PHOTO: Award-winning author Yvette Canoura blends journalism, culture, and imagination to craft compelling fiction and heartfelt children’s stories.
Multicultural Fiction Rooted in Truth and Heart
Award-winning author Yvette Canoura discusses writing across cultures, preserving emotional depth in translation, and the inspiration behind her suspenseful, heartfelt novels and her debut bilingual children’s book.
Yvette Canoura writes with a rare kind of precision—the sort that doesn’t just craft a story, but carries you into the soul of it. Her narratives unfold like music: carefully composed, emotionally charged, deeply rooted in cultural authenticity. Whether portraying the stark contrasts of forbidden love in Mediterranean Sunset or unravelling the suspenseful threads of identity and betrayal in Children of Antarah, Canoura writes with a journalist’s rigour and a novelist’s heart.
From the sun-soaked coastlines of the Levant to the vibrant streets of Puerto Rico, her work bridges continents and generations. Her prose is rich with texture, often weaving the personal with the political, and never shying away from the complexities of culture, conflict, and connection. Her characters live in the margins where tradition meets transformation—and it is precisely in those spaces that her stories find their greatest depth.
With each book, Canoura invites readers to witness—not just observe—the worlds she brings to life. Her bilingual storytelling and multicultural perspective are not simply stylistic choices; they are declarations of belonging, empathy, and intention. Few authors succeed in giving such equal weight to love and legacy.
In conversation, as on the page, she is thoughtful, grounded, and unafraid to speak about the emotional truths that inspire her work. Her voice is one that deserves to be heard—clearly, and across every language.
How did your background in journalism shape the storytelling and pacing in Mediterranean Sunset and Children of Antarah?
As a journalist, I learned the importance of research, accuracy, and structure. My background helped me naturally approach stories with a clear beginning, middle, and end. I’ve always worked on topics that both inform and entertain, and I apply that same formula to fiction. In both Mediterranean Sunset and Children of Antarah, I weave complex themes into accessible narratives, often blending suspense and emotion in a way that reflects my reporting style: sharp, focused, and layered.
What inspired you to explore themes of arranged marriage, forbidden love, and cultural conflict in Fatima’s journey?
My husband is from Syria, and I’ve been fortunate to visit the Middle East several times. I fell in love with the people, the culture, and the food. But I also struggled to grasp certain customs, particularly arranged marriages. As someone who believes in lifelong love built on connection and choice, I was intrigued by the emotional conflict it can cause. With Fatima, I wanted readers to wrestle with that same tension. Her journey explores the idea that happiness can be found in unexpected places, even when it means going against tradition. Life is rarely perfect, and that’s what makes Fatima so human.
How do you approach writing romantic suspense within a multicultural context, ensuring authenticity without reinforcing stereotypes?
Being married to a Middle Easterner gave me firsthand insight into the region’s complexities. My journalistic instincts made me especially careful not to simplify or stereotype. My characters are real people shaped by culture, not defined by it. I write from the perspective of my experience to encourage readers to discover a culture as I did—with curiosity, respect, and connection. This includes the richness of customs, the importance of religion, and the beauty in everyday details. I strive to ensure that my representation is respectful, thoughtful, and genuine.
In Children of Antarah, political intrigue plays a central role—how do you balance global themes with personal stakes in your plots?
Suspense with a political twist is one of my favourite genres. In Children of Antarah, power struggles, betrayal, and hidden agendas serve as a backdrop for a much more intimate story. I focus on how these events shape relationships, test loyalties, and challenge my characters’ sense of identity. No matter how high the stakes, the story always comes back to love, trust, and the resilience of the human spirit. When readers connect to the characters, the tension becomes more powerful.
What was the collaborative process like when translating your novels into Spanish, and how do you preserve the emotional depth across languages?
Translation is a fascinating challenge. I collaborated with a friend who deeply understood the stories in English and shared my passion for preserving their emotional tone. With my education in Spanish, we worked side by side, often reading aloud and tweaking words until the sentence had the same impact in both languages. We kept refining each line until the phrasing felt just right. It was intense, but as fun and rewarding as writing the original.
Hasán’s Adventures in Puerto Rico takes a different tone—what motivated you to write for children, and how did that experience differ from your adult fiction?
This book was born from my love for my son. When Hasan was five, we began travelling to Puerto Rico every summer to connect him with his roots. It was my husband’s idea, and it soon became our tradition. Nearly two decades later, my son still visits the island every year. Hasán’s Adventures in Puerto Rico is my way of honouring our bond. Writing for children is completely different than romantic suspense. It requires simplicity, clarity, and joy to spark a child’s imagination. Collaborating with student illustrators from Puerto Rico was an enriching experience, and seeing the book’s impact, especially knowing that proceeds benefit children with cancer, makes it one of my proudest achievements. This is more than a story; it’s my legacy.
Your personal connection to Middle Eastern culture strongly influences your work—how has your own intercultural marriage informed your characters and settings?
When I first visited Syria, I witnessed a breathtaking Mediterranean sunset in Latakia, my husband’s hometown. I immediately thought that was a perfect title for a novel. The rest flowed from there. My marriage has been a window into another world, one that inspired much of the emotion, setting, and depth in my books. My stories are a collage of fact and fiction, drawn from real experiences but given life through imagination. That blend allows me to explore love and suspense across cultural lines with respect and fascination.
What advice would you offer to other authors looking to write across cultures or translate their own work while staying true to its essence?
Travel. Observe. Ask questions. Be curious but humble. If you’re going to write across cultures, you need to spend time with the people and traditions you’re writing about. Do the research. Be aware of what you don’t know. Writing across cultures is a privilege and a responsibility. And if you’re bilingual, be involved in your translation. Language isn’t just words, but rhythm, emotion, and soul. Make sure your story doesn’t just cross borders, but connects hearts.
