messy, your aunt will say, “Oh, mira esa bruja!” The word itself has
both negative and empowering connotations. In Latin American
countries, like Ecuador, the neighborhood “bruja” might be someone to
be feared. One of my most vivid memories is watching a neighborhood
bruja rub an egg over a baby’s body to determine whether or not he had
the Evil Eye. Since all of these countries have a large Catholic
population, it’s easy to place a bruja, or witch, in a negative light.
In the last couple of years in the U.S., I’ve seen Latin women all
over the Internet take back the word “bruja” with pride, from the
Latina skate crew in the Bronx (The Brujas) to the contemporary young
women who practice nondenominational brujeria.
Brujeria is a faith for many, but it is not the faith in my book.
In Labyrinth Lost , I chose to call Alex and her family “brujas” and
“brujos” because their origins do not come from Europe or Salem.
Alex’s ancestors come from Ecuador, Spain, Africa, Mexico, and the
Caribbean. Her magic is like Latin America-a combination of the old
world and new.
DEATHDAY
The Deathday is a magical coming-of-age of my own creation. Like a
bat mitzvah or a sweet sixteen, but for brujas and brujos. It is a
time when a family gets together and wakes the dead spirits of their
ancestors. The ancestors then give their blessing to the bruja/o. With
the blessing, the magic can grow and reach its full potential. Without
the blessing, well, bad things can happen. Like many traditions, they
grow and become modernized. In Alex’s time, Brooklyn circa now,
Deathdays are lined up with birthdays for extra festivities. Even
though the Deathday ceremony was created for the world of Labyrinth
Lost , aspects of it are inspired by the Day of the Dead and Santeria.
El Dнa de los Muertos, or the Day of the Dead, is a Mexican
holiday that celebrates and honors deceased family members through
food and festivities. Altars are filled with photographs, flowers,
food, and candles. The celebrations are then taken to the cemeteries,
where people play games, sing, and even leave shots of mezcal for the
adult spirits. The unity of death and family is what drew me to it and
one of the things I wanted to include in Alex’s life. One of the best
books I’ve read on the subject was The Skeleton at the Feast: The Day
of the Dead in Mexico by Elizabeth Carmichael.
Santeria is an Afro-Caribbean religion that syncretizes Yoruba
beliefs and aspects of Catholicism. It developed when slaves from
Western Africa were taken to Cuba and other Caribbean Islands against
their will. Slaves were forced to convert but held on to their
religion in secret, and used Catholic saints as parallels to their
orishas. Those who don’t understand it often see Santeria as a
secretive and underground religion. Like some Santeros, the brujas of
Labyrinth Lost use animal sacrifice and possession, and connect
directly to their gods. The Santeria orishas, however, are not gods
but parts of the Supreme God. For further information, a popular
starting point is Santeria: The Religion: Faith, Rites, Magic by
Migene Gonzбlez-Wippler.
DEATH MASK
The matriarch of the family paints a death mask on the bruja
receiving her Deathday. The Deathday ceremony was originated by
Mexican brujas in Labyrinth Lost . The death mask is white clay that
covers the face. Then a black paint or charcoal powder is used for the
eyes, nose, and lips. Thousands of years ago, Alta Brujas realized
that the dead weren’t appearing at the Deathday ceremonies. They
decided they needed to dress up like the dead to make them feel at
home. Death became an intricate part of day to day bruja ceremonies
and festivities.
The death mask itself is, of course, influenced by the sugar
skulls of the Day of the Dead. In real life, sugar skulls are used to
represent the dead and decorate the wonderful feasts of Dнa de los
Muertos. They’re colorful and smiling and are sometimes meant as
social commentary. In the early 1900s, an artist named Josй Guadalupe
Posada created the Catrinas. They were skeletons dressed in
upper-class Spanish clothes and meant as satire of the Mexican
Indians, who were trying to copy the European aristocracy.
THE DEOS
The Deos in Labyrinth Lost are the pantheon of gods worshipped by
brujas and brujos. The Deos represent all aspects of nature, creation,
and everyday life, similar to the orishas of Santeria and the gods of
Greek mythology. When I was creating the Deos, I chose to name them
using the Spanish and Spanish-like words that corresponded to their
physical attributes and powers. El Fuego = fire. El Viento = wind. La
Ola = water. The highest of the Deos are La Mama, the mother of all
gods. Her sacred symbol is the sun. Her counterpart is El Papa, the
father of all gods. His symbol is the crescent moon. Brujas and brujos
often choose a Deo the way Catholics choose a patron saint to pray to.
Alex knows magic is real, but she has a hard time putting her faith
and belief in something that has caused her family so much pain. Even
though the Deos rarely present themselves to mortals, they make their
presence known. It is believed that the Deos act through the mortals
they created-the brujas and brujos.
For more information about the world of Labyrinth Lost , email me
at zoraidawrites@gmail. com.
Acknowledgments
This is a book I’ve always wanted to write. It wouldn’t be
possible without my agent, Adrienne Rosado, and my wonderful editors,
Aubrey Poole and Kate Prosswimmer. Thank you, ladies, for enduring
every draft and revision, and staying with Alex to the very end. To
the fantastic team at Sourcebooks Fire, including Alex Yeadon, Amelia
Narigon, Elizabeth Boyer, Nicole Komasinski, and my publisher,
Dominique Raccah.
My incredible beta readers: Natalie Horbachevsky, Hannah Gуmez,
Anne Greenwood Brown, Ellen Goodlett, and Rebecca Enzor. Elisabeth
Wilhelm, for your thoughtful notes and for cheering me on as I revised
on our train to Berlin. David Collett, for that medical torture
advice. Cat Scully, for the most amazing world map. Gretchen Stelter
for correcting my terrible grammar-and sorry about all the commas.
For Lauren McCall. Thank you for reading this book in its earliest
stages. Thank you for bringing my words to life. To everyone who
worked on the short film/book trailer: Brenda Salazar, Brenda
Cespedes, Danielle McAllister, Erin Gross, Sam Rojas, Sara Ott,
Varyana Galmadez, Daniel Waynick and lovely Lula, Jessica Naftaly,
Madison Pflug, Emily Simpkins, Jasmine Carruthers, Macs Dawson,
Jennifer Westburgh, Judith Parades, Gabby Wales, and Amanda DiMartino.
My bruja cast: Amanda Villanova, Adriana Medina, Aimee
Alburquerque, Raiane Cantisano, Shari Abdul, Agustina Bernguer, and
Nicole Coiscou.
To my witches, harpies, and badass writer ladies who keep me
inspired. My friends who cheer me on and believe in me, especially
Gretchen McNeil, Dhonielle Clayton, and Melissa Grey. Amy Plum, for
Paris and for giving me a place to finish this book. My fellow
traveling author buds, Adi Alsaid and Eric Smith.
To my parents, Liliana and Joe Vescuso; my incredible grandmother,
Alejandrina Guerrero; my best roommate and brother Danny; Caco and
Robert; Tio Danny and Ne; and the rest of my Ecuadorian tribe.
Finally, for all the girls and boys: you are enough.