You sit on the sofa chair and grab the clipboard. Sloppy handwriting spells out a message that has been crossed out and re-written many, many times:
“
Santiago is really nice okay, I promise a therapist working with Latinx immigrants in the pee-stinking mess that is New York City.
Originally from México, he has glaring ADHD is passionate about weaving culture, mental health, queerness, and social justice into all his stories; as well as Spanish, para ESPAGNOL presione el nueve, his native language. He lives in the intersection of ANXIETY magic realism, existential crises wonder, and whimsical overthinking self-reflection; but you can also find him running away from his problems between coffee shops while fearlessly and attractively battling the third second draft of a novel, or writing poetry can I even call it poetry? for strangers at Central Park.
He's a great writter been published in Litro Magazine, Occulum Journal, Literally Stories, written so much, like 3 novels and 25 stories, please read them and won second place wahooooo! in Flash Fiction Magazine's 2023 contest. He’s been rejected by so many journals oh god please publish him many others, but sometimes nicely. He's a Taos Toolbox 2023 graduate, where he won your love and admiration George R.R. Martin's Terran Prize. Me, winning awards? Inconceivable!
Can I call myself an author at this point???
”
You feel something poking from the side of the sofa chair. Reaching in, you find a pack of chocolates.
EN 
ES