No Comprendo

Why is it that many publishers have difficulty cracking the Latino market—yet they love margaritas and guacamole? An exchange between an inquisitive New York publisher and Mexican-American guru Gustavo Arellano sheds some light.

Dear Mexican: Latinos are now the nation's largest minority, and Mexicans make up almost two-thirds of that population. How can book publishers cash in?

Dear Gabacha: Publish good books. A common misperception among publishing houses is that Latinos will buy any libro so long as the author has a Hispanic surname, the cover features sombreros and the plot involves a talking burro. Sorry, kids: Latino readers don't want the publishing version of affirmative action—they demand quality. They want crisp writing, fresh stories, writers who can illuminate all the angles of Latino U.S.A. instead of ruminating for the umpteenth time about illegal immigrants and their tough-as-tamales lives. More Sandra Cisneroses, fewer Dirty Girls Social Club rip-offs, por favor.

But your forthcoming book¡Ask a Mexican¡deals only with stereotypes! Doesn't its publication fly in the face of your advice?

Gracias for the plug, but you're wrong. ¡Ask a Mexican! is a compilation of my same-named syndicated column where I answer reader-submitted questions about America's spiciest minority. The column has been quite a smash because it debunks centuries-old stereotypes in a ruthless, intellectual manner. I also answer thoughtful questions, like why Mexicans sell oranges on street corners.

Why do they?

What do you want them to sell—Steinways?

So what kind of books do Latinos buy?

Depends on the Latino. Recent immigrants like books en español with pictures of sexy ladies and graphic crime scenes, or biographies of luminaries. College students lap up politically charged tomes that offer advice on how to better communities and include at least one reference to Che Guevara. Latinos enjoy fiction more than nonfiction save for essay collections. And like all good Americans, Latinos love Stephen King a bit too mucho.

Argh—too segmented a market. We'll stick to ignoring Latinos.

Go ahead, but refry this: a 2004 study by the University of Georgia's Selig Center for Economic Growth showed that the buying power of Latinos is growing annually by 8.2%—almost twice the rate of non-Latinos. In 2004, the figure was $686 billion. And let me tell you—we don't spend it all on smuggling fees.

Where do Mexicans like to shop?

For fireworks? Tijuana. For pirated CDs? The swap meet. For books? The Orange County, Calif., Librería Martínez, the country's premier Latino-themed bookstore. Owner Rueben Martínez won a 2005 MacArthur Foundation genius grant for his efforts to promote literacy among Latinos and is a tireless advocate of Latino authors.

Okay, you've convinced us. We want to find more Latino writers—but none of us know Spanish. Is this why there are so few beaners in publishing?

It's all a matter of access, amiga. Most big-name publishers operate from that Island in the Sky known as Manhattan and thus have little clue as to what's going on in America. If your editors and talent agents bothered to visit this country some time, they'd discover a slew of talented Latino writers—and sí: we all speak English.

By the way, stop thinking of Latino authors as the better-dressed relatives of your office's cleaning ladies. Most of them went to college, some have writing chops (shout-out to The People of Paper author Salvador Plascencia, who makes David Foster Wallace seem as illiterate as a Kansan school board member), and few Latino authors even embrace the label "Latino." It's a cliché to say the following, but it bears repeating: Latinos are Americans, too. So treat your Latino authors like you do other authors—as pampered, overpaid, deadline-missing mensos.