Mariano Velez

INKBLOTZ

  • Author in the Wild: My First Book Signing 

    There’s something a little magical about seeing a dream take shape in front of your eyes. Today, I got to do just that. My very first book signing and meet-and-greet wasn’t just an event—it was a moment I’ll remember for… more ›

  • On Being a Writer (Ay, Sí… Mira Qué Chingón)

    As a writer—ay, sí, mira qué chingón—I’ve discovered something both humbling and infuriating: I find myself completely at a loss for words far more often than I care to admit. It’s not for lack of ideas. Oh no. I have… more ›

  • Home Alone (Yeah, not that one…)

    Every now and then—usually when I’m sitting around minding my own business, sipping something cold, letting the world drift by—I’ll get hit with one of those memories from way back. No warning. No reason.Just… poof. A moment from my past… more ›

  • Where Baseball Loved Us Back: Memories Filtered Through a Child’s Eyes

    There’s a certain magic to baseball that no other sport has ever quite managed to touch. Football thunders, basketball dazzles, soccer never stops moving—but baseball? Baseball breathes. It invites you in, lets you linger, gives you space to fall in… more ›

  • The Hierarchy of Everyday Life (According to an Overcaffeinated Educator)

    Or: A Day in the Life of Someone Who Wakes Up Already Tired Let’s be honest: adulthood is basically a group project where nobody knows what’s going on, and the teacher—ironically—is you. And before any of that noble, inspiring educator… more ›

  • Epic Quests Require Fries: A Charro’s Story

    After our performance at the closing of the Cattle Call Rodeo in Brawley, I rolled up to In-N-Out thinking I’d grab a quick bite. The place looked packed to the gills. Maybe not the best decision I’ve made, but hope… more ›

  • I Think My Fence Has a Drinking Problem

    I was outside grilling, enjoying a cold one, just watching the smoke drift up and pretending I knew exactly what I was doing. I take a sip, and out of the corner of my eye I catch this little glint—light… more ›

  • Somehow, I Published a Book (And Survived)

    Ideas have always shown up unannounced, like they were crashing a party I didn’t even know I was hosting. Some linger politely, evolving over months or years, migrating between my head, notebooks, and random scraps of paper. Others disappear the… more ›

  • An Invitation Home: Remembering, Celebrating, and Holding On

    I’ve known about Día de los Muertos for as long as I can remember. Growing up, it was always there—on the calendar, in the stores, in movies and at school—a colorful annual tradition with marigolds, sugar skulls, and altars filling… more ›

  • Being me…

    The hardest thing about being me is forgetting how hard it is to be me. I wake, I move, I mend the cracks and call it progress. I joke, I help, I give what’s left and call it love. Some… more ›

  • Cooking: the world’s most delicious dehydration project

    Did y’all know that cooking is basically just strategically drying your food to a preferred edible status? That’s it. That’s the whole operation. We’ve spent centuries building cuisines, writing cookbooks, and inventing culinary arts, but at the end of the… more ›

  • Under the Friday Night Lights

    There’s something almost magical about a fall night at Calexico High, warm and humid, with a light drizzle turning Belcher Field into a glistening diamond under the Friday night lights. The smell of fried foods and hot dogs drifts through… more ›

  • The Curiosity of Curiosity

    Curiosity is one of the first languages children learn. Long before they master full sentences, they’re pointing, tugging, and asking questions in a hundred different ways—“What’s that?” “Why?” “How come?” A child doesn’t just accept the world as it is;… more ›

  • A Writer’s Manifesto

    (Or Am I Just Rambling?) I remember, when I was still a teacher, how I answered the question: What makes a good writer? I always said, “Just write every day. Practice it.” Now, with many years of surviving life on… more ›

  • Rain, Memories, and Mischief

    Not too long ago, I wrote about memories and how they have a way of popping up when you least expect them. Maybe it’s because I’m — how shall we say — a little older now, but I find myself… more ›