Consider, he continues in this memorable portrait of Latino family life, the case of his grandparents, who fled from civil-war-torn Mexico to the United States in 1910. As they traveled north, his father told Villaseñor, "Cannons were blasting. People were screaming and dying. The creeks ran red with blood." But Villaseñor's grandmother's stories about "the stars, the moon, the she-fox" kept the children's minds off the terrors around them, guiding them to their new homeland and shaping family history. That history provides the grist for Villaseñor's exuberantly spinning mill, yielding a sprawling narrative shot through with touches of magical realism and homespun philosophy, and tinged occasionally with regret--as when, for instance, Villaseñor's mother confesses, "I miss your father so much ... but I'm the one who could never bring myself to tell him that I loved him."

But sorrow is rare and humor plentiful as Villaseñor affectionately recounts his relatives' travails and improbable dreams, some of which, like a grandfather's quest for gold in a hidden Mexican canyon, come true. As he writes, Villaseñor underscores the importance of tradition, faith, forgiveness, and, yes, good stories in making life livable, and this good story will please many readers. --Gregory McNamee

When Victor Villaseñor stood at the podium and looked at the group of teachers amassed before him, he became enraged. He had never spoken in public before. His mind was flooded with childhood memories filled with humiliation, misunderstanding, and abuse at the hands of his teachers. With his heart pounding, he began to speak of these incidents. To his disbelief, the teachers before him responded to his embittered recollection with a standing ovation. Many could not contain their own tears.

So begins a touching memoir of an extremely angry adolescent. Highly gifted and imaginative, Villaseñor coped with an untreated learning disability (he was finally diagnosed with extreme dyslexia at the age of forty-four) and the frustration he felt growing up Latino in an English-only American school system that had neither the cultural understanding nor the resources to deal with Hispanic students.

Often beaten by his teachers because he could not speak English, Villaseñor was made to feel ashamed about his heritage, and even questioned the core values prioritized by his tight-knit family. Villaseñor's dyslexia, and growing frustration over not fitting in, fueled his dream to one day become a writer. He is now considered one of the premier writers of our time.

With his signature passion, his gift as a storyteller, and his own incredible story, Villaseñor allows readers into the soul of a young life touched by insecurity yet encouraged by a personal sense of artistic destiny. Burro Genius, a complex and inspiring coming-of-age story, is certain to become an American classic.

Before long, Roberto finds himself in the land of promise in the midst of golden fields and fertile fruit orchards where he can make more money in a week than he could have made in a year back home. Quickly he learns that the backbreaking work in vegetable fields under the powerful sun does not gain him the wealth, freedom, and power that he'd hoped. But even in that world of cramped trains, deadly deserts and horrifying conditions, Roberto is determined to make a place for himself.

Little Crow and Father Crow sit on the branch of a tall tree surveying the freshly planted corn field. Father Crow tells Little Crow that the human father and son they see working in the fields do a lot for crows. They plant corn, they move water, and they feed the crows with their fields. The crows sing their gratitude to the farmers, but in spite of their efforts to sing their best songs, the farmers don't like the crows.

As they watch, the tricky farmer bends to get a rock. He hides it by the side of his leg, and when they get in close range, the farmer launches his missile at the crows. But Little Crow and Father Crow are much too fast for him. They fly overhead, laughing and singing. Other crows are not so lucky, like Uncle Fly-Too-Late whose wing was broken when a farmer threw a rock.

Little Crow is troubled. What if the farmer picked up a rock when Little Crow wasn't looking? What if Little Crow couldn't get away fast enough? Soon, Little Crow has an idea that just might save all the crows.