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Sebastien Smith & Victoria Paraíso
Introduction: Sebastien Smith is the author and illustrator of LA Endless Nights, the Hugo award-winning fantasy graphic novel series.
Victoria Paraíso’s paranormal romance series, Love Everlasting, is a USA TODAY bestseller with a cultlike following.
Please silence your phones and give a warm welcome to our authors!
Sebastien Smith
My origin story is not twisted or complicated. A kid watching reruns of Scooby-Doo in his pajamas while munching on a box
of Honey Nut Cheerios. I hated that the monsters or ghosts always turned out to be ordinary crooks in disguise. Kids know
better. Ghosts are real. Monsters hide in our closets. Something is lurking in the basement.
When I was ten, my grandpa, “Pops,” died in his sleep. Before his body was discovered, he came to my bedroom to say goodbye.
I was awake, reading in bed. He showed up at my door, smiled, waved, and gave me one last tender look. He knew I was “different.”
He knew I had a tough road ahead. He did not want to leave me so soon. Somehow, without saying a word, he said all this and
more.
He walked away just when my grandma started wailing in their bedroom across the hall. But Pops had severe knee pain, and it
struck me that for once he was not limping. At his funeral, I didn’t cry. I knew he was okay.
All my books are dedicated to the grandparent who gave me a peek beyond the thin veil that separates this world and another,
one in which an eighty-five-year-old disabled man could regain his step. And if that small miracle was possible, what else? . . .
Victoria Paraíso
I came prepared to talk about a writer I admire greatly, Mary Shelley, and not just her novel, Frankenstein, but also her life. Her mother was a feminist writer, as I aspire to be. My heroine, Clara Everina, is named after one of
her children. She was a passionate lover, and famously kept the heart of her late husband wrapped in silk in her desk drawer.
Tonight, I’d like to talk about Maria Paraíso instead.
My Puerto Rican grandmother moved with her family to New York City in the 1940s. She grew up poor and married out of necessity.
But she was scrappy and ambitious. Mostly, she had faith in her abilities, her God-given talents and gifts. Faith and belief
were not enough in a world designed to hold women back. She needed credit and capital. To start her business, my sweet, artistic
grandfather presented himself as the hard-nosed entrepreneur. He took out the loans and leased the warehouse. Still, she had
to fight for every inch of market share. Abuela Maria describes the predatory lenders, slumlords, and competitors as “a pack
of bloodsuckers.” Is it any wonder I write about vampires? . . .