Bodega Botanica Tales: Carmen is a magical-realism coming-of-age story that follows Carmen, a girl growing up in the rough edges of Silk City, where money is tight, danger feels ordinary, and a mysterious bodega might hold both miracles and curses. The book opens with Carmen navigating period poverty, unreliable adults, and shifting friendships, and soon pulls her into a world where a mystical figure named Chankla, glowing bracelets, and even chupacabras become intertwined with her very real struggles at home. The story carries her from childhood fear and survival into adulthood, where old wounds return and demand to be understood before she can move forward.

The writing is simple but charged. Carmen’s voice has this raw honesty that makes even small moments feel heavy in your hands. I kept noticing how carefully the author, Maria Rodriguez Bross, lets the magical elements slip in. They shimmer at the edges, like something you might catch from the corner of your eye. And because the emotional world is so grounded, the magic feels earned. The author doesn’t cushion anything either. Period poverty, family instability, and violence aren’t treated like plot devices but like daily realities Carmen has to navigate long before she should have to.

What I liked most was how the story keeps circling back to the same question: what does protection really look like, and who gets to have it? Carmen is just a kid trying to hold herself together, and sometimes she breaks in ways that feel relatable. I found myself frustrated with her, then proud of her, then worried for her, sometimes all in the span of a page. And when the book moves into the adult timeline, the consequences of what she lived through land with real weight. The magic expands, but it doesn’t erase anything. Instead, it forces her to face what she ran from. Some scenes feel almost dreamlike, others feel like they’re scraping the inside of your ribs, but they all build toward a truth Carmen has been avoiding for years.

The book blends mystical folklore with the grit of urban life in a way that feels cohesive, not gimmicky. And though it has fantasy woven through it, the heart of the story is emotional realism: trauma, friendship, shame, longing, and the slow work of claiming your own story. I’d recommend this book to readers who enjoy magical realism that’s rooted in real-world hardship, especially stories centering Latina girls and women finding power in places that once hurt them. If you like books where supernatural elements highlight emotional truth rather than distract from it, this one will definitely stay with you.

Pages: 146 | ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0G1RF7QGV