Behind the Scenes: Writing Your English Is Great, But…

I didn’t set out to write a book.

I set out to make sense of things — grief, identity, the sharp edges of memory — and ended up with a collection of stories that felt like they’d been waiting their whole life to be told.

Each chapter started as a moment I couldn’t shake.

The first time someone complimented my English like it was a magic trick.

The sound of my grandmother’s voice when she said “te me vas con cuidado, mijo.”

The loneliness of a newsroom where no one looked like me — and the joy of finding one who did.

Writing this book was personal.

Not in a “this is my trauma” kind of way.

But in a “this is my truth, even if it doesn’t always fit the mold.”

Some chapters came fast, like they were sitting on the tip of my tongue.

Others… I wrestled with.

I’d write five pages, delete four.

Spend a whole afternoon chasing the right way to say something simple.

Not just because I’m a perfectionist — but because I wanted every word to feel earned.

The hardest part?

Deciding what to leave out.

Because the stories we don’t tell… still shape us.

The most surprising part?

Hearing from readers who saw themselves in my words — even when their story was nothing like mine.

That’s the magic of writing:

You think you’re alone in what you lived… until someone reads it and says, “Me too.”

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📘 Your English Is Great, But… is available now on Amazon.

It’s more than a book.

It’s a journey — of language, memory, and finding your voice in a world that tries to quiet it.

👉 amzn.to/3ZgTrwV