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I have had a love for writing since I was a child. With the help of the pandemic, I have reignited my love for writing and original storytelling. My stories center around my youth, growing up in Albuquerque, New Mexico, being a multiracial, gay child and my sister, Christina's, untimely death at the age of seventeen. I love to explore the complex nature of family relationships and my own Latinidad and Indigeniety in all of my stories. 


Please CLICK HERE to hear a story I wrote with Houses of the Moon Theatre Company about my family's journey to embrace our oldest child's expansive gender expression.

Sandia Mountains in Albuquerque, New Mexico
My sister, Christina and I, in Albuquerque


A poema, by Carlos Luis Encinias - 2021




Paint your nails so red, so shiny, dye your hair so blonde Chicana.

Primp your hair, cover with wigs, crooked hats.

Don’t cover that imperfection with that ratty mess.

Priscilla, mi grandma. Abulea. Abuelita mía.


Recuerdo, memoria, Christmas from the back of the closet,
a big bear for me, no tree.

Eating dulces, candy, Braches butterscotch, beans and chile.

Tortillas de mano I can still smell that burning goodness full of circular love for me.

Roses, backyard rose bushes, a path down the middle.

Gazebo, a castle for me, princessa.

Limitless love.


An orphaned girl, mi abuela, de Socorro, Nuevo Mexico or maybe Colorado.

Grandma, Abuela, Spanish, English, mix, mezcla de memorias, memories, sonrisas.

What’s real? What’s made-up?

She’s in my stories. She IS my story.

Big, long, maroon Lincoln Towncar she bumped and hit, driving half-blind crazy bitch.

Dents, bounced checks in the Walmart.

She said, “I’m sorry nieto, I tried to spoil you”, pero you did Grandma.

Government housing, que? Big blocks of yellow g’vment cheese.
But she’s rich, ella es rica!

Beauty salon owner, reina de salsa, my own Celia Cruz.

No money, all class, do for me all you could.

You spoiled me with love, no other spoilin’ needed.


Sardines, cheese, crackers, lakeside snacks we ate together.

“Look at that lake! Look at that water. Look my my nieto, querido!”

The words I’ve scripted for you Gramma.

“Don’t laugh at your grandma when she falls”.

I couldn’t help it, too much AFV TV for me.


I couldn’t help but love her.

Gracias abuela, gracias Priscilla.

Grandma C’de Baca. Encinias.



I'm always looking for new and exciting opportunities. Let's connect.


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