Q&A: Emily Galvin Almanza, Author of 'Andromeda Diaz and the Reasonable Doubt'

We chat with author Emily Galvin Almanza about Andromeda Diaz and the Reasonable Doubt, which is a twisty, propulsive mystery for kids and follows a fearless fifth grader who vows to help a classmate in danger of getting lost in the system.

Hi, Emily! Can you tell our readers a bit about yourself?

Well, before I was an author, I was a public defender. And before I was a public defender, I was a kid who needed to be defended herself! So my perspective on the legal system was formed from a few different angles—the result being that, as a lawyer, I’ve always been very interested in how I can help people not only walk away from the criminal court system with their present (and future) intact, but how I can help address any underlying problems—or fallout—that arises from a court case. Because of that interest, about nine years ago I co-founded a nonprofit called Partners for Justice, which puts people (regular people, not lawyers) to work inside public defender offices, helping low-income families with housing, employment, educational access, benefits, mental health or substance use treatment, transportation, and more. I’m really proud to say that since 2018, we estimate this work has eliminated over 12,000 years of incarceration, because when we help people get on their feet and then tell judges and prosecutors about how well they’re doing, those people become much less likely to get a prison or jail sentence!

Beyond ending mass incarceration and helping people get fresh chances, I’m also passionate about making stuff—everything from building my daughter’s tree house (from design to construction, no kits!) to making her stuffed animals and baking bread. I guess all of my pursuits are a form of making things, now that I think about it—from making toys to making massive national systems of liberation.

When did you first discover your love for writing and stories?

I have always been a big reader. I don’t have any siblings, and my family traveled a lot and spent long periods in very rural places while I was growing up, so I spent about 35% of my waking hours in the real world and 65% inside novels. I’ve always loved writing—from a short novel (very short) that I wrote with the encouragement of my third-grade teacher Mrs. Naughton, to my college thesis, which was a collection of plays and poems based on mathematical formulas (very marketable topic, later published as my first book Do The Math, which I think sold six copies). After college, I supported myself with a hodgepodge of writing jobs, but later, as a lawyer, I was able to see a different facet of storytelling: the capacity of story to change minds, move hearts, and bring people home.

As a lawyer, one is always telling a story. Arguments never happen in the abstract, they are about a person, a set of facts, an incident, or a moment—a pivotal moment, where an act of mercy can change a life. For me, this manifested most directly as bail arguments, where the way one describes the story of a life either will or will not be enough to make a judge grant that person their liberty—and one is never telling just one story, but five or ten or twenty such stories in a row. The use of detail (Mr. Fredrickson is a good bet to return to court because he takes his mom to dialysis two days a week, and if he wasn’t good at showing up for things, she could quite literally die) or of thematic connection (Mrs. Suarez opens the store where she works six days a week, and is so trusted by her boss that she has the keys to the shop and the code to the safe—so shouldn’t we trust her, too?) and of course interesting story arcs and angles can make the difference between a judge automatically sending people to Rikers Island or closely paying attention and reuniting families.

Quick lightning round! Tell us:

The first book you ever remember reading: The Secret Garden, which my dad read to me
The one that made you want to become an author: The Hounds of the Morrigan, by Pat O’Shea.
The one that you can’t stop thinking about: The Cemetery of Books Quartet by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

**Your latest novel, Andromeda Diaz and the Reasonable Doubt, is out now! If you could only describe it in five words, what would they be?**

Twisty, fun, righteous, brave, mystery.

What can readers expect?

Something between Harriet the Spy and Veronica Mars, if Veronica Mars (or Nancy Drew, for that matter) was a public defender. The idea is to tell stories drawn from my own experience in the law—stories where every element of what happens is something that actually does happen in real life—where kids come face-to-face with crime, investigation, and the threat of punishment. This means that kids also encounter what we do when we’re on the precipice of really serious trouble—how do we treat each other? Who do we believe? How do we tell if something is true—or not? How do we investigate, even when the grown-ups might prefer we didn’t? And how do we know when to stand up for what’s right, even when doing so is risky, or hard?

