Letters From Miami 
A monthly, handmade fanzine. 
An attempt at making Miami less fancy and more fanzine.

It’s been five months since my mom died, and a few days more. I am writing a book about her death called Two Months to Live . I wrote the first part as things were happening while she was sick in Colombia. It was a way to keep myself grounded and to release my feelings after spending all day holding it together in front of her. In the days immediately before her death, and the days after, I was too busy to write. Back in Miami, it took me a long time to gather the courage to

It was a journey to publish in my native language, Spanish. I went back and forth with the book for almost seven years and finally managed to publish it in 2024. It’s called La Última Margaret Keane and it’s available on Amazon, Apple Books, and Barnes & Noble. I am very proud of its existence. However, once it was published, some sort of postpartum depression came over me, and what had once been the joy of writing became the shame of not selling as many copies as I had imag

I go to the gym three times a week before work—usually Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays: upper body, core, and lower body, respectively. Today was leg day. Lower body. The most important day, since those are the biggest muscles in our bodies. Also the one I care about the most, because I don’t want my butt to reveal my age. I woke up at 6:50, changed my pajamas for a black onesie and sneakers, brushed my teeth, tied my hair, and left the apartment at 7 a.m. to walk to the gym

One of the most beautiful things that happened to me in Alaska was to believe in magic again. We believe in magic when we are children...