About the Book

My wife died when my daughter was nine months old. She won’t remember her voice, her obsession with pretty baby outfits, or the way she sang made-up lyrics every morning.

These letters from the book cover the first two years after my wife died. The panic attacks I had while Luciana played with blocks. The fifty pounds I lost because eating felt like betrayal. The nights I faked being human so Luciana wouldn’t grow up with a ghost for a father.

Survival doesn’t have to look like healing. Sometimes, it just looks like getting through Tuesday.

About the Author

I wish I never had to write a book at all. I wouldn’t be an author if my wife was alive.

I live in Northern Virginia with my daughter Luciana. My wife Vanessa was Bolivian, opinionated about Luciana’s outfits, and significantly funnier than me.

I started writing these letters because I was terrified of forgetting. I kept writing them because it turned out I had things to say that didn’t fit anywhere else.

I have a nondescript job doing relatively interesting things no one would care about. I’m learning Spanish, poorly but persistently, so Luciana can grow up connected to her mother’s culture. I’m hoping to get my dogs back from Luciana’s abuelos when she’s old enough to help clean up their poop.

Interviews

Want to see something really surreal? I was on a podcast. A grown up one. Yes, it’s about the book. I’m really not that interesting other than having a dead wife and a child.

IndieReader also interviewed me. Fifteen questions.

Contact Information

You can reach me at dearluciana2023@gmail.com. My Instagram is @dearluciana_besitos. I don’t have a professional account. Be nice.