I have one story that is eligible for awards consideration this year:
Dead reckoning in 6/8 time: A novelette-length story about the ghost of an immigrant mother; her adult daughter who lives uneasily in two worlds; the magic of Son Jarocho music, and the effort of both mother and daughter to out-dance the Devil.
Some background: My mother spent many of her formative years in Boca del Rio, Veracruz. A Mexican citizen for half her life, and a Guatemalan citizen the other half, she knew a thing or two about having feet in two worlds. I remember attending a number of folklórico performances with her in Mexico City (a city she loved in all its many manifestations) and understood that when we hit the Son Jarocho segment, she’d go uncharacteristically quiet, wholly in the grip of memory and its soundtrack.
She was both like and unlike Adriana’s mother in the story. A few weeks after her death, I was in my parents’ house in Pennsylvania, complaining aloud to myself about all the unfinished business she had left for me, when one of her sculptures (she was a professional artist) pretty much leapt off the wall and bonked me on the head. She had had enough of my whining — it was time to get on with the work at hand.
I am not haunted by my mother, as Adriana is, but, as I say in the story, there is a “bone-deep link between mother and daughter that outlasts everything: unsaid words, bad choices, death.”
If you haven’t read it yet, go give it a read at GigaNotoSaurus — a publisher you definitely want to follow — and if you like it and are nominator for Nebulas, Hugos, or any other such awards, please consider giving it a nod.
By the way, in advance of reading the story (or after reading it), if you don’t know what the Son Jarocho zapateado looks like, here is an example:
And if you want to glimpse jaraneros and bailadores in a fandango together, check out this video from a fifth-generation traditional son jarocho bailadora (in Spanish):
Sabrina Vourvoulias 