in Love in Times of Contempt. Ana’s best friend, Ely, is Colombian. She talks about buñuelos, aguardiente, and ropa vieja. But there are other details as well besides food.

Latin American characters in books

There’s more than food to being Latine, of course. Latin America is a large geopolitical area, from Mexico to Argentina including the Caribbean. It is a complex concept with no definitive edges, and not one definition. What would it be like if we tried to define what we know of Europeans based on what we know of England, France, and Germany?

In my experience, when people think of Latin America, they expect all of it to be hot like the Mexico coast and full of resorts, and for everyone to like spicy food and listen to salsa and reguetón. But, like with any other ethnicity, there is granularity the closer we get. I have similarities with Mexicans, just like we have things setting us apart. I can be different from other Chileans, and I can have some more similarities with a Peruvian or Argentinian than with someone from the Dominican Republic.

Those are the kind of details I missed when reading books with Latine characters. As someone born and raised in Latin America, I have a specific perspective when writing Latin American characters into books. I have a different lived experience, which includes the immigrant point of view. It was from this lens that I wrote this scene in Seeking Stars:

“The thing is,” Ana said, in the middle of a story, “I’m not fluent in Spanish. I understand it, but I can’t speak it. So the first time Ely’s parents offered me some tintico, I was extremely confused. Did I get it right? But I was too young for wine… and I couldn’t even ask! They wanted me to practice Spanish. Turns out that while tinto is a word for red wine in a lot of Latin American countries, it means black coffee in Colombia.”

“So there you are, right after lunch with your parents and Ely’s family…”

“And her parents are offering me red wine. Or so I thought.”

And though no one knows but me (and now you), that paragraph speaks volumes about my life and what I know as a Latina and an immigrant. In just a few sentences, I visited old memories and mixed it with my life today. I have people in my family who are Colombian, and with whom I spent a significant portion of my life. I myself lived the tintico: wine or coffee? joke. Because making fun of someone has been a way of interacting in my Latine family, which is a commonality in almost all Latine people I know. It also talks about the immigrant experience, where folk from different backgrounds come together to create a found family.

Similar, but not the same

I’ve had the privilege to spend a significant amount of time with Latine folk from several countries, and I try to honor all of us in my stories. It’s food, and it’s what connects us, like machismo, complex family dynamics, a shared colonial history, and romance languages. And it’s also about the little differences among us.

To anyone interacting with Latin American characters in my stories, or with other Latine stories, I’d like you to come to this space with curiosity. I’d like you to understand that Latinidad isn’t a monolith. That it’s an ethnicity with a lot of variability, and where all races are represented. Where race, colorism, and xenophobia all get mixed up, among us and specially when seen from outside. How, even though being Latine isn’t a race, we’re racialized in the Global North, and treated as not-really-white even if we’re light skinned. How the Caribbean culture is different than those of us at the end of the continent. That once you go south enough, you approach the South Pole, and it’s actually quite cold.

Just like everyone else, and specially those of us with historically excluded intersections, us Latine folk are still figuring it out ourselves. Are you open to walk with us as we learn about what it means to be Latine? See us in all our diversity and shared history? In our ever-evolving culture?

I hope so, because I’d love to share this journey with you.