Questions:

1) What do you know about telenovelas or soap operas? Have you ever watched one? What common traits and themes of this style of show do you see reflected in the plot of Tell It to Me Singing?

2) After finding out she’s pregnant with Robert’s baby, Mónica starts to evaluate her feelings for Robert. She wonders if there’s a difference between loving someone and being in love with them. Do you think there’s a difference? Explain your thinking.

3) Mónica’s mother is about to head into major surgery and suddenly confesses that she has been lying about her daughter’s parentage for her entire life. Has a family member ever dropped life-altering information like this on you? How did you process the information? What emotions came with the situation?

4) Describe the complex feelings Mirta must have had while carrying out her affair with Juan, finding out she was pregnant with his baby while married to Rolando, and choosing to keep Mónica’s parentage a secret for twenty-nine years. Try to get into her head and describe what you think her thought process was when making each of those decisions.

5) Why might Mirta be okay with never telling Juan he had a child, even if it brought her extreme guilt? What did it cost her to obey Rolando’s wishes? What did she gain by keeping the secret?

6) Mirta laments that Rolando has never said he has forgiven her for her affair, only that he has accepted it. She states that “acceptance and forgiveness are not the same thing . . . but sometimes they are close enough” (90). What does she mean by this? Do you agree with her statement?

7) How do instances like Mirta’s dropping Mónica underwater as an infant, and the guilt that consumes her after, and the incident at the park speak to the experience of mental health during the postpartum period? How is this exacerbated for Mirta, given her situation when Mónica is a newborn?

8) Why do you think it’s easier for Mónica to go straight to Manny after finding out the whole story of her parentage from Mirta while Robert is out of town? What about the secret she’s just learned might have caused her to kiss Manny?

9) Learning that Juan is still alive, Mirta becomes determined to find him and tell him that he has a daughter. This upsets Mónica, who angrily tells her mom that it’s her life, too, and she deserves to be part of these decisions, though this might be a “foreign concept” (262) to her mother. Can you think of a time when you felt like Mónica, when a family member or someone close to you wanted to make a big decision for you? Can you think of a time when you felt like Mirta, when you just wanted to do what you thought was right after feeling like you’d made a mistake?

10) Mirta flees by herself to Costa Rica in the hope of tracking down Juan, only to be met with serious danger. Do you think she would have made such a bold decision had she not been recovering both physically and mentally from major surgery? Would she have made the same decision if Juan was still a secret to Mónica? Why or why not?

11) Mónica tells Robert that her decision to end things with him has nothing to do with Manny, but might it have something to do with Mirta? Could knowing what her mother went through with her own true love have prompted her in some way to choose a different path? What would you have done if you were in Mónica’s position, and would it be an easy decision?

12) After all is said and done, how is it that Mónica is able to forgive Mirta for everything that has happened? How have you been able to forgive a close family member for things they may have done in the past or even in the present? Where does that forgiveness come from?

13) What parallels can you draw between the two major love triangles? In what way do Mónica, Manny, and Robert resemble Mirta, Juan, and Rolando?

14) How do you think the story was enhanced by the chapters containing Mirta’s thoughts and backstory? How would your understanding of the story have been different if it was told only from Mónica’s perspective?

Activities:

1) Have a telenovela movie night! Research telenovelas and pick one that’s interesting and accessible to you. Make some snacks, sit back, and enjoy the show! To enhance this activity, discuss what you watched afterward, and compare this to the story Mónica’s mother confesses to her after her surgery.

2) Research Cuba in the latter part of the twentieth century and learn about counterrevolutionaries like Juan and Mirta. Share your findings and interesting facts with the group to provide context to Juan and Mirta’s tumultuous relationship.

3) Sometimes it’s hard to think about our older relatives, like parents, having their own lives before we came along. Reflect privately on what you know about your parents or loved ones, and what you might like to know. Think of questions, and if you feel like it, ask them the next time you see them. Share any interesting facts or anecdotes that you find with the group if you feel comfortable doing so.

Author Q/A:

What inspired you to write Tell It to Me Singing?

Tell It to Me Singing actually started as a short story in which Mónica, a young Cuban American woman in Miami, discovers she’s pregnant and begins questioning everything about her life. I finished the story and published it, but then couldn’t stop thinking about her, or about her mother, Mirta. So I kept writing, and eventually I landed on the secret Mirta confesses to Mónica: “Your father is Juan.”

