I’m sitting in the Books & Books Cafe after finishing a key lime pie, and things feel really, really good. A little less than two years ago, I published a silly little book titled The Miami Creation Myth.
It’s packed with 11 languages and dialects representing Miami’s myriad communities. I don’t speak 11 languages and dialects much less belong to all my hometown’s myriad communities, so I collaborated with wonderful local partners who did. Getting that right, making sure I depicted my diverse characters authentically, explains much of why it took me so long to write the book.
When I did finally publish, I set the somewhat arbitrary goal of selling 1,000 hardcovers. For context, the average self-published book sells 250 copies over its lifetime. Nevertheless, just to make things easier for myself, I didn’t write my book with a national market in mind. Its story was designed, cover to cover, to make Miamians feel seen. I wanted my readers to laugh as they explored a holistic, perhaps (dare I say?) poignant story about our city, a place often reduced to flat stereotypes by outsiders. I truly didn’t care if no one else read it.
To whit, my recipe for literary success was the following: 1. Write a hyper-specific book with a miniscule word count and an unconventional structure in almost a dozen languages. 2. Edit and publish that book with no help from literary professionals. 3. Only target a tiny geographic/ethnographic market. 4. Profit.
Small wonder no publisher or literary agent would touch it. But they didn’t count on my trump cards: I have a really stupid sense of humor, I understand Miami, and I am obsessively committed to reaching my goals. Also, I have memes.
So many memes! Seven years’ worth of memes! Thousands of them, along with more than 300 satirical short stories and essays. And I don’t have an editor or publicist, so I published whatever dumb ideas popped into my head with no filter!
It was joyful, difficult work. Very difficult work. I did all my own marketing, distribution, pitching, deliveries, social media, media relations, scheduling, and many, many interviews.
But it earned me an engaged audience of 37,000 across platforms I hoped would be willing to shell out $35 for a hardcover. To my surprise and eternal gratitude, many of them did.
The first year after publication was a whirlwind of panels, talks, and live readings (several dressed as a croqueta).
I went store to store convincing local managers to stock my book. Eventually, I collected an amazing set of retail partners including Dale Zine, Martha of Miami, Sweat Records, Barnes & Noble Miracle Mile, Barnes & Noble FIU, and Rohi’s Readery. And, wouldn’t you know it, I became Books & Books’ best-selling independently published author of all time!
Things were going great when something truly unexpected happened. The Miami Creation Myth won the International Latino Book Award for best fantasy novel.
I didn’t realize how much I wanted this prize until I got it. Beyond granting me an opportunity to meet hundreds of incredible Latino authors in a welcoming setting that celebrated Latinidad rather than (as in much of the literary world) tokenizing or ignoring it, the award validated my writing talent. The judges were not Miamians. They were Mexican Americans, Puerto Ricans, Central and South Americans from across the country. And they saw value in my explicitly Miami story. That validation meant the world because my work, though written for a Miami audience, was celebrated for exploring themes with universal appeal.
Quick aside—I am seriously disappointed my book hasn’t been banned in Florida yet. The second chapter has a whole-ass lesbian sex scene between the sun and moon. There’s an extensive section on privilege. And climate change! Queer and Black and Brown characters with agency everywhere! There are only two prominent non-Latino white characters in the entire book! And they’re both women! What the hell else do I have to do?? If someone has a direct line to Moms for Liberty, feel free to hit them up or throw my hardcover through their office window.
But I plan to fix that.
Having not learned my lesson the first time, I recently wrote a new novel. My protagonist, a young, ambitious climate journalist, recognizes the opportunity of a lifetime when a hill named “the Bulge” inexplicably rises 150 feet overnight in the middle of Miami, demolishing a working-class neighborhood. Governor Rhonda Santos (yes, you read that right) confiscates the residents’ property and hands it to a billionaire to build Florida’s only climate-proof citadel for the megarich. Hilarity ensues.
There are glow-in-the-dark alligators, male OnlyFans models, TED Talk erections, ayahuasca hallucinations, Brightline collisions, a petrified killer whale, and a Battle of the Bulge Part Two. If this doesn’t get me banned in Florida, nothing will.
Also, I’d prefer to not go through the entire self-publishing ordeal again, so if anyone knows a decent literary agent or publisher who might appreciate my sense of humor, please let me know. Querying sucks.
That said, publishing The Miami Creation Myth has been the creative achievement of my lifetime. I’ve written this a million times—it’s getting old, I know—but it really is a love letter to my city. Thank you for reading. Thank you for sharing. Thank you for your support.
Un abrazo,
Andrew
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