‘Contradictory yet complementary archetypes. Masks that dehumanize women, acting like blank canvases on which to project the desires, fears and anxieties of a society that professes to be an enclave of tropical sensualism but deep down is profoundly conservative, classist and misogynist.’

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(Ad-PR product - @fitzcarraldoeditions) Expect more 🤯 prose like that in the pages of the latest slim but powerful book translated into English from the brilliantly dark mind of Fernanda Melchor. Melchor is firmly rooted in my autoread authors now - hell, she was even when I’d only read Hurricane Season. All of her work is darkly hypnotic, propulsive, grabbing you by the ears and forcing you to confront the darkest corners of humanity.

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This Is Not Miami is Melchor’s contribution to the distinctly Latinx genre of cronicás, which I’ve only dabbled in moderately with Selva Almada’s Dead Girls (also amazing btw). These twelve stories/essays/narrative nonfiction pieces all stem from real events that took place in Melchor’s hometown of Veracruz in Mexico. Similar themes as in Hurricane Season & Paradais pop up, packing perhaps more of a punch because they’re rooted in reality. Faves included Queen, Slave, Woman, The House on El Estero and Veracruz with a Zed for Zeta.