The idea came from my own life: when I was in my early twenties, my mother confessed to me that before she met my father, she had been married to another man. I then thought, What if Mónica’s mom reveals something similar, but more devastating?

Can you share more about the significance of the title and how it relates to the story?

The title is the English translation of the phrase “Dímelo cantando,” which is a funny way that older Cuban people sometimes answer the telephone. It’s kind of like the Cuban version of “Hey, what’s up?” In other words, it’s an invitation to deliver news or gossip or whatever’s on the caller’s mind. The phrase serves as a connection point between the main characters—it’s an old joke between Mónica and Manny, and Mirta notes that Teresita answers the phone this way, which makes her think of her mother, whom she left back in Cuba. More than that, though, the title is a representation of one of the main themes in the novel: storytelling. This book is about the stories we’ve been told that may or may not be true, the stories we try to persuade ourselves are true, and the rebuilding, for Mónica, of her own story. It’s a phrase that has, embedded in it, the request for a story. Mónica makes this request—very clearly, in fact—in the last line of Part I: “Okay, Mom,” she says. “Start from the beginning, please, and tell me everything” (179).

The novel intricately weaves together different timelines and locations, from Miami to Cuba to Costa Rica. What research or personal experience did you draw on to bring these settings to life?

Bringing Miami to life was easy—I grew up there, so I know it well! I went to birthday parties in Tropical Park, where Caro has her daughter’s Brave-themed birthday party. I’ve driven by the middle school where Mirta’s English class was located and the park where she and Juan hid when they were supposed to be in class countless times. And I’ve eaten at every restaurant in the book, shopped at Publix every Saturday morning of my childhood, and stopped at La Vaquita for milk and other necessary items probably once a week. As for Cuba, there’s a personal connection there, too—not just because half of my family is from Cuba but because Holguín, the town where Mirta, Rolando, and Juan are from, is my father’s hometown. I’ve spoken to him about it many times, and since I haven’t yet been to Cuba, I also consulted the internet for help with the visual details. I did the same for Costa Rica, drawing upon the hours of internet research I did about everything from the San José airport, where Mónica and Manny spend hours searching for Mirta, to the remote area of Costa Rica where Frankie’s house is located. I’ve read many articles about what the land looks like and spent whole afternoons looking at pictures and videos, trying to get the details of the roads, the trees, and the sounds of the jungle just beyond the farmland correct.

The revelation of Mónica's true paternity is a pivotal moment in the book. How did you approach writing about such deep family secrets and their impact?

First and foremost, I tried to think about what it would feel like if the same thing happened to me. I knew how strange it felt to find out, in my twenties, that my mother had been married to another man prior to meeting my father, and I tried to imagine how it would feel if she had told me that man was my real father. I also did a lot of research on families who’ve dealt with revelations like this. Because of genetic-testing companies like 23 and Me and Ancestry, there are now many people who discover secrets of the sort Mónica does, which can, of course, be quite painful for the whole family. Additionally, I’ve always loved Dani Shapiro’s gorgeous memoir Inheritance, about discovering that the man who raised her was not her biological father. That book helped me understand the darkness and the feelings of isolation—even grief—a person might experience when dealing with this kind of issue.

Mirta’s illness and its effects on the family dynamic are captured with such compassion and sensitivity. What was the process and inspiration for incorporating this aspect of the story?

As many fiction writers do, I “borrowed” certain elements of the plot from real life. Mirta’s aortic aneurysm surgery and subsequent difficult recovery was one of them. About ten years ago, my best friend’s mother had to have emergency heart surgery, which did not go well, and for the next three weeks, everyone in the family was terrified they were going to lose her. I remembered speaking to my friend during that time—how uncertain and full of fear he sounded—and knew that this was exactly what Mónica would be going through. And then, a few years later, my own father had major heart surgery, which went well, thank goodness; however, life afterward was slow and difficult, both physically and emotionally, and we all knew that getting back to “normal” was not going to happen anytime soon. I borrowed that difficulty and mapped it onto the Campos, then wove in Mirta’s delusions and everyone’s anxiety about them. Since Mirta is the center—the nucleus, as Mónica says—of their family, I knew that if she was hurt or in danger, all of them would feel threatened and unmoored, so I tried to show those feelings anywhere I could.