Readers can expect to be surprised, to laugh out loud, and to meet characters who will stay with them in real life. They can also expect to learn a ton about the law, such that they can drop legal knowledge on unsuspecting adults, and also protect their own rights if they ever need to.

Where did the inspiration for Andromeda Diaz and the Reasonable Doubt come from?

Really, from two different sources: my work as a lawyer, and my life as a mom. As a lawyer, I know that kids are horrifyingly unprotected in our legal system. Millions of children go to schools with no nurse, social worker, or counselor, just police to solve conflicts. Hundreds of thousands of kids are stopped by police annually. Nine out of ten children waive their rights if stopped. When we look at wrongful convictions of kids 14 and under, over 80% of them falsely confessed to crimes, because police interrogation techniques are designed to produce compliance (not necessarily truth, mind you, but compliance) in adults, and are devastatingly over-effective on kids. To the extent that parents are having conversations with their kids about these issues, they tend to be about surviving a police encounter, rather than including guidance on “legal first aid” — how to protect yourself and your friends. So at the outset, I wanted to write something that would empower kids, and give them the knowledge—and confidence—they need to understand and safely use their rights.

As a mom, I have a fourth grader who devours books and spends the vast majority of her time ignoring me and reading. So of course my mind turned to her—could I write something that she’d love? That her friends would love? That would not just empower them, but give them good models of how to encounter accusation with all of one’s critical thinking skills active and sharp? So Andromeda is my attempt to empower kids, but also to create a devourable series, and an immersive world that builds independent thinking and empathy.

Were there any moments or characters you really enjoyed writing or exploring?

I love all of these characters enormously. Many carry elements I’ve borrowed from people in my own life—only the good stuff, really, because bad traits are easy to make up, but the good stuff can be so specific and surprising, I love borrowing it from people I love and admire. But also, within this writing, these characters have taken on a life of their own. They live quite vividly in my mind—I love thinking about how Fernando Diaz might react to some unfolding legal horror in our modern world, or how Angie would adopt the most cutting-edge gen Alpha slang. Actually, Angie deserves a shout-out: she has a modest role in this book, but in the second book, out next year, Angie really gets to shine and be her fully, hysterically funny self.

Did you face any challenges whilst writing? How did you overcome them?

My biggest challenge is trying to pack too many legal-nerd rabbit holes into a book. I’m always tempted by the weird history of money bail (totally the fault of the French, damn those Norman invaders) or Clara Shortridge Foltz (absolute legend of public defense, arguing for a defense system decades before men got all the credit for it, also auramaxxing massively puffed shoulder dresses) but it’s healthy for me to be restrained. Luckily, I have a brilliant editor—Ginee Seo at Ten Speed Press—who reins me in and sends me sweet little comments that convince me to cut my worst digressions.

What’s next for you?

Andromeda Diaz For the Defense comes out next year, and we’re really amping up the stakes—in the second book of the series, a little girl is actually incarcerated in juvenile detention, and Andromeda and Danny have to fight to get her out. It’s allowed me to write one of the characters I’ve most enjoyed: Hazel Henneman, the kind of trial beast public defender we all admire, but who also isn’t afraid to color outside the lines. But beyond the fun of writing Hazel, it’s also enabled me to convey the realities of juvenile detention in America, which isn’t depicted enough. We are a country that disappears children, and I want to bring them back into the forefront so we can hear directly from them and take part in their stories.

Lastly, what books are you looking forward to picking up? Any you’ve read so far this year that you’ve enjoyed?

I’m really excited to read The Nerd Reich, actually. The world is careening faster than we realize into something unrecognizable, and I think it’s our responsibility as the citizens of this era in history to try to stay ahead of these technologically-driven radical transformations of society. I also just read Gene Ludwig’s brilliant Mismeasurement of America, and I found it to be both compellingly readable and precise and also really earth-shattering in how it changes our understanding of national economic measures. Basically it helps explain why the official numbers we put out don’t capture how wretched everyone is feeling—it’s because the numbers are ridiculously conceived and outright wrong.