When we understand our histories and we can process the traumas that might have been passed down through the generations, we can better face these is… - Rudy Ruiz

The ranches and their history at the crux of the U.S.-Mexico War play a palpable role in my novels. The ranches have personalities of their own. Caja Pinta is grand and majestic, a wide-open and spiritual place that connects its inhabitants to nature and to whatever lies beyond this material world. Some might call it magic. Others might call it God. Regardless, it is a place of boundless possibility. El Dos de Copas is small, scrappy and defiant. It is literally the lowest card in the Spanish deck of playing cards. But it keeps playing. It never gives up. It is a place of beleaguered hope.

So strong had his voice become that people on neighboring ranches and farms would drag their rocking chairs onto their patios on the nights they knew he was visiting and listen to the corridos he and Fernando Cisneros sang, their voices carried on the gentle breezes of the Gulf for miles on end.

Borders are a motif in my writing. I was born and raised on the border, and my writing always takes me back there. They say you can take a person out of the border but you can't take the border out of a person. That saying definitely applies to me. Growing up, the border was an invisible line my family and I crossed every day. Because of that, I see borders as porous membranes through which people, animals, goods, services, and the environment must continuously traverse and transmit back and forth.