Reality proves more epic than fantasy in this story of a family road trip starring a reluctant young hero and his curmudgeonly grandfather. Gonzalo Alberto García has never considered himself the hero of his own story. He’s an observer, quietly snapshotting landscapes and drawing the creatures he imagines emerging from them. Forced to spend the summer with his estranged grandfather, Alberto William García--the very famous reclusive author--Gonzalo didn’t expect to learn that heroes and monsters are not only the stuff of fantasy. But that’s precisely what happens when Gonzalo’s CEO mother, Veronica, sends Alberto on tour to promote the final book in his fantasy series for children and Gonzalo must tag along, even though he feels no connection to his grandfather or the books. Together, they embark on a cross-country road trip from Mendocino to Miami in a classic 1968 Oldsmobile Cutlass S Convertible named Mathilde. Over the course of ten epic days on the highway, they will slay demons, real and imagined; confront old stories to write new ones; and learn what it truly means to show up for your family.

Autorentext
Pablo Cartaya is a sought-after speaker, actor, educator, and the award-winning author of The Epic Fail of Arturo Zamora, Marcus Vega Doesn't Speak Spanish, Each Tiny Spark, The Last Beekeeper, and Curveball. Learn more about Pablo at PabloCartaya.com and follow him online @PHCartaya.

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*A New York Times* bestseller!

Reality proves more epic than fantasy in this family road trip story starring a reluctant young hero and his curmudgeonly grandfather.**

Gonzalo Alberto Sánchez García has never considered himself the hero of his own story. He’s an observer, quietly snapshotting landscapes and drawing the creatures he imagines emerging from them. Forced to spend the summer with his estranged grandfather, Alberto William García—the very famous reclusive author—Gonzalo doesn't expect to learn that heroes and monsters are not only the stuff of fantasy.

But that’s precisely what happens when Gonzalo’s CEO mother, Veronica, sends Alberto on tour to promote the final book in his fantasy series for children and Gonzalo must tag along, even though he feels no connection to his grandfather or the books. Together, they embark on a cross-country road trip from Mendocino to Miami in a classic 1968 Oldsmobile Cutlass S convertible named Mathilde. Over the course of ten epic days on the highway, they will slay demons, real and imagined; confront old stories to write new ones; and learn what it truly means to show up for your family.

Leseprobe
Your Most Humble Narrator Begins
It should be said that Gonzalo Alberto Sánchez García never considered himself to be the hero of his own story. He was an observer. Quietly recording what he saw and experienced but never caring to play a central role—­not even in his own life.

Like with every journey, though, the protagonist hardly ever realizes they’re central to the story until later. After much prodding and poking, they finally understand and accept the terms of their role. But it takes a while, and there are steps to get there—­let’s call them phases, or guides. But first, a little background.

Gonzalo had spent most of seventh grade in a kind of daze, as it were. Yes, middle school can often be overwhelming. It zooms by like a high-­speed train, going so fast you’re terrified to even use the bathroom for fear of what might happen if the train suddenly stops. It. Can get. Messy. So you don’t use the bathroom on a train. And you don’t use the bathroom in middle school. Ever.

Gonzalo learned right away what happened if you used the dreaded toilets of Montverde Middle. Wet toilet paper stuck to the bathroom ceiling. Strange markings ran up and down the stalls. And a smell lingered on his clothes for days. And that was the first week of school! Imagine what it smelled like after the first grading period?

Terrible toilets notwithstanding, there was hope that things were going to get better during those first nine weeks of seventh grade. His father’s diagnosis looked promising. And other than holding off on going to the bathroom for an entire school day, Gonzalo seemed to be on the road to a successful start to the school year. He enjoyed geography, especially landscapes and the way the mountains shaped the earth along the coastline. And he loved art, Ms. González being his all-­time favorite teacher.

He tolerated most of the other subjects in school. Except language arts. He wasn’t a big reader of books, and after spending all of elementary school disappointing people because he wasn’t actually named after his famous grandfather’s fantasy book series, he was ready to shed the expectations of his purported namesake.

Unfortunately for Gonzalo, however, the first nine-­week grading period ended, and things took a turn for the worse. A terrible thing happened, and a fog began to encircle his brain. Then his grades suffered. He nearly failed science, his father’s favorite subject.

That’s when the drawings came. And the more he drew, the more he withdrew. By the time his mother dropped him off at his grandfather’s house in Mendocino for the summer, he had barely passed seventh grade. He spent most of his time converting photographs of landscapes he took on his iPad into terrifying drawings of monsters—­the most frequent being a creature with menacing green eyes emerging from the fog. Those eyes still follow him everywhere he goes. Grief knows no hiding place.

Things had become bleak for Gonzalo. But every hero needs to see the bottom of the ocean if they ever want to learn how to swim up to catch a new breath.
And so we open on the middle months of summer vacation. In a fog-­induced landscape surrounded by dead seabirds­ and only an iPad to keep our hero company. What should have been the relaxing calm of summer is now the opening act of Gonzalo’s journey. And each part should get him closer to recovering what has been lost. It’s also possible that the monsters of his own creation will drown him in a gross middle school toilet and flush him down the pipes of his own grief and despair. To be honest, it can go either way. Your humble narrator is merely here as a guide. I have no control over the proceedings of this story, and all I’ll offer is an occasional observation. Summer is here, and Gonzalo’s story is underway. There’s no turning back now.

Part One:
Departure

Gonzalo Speaks
I’m perched on the cliff, feet dangling. With my iPad in hand, I take a photo of the vultures having their fill of carrion covered­ by the misty fog below. I take out my pen and transform the photograph into an original drawing:

A giant sea creature rising from the fog. A messenger bird trying to get home. It’s traveled a thousand miles, only to fail just as it reaches the shore. The sea creature’s scavenging minions pouncing on the fallen messenger. The fog giant retreats into its watery kingdom. The bird loses again.

I add color to the landscape but don’t write words. I don’t like words much. I used to write my observations down all the time. My dad taught me how on our weekly trips to the canyons or the rocky beaches just north of our Santa Monica house. “Make an inference of what you observe, G-­bear.” It seemed like everything in nature was my dad’s lab. “Use the scientific method,” he would tell me. Not anymore. Drawing what I see feels better. Or taking a photograph and changing it to what I see.

The wind howls, and I look up. My grandfather waits fo…