PHOTO: Award-winning Uruguayan novelist Marcos Llemes at a literary fair, surrounded by stacks of his acclaimed books.
Exploring Childhood, Imagination, And Literary Dreams
Award-winning Uruguayan author Marcos Llemes shares insights into his creative journey, the balance of reality and fantasy in children’s literature, and his unwavering dedication to crafting meaningful stories for young readers.
Marcos Llemes’s stories bridge the deeply personal with the fantastical, creating worlds where imagination becomes both a refuge and a revelation. From the sweeping forests of rural Uruguay to the shadowed realms of the afterlife, his narratives explore the fragile connections between childhood wonder and the complexities of reality. Llemes’s ability to weave fantasy into his exploration of profound themes—mental health, grief, family, identity—has earned him acclaim not just as a writer, but as a conjurer of truth wrapped in magic.
His works, including the award-winning Bruno y la nube con forma de dragón and Tonio y el benteveo, demonstrate his unique approach to storytelling: one that invites readers of all ages to not only dream, but reflect. Through deeply emotional characters and vividly imagined worlds, Llemes crafts stories that resonate long after the final page is turned. Whether delving into childhood struggles or presenting dark forces that haunt his protagonists, he is unafraid to tread into those spaces where vulnerability and courage meet.
In a literary realm often shaped by trends, Llemes remains steadfast to his vision. By blending Uruguay’s landscapes, his own formative experiences, and universal themes, he creates stories that transcend borders and languages. For those who still believe in the power of stories to illuminate unseen corners of the soul, Marcos Llemes offers a beacon—reminding us that sometimes the most magical journeys begin with the simplest of questions: What if…?
In Tonio y el benteveo, how did your childhood experiences influence the creation of Tonio’s character and his magical encounter?
This is the book that feels closest to my own childhood. With this story, I wanted to capture what it was like to be a child growing up in the 1990s, in rural Uruguay, surrounded by nature (with a forest right in front of the school), and letting imagination run wild. A simple life, but a magical one. That’s why I dedicated it to my younger siblings—because we shared that special part of life together. Sometimes I wish I could go back to it.
Bruno y la nube con forma de dragón explores imagination and mental health. What inspired you to intertwine these themes in a children’s narrative?
For me, it’s important that a book does more than just entertain. I like writing about sensitive topics that affect not only adults but also children. It’s a challenge. I have to be careful with words I use, the tone, and always keep the reader’s age in mind. But if a child sees a bit of themselves in the characters, or feels understood by the story, then mission accomplished.
Anatema delves into grief and the afterlife. What personal or literary influences shaped this dark fantasy world?
When I wrote this book I was strongly influenced by The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri, by young adult paranormal adventures, and films like Coraline, where a dark force traps the souls of children and doesn’t let them rest in peace. It was the first story I wrote for young readers. It gave me the experience I needed to write my next books once I started working with a publisher.
Marginado presents a suspenseful scenario of captivity. How did you develop the psychological dynamics among the characters?
This was the story with which I began my self-publishing journey. At the time, I was very influenced by Stephen King’s novels and horror films. Even though it’s my least favourite book, it taught me a lot about the world of self-publishing—and how hard it is to design, promote, and get your work noticed on your own.
Your works often blend reality with fantasy. How do you balance these elements to appeal to young readers?
In my stories, it’s normal to find characters suddenly flying around the house, talking to a drawing on the wall, or playing with a giant bird. Young readers love this and usually accept it as it is. The questions about what’s “real” or “not real” mostly come from adults. They’re the ones who need to draw a clear line between reality and fantasy. It seems that the older we get, the harder it becomes to let magic into our lives—even when it’s in a children’s book.
Winning the Bartolomé Hidalgo Award is a significant achievement. How has this recognition impacted your writing journey?
The Bartolomé Hidalgo is a very prestigious award in my country. Each year, a jury selects three books per category, and only one wins. Receiving this award (and being nominated twice) was a huge honour. It has given me more confidence when submitting work to publishers or literary competitions. This July 1st, for example, I’ll receive my first international award in Barcelona, Spain—chosen from over 450 submissions from 24 countries. When I look at those numbers, it still feels unreal that I was selected as the winner, but it motivates me to keep writing.
You’ve participated in international anthologies. How have these collaborations influenced your approach to storytelling?
Being part of anthologies gave me the chance to share stories I wouldn’t have published on my own. I’ve written children’s fiction, micro-stories, horror, epic fantasy… Sometimes it’s like taking a break between projects, and other times it helps me to explore genres I’m not familiar with. Some of my favourite collaborations are a couple scientific children’s stories that I submitted to an international contest organised by SRUK/CERUK (Society of Spanish Researchers in the UK). They’re now published in Principia magazine and featured on the University of Liverpool’s literary website.
What key advice would you offer to aspiring authors aiming to write compelling children’s literature?
Read a lot. I know it’s nothing groundbreaking, but it truly works: read a lot of children’s literature. And read the good stuff: look up authors who’ve won the Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award or the Hans Christian Andersen Award. Also, don’t forget to think about what children today worry about, what they dream about, what hurts them or makes them laugh. Ask yourself: what kind of story can I offer them? And then this: if I were that child, what story would make me feel seen and understood?
