D. H. Figueredo

(Photo: Nicole Colella-Bagner)

While living in Spain as a teenager, I roamed the old streets of old cities. The houses were small and had small balconies, both built out of gray stones. My heels echoed throughout the ancient streets that formed impossible mazes where I would get lost. While lingering in those old neighborhoods, I saw musketeers dueling and dashing swashbucklers leaping from one balcony to another: they were as real to me as the stone houses and the cobble-stone alleys. That was the beginning of my dreams of becoming a writer.

It took a while to become a writer. I had to learn English once we moved to the US. Then, I went to college and earned three degrees and worked for a living. But all along I wanted to become a writer.

The dream became a reality when one day I told my son Daniel a story about my father. My little boy turned to me and said: "Daddy, that's a great story, why don't you write it?" I did and the story came out as a picture book: When This World Was New. Five children's book followed as well as several works of non-fiction on the history of Latinos in the US and the Caribbean. Now, I go back and forth: fiction for children, non-fiction for adults. I'm not yet the writer I want to be. But my dream continues. I'm blessed that I have over a dozen books published and have worked with great editors. Of course, my late parents and my own family inspire me: they are the beat of my Latin heart!