Your portrayal of Cuban American culture adds rich layers to the narrative. How did your own background or research inform specific aspects of the story?

Because I’m the daughter of a Cuban exile and grew up in Miami—land of the Cuban sandwich and the cafecito—I didn’t really need to research Cuban home or family life. Miami is where my roots are, and though my family of origin didn’t look like exactly like Mónica’s (my mother is Anglo and grew up in Kentucky), many of my friends’ families did, so I know the two-Cuban-parents dynamic very well. I also lived the extended-Cuban-family dynamic all through my childhood, with my parents constantly hosting family and friends from Cuba. My mother became an honorary Cuban and was known not just for her delicious arroz con pollo but also for her superb salsa dancing abilities, which she displayed at all family gatherings.

What I did do a bit (tons!) of research on were the anti-Castro movements that took place both on and off the island in places like Miami, New York, and New Jersey. The first step in that research was actually to call my father, who, as a teenager, had participated in underground anti-Castro activities on the island, which planted the seed for Juan’s character.

Your novel doesn't shy away from exploring the complexities of love, loyalty, and family ties. Was there a particular message or conversation you wanted to spark among readers?

Every person in the novel either hurts someone or is hurt by someone at least a little bit. The fact that we can make poor choices while also being good, loving people is one of the central ideas I wanted to get across. And, of course, what’s at the heart of it all is the idea of forgiveness and empathy—or maybe empathy and then forgiveness. We have to be able to see the other person’s point of view first before we can say, “I forgive you.” This idea is threaded through every relationship Mónica has—with her mother, her father, Robert, Manny, even her brother. But it’s also threaded through some of the global themes of the novel. Juan’s counterrevolutionary activities—both those he carried out in Cuba and those he carried out in Miami—are controversial, to say the least. Mónica has to wrestle with that and hold her views and perspectives while also attempting to see things as her mother and the other exiles and refugees from the island see them. It’s all about the complexity and the gray areas that make us the multilayered human beings that we are.

The book concludes on a hopeful yet open note. What do you envision for the characters beyond the last page?

I envision Mónica and Manny giving it another try, and Mónica having a wonderful baby boy with green eyes like Robert’s. I know Mónica and Robert will co-parent him, though I think it might take some time for Robert to heal and feel comfortable being back in the mix with the Campos. But soon he’ll be right there, at the baby’s first birthday, at his pre-K graduation, and at every one of his baseball games or drama performances or whatever he ends up being interested in. I envision Mirta and Rolando finding a deeper connection now that they’ve each tapped into what’s really important to them and have cleared out all the secrets. And, I confess, I do imagine Mónica calling Juan to say hello and probably have a cafecito together one day. I think she’s too curious about him and too invested in understanding herself and her story to not reach out.

Finally, what has been the most rewarding part of bringing Tell It to Me Singing to life, and what do you hope readers ultimately take away from the book?

The most rewarding part of bringing Tell It to Me Singing to life has been witnessing the transformation all these characters have undergone—everyone from Mónica and Mirta to the other parent/child duo in the group, Rack and Suzie. Mirta started as “the overbearing Cuban mom who loves her daughter but drives her crazy” and with every draft grew more and more complex and layered. Rack was “the weird guy next door at the hotel” and now he’s arguably one of the most important members of Team Mónica. As for what I hope readers ultimately take away from the book, it’s two things: joy and an understanding that messy doesn’t mean bad—that people are complicated, and that’s okay. Sometimes we make mistakes and bad decisions, but that doesn’t mean we’re unworthy of the chance to make better decisions and, along the way, bring joy to ourselves and those around us as we grow.

After such an incredible debut, what's next?

Hopefully another novel, possibly a kind of prequel that tells Juan’s story—in particular, the story of his first few years in Miami, when he got involved with those “bad men,” as Mirta calls them, and then what really happened in Costa Rica in the 1980s when he was hiding from them. I’m also interested in exploring the grief of losing friends in some way. Unfortunately, I’ve lost two best friends over the course of my life—one to suicide, the other to cancer—and whenever something happens that I know one of them would find particularly great or hilarious or interesting, I find myself thinking (and sometimes saying out loud to my husband), I can’t believe she’s dead for this. And that kind of irreverence toward death and loss is something I think we need more of, so I’d like to write about it. So . . . maybe a funny grief novel? Why not?