About Jorge San Martin
Jorge Alfredo San Martin Zambrano was born in Santiago, Chile, but his writing journey began in Boston, many years later. At the age of sixty-two, Jorge obtained his Bachelor of Liberal Studies in English & American Literature from Boston University. His first story, “Fello’s Magic Dirt,” was published in Clarion.
After graduation, Jorge also attended several semesters of the MFA program at Emerson College, and took online courses in creative writing from Harvard University. During this period, he realized it was time to birth his first novel, Lealtad. He now writes full-time.
He is currently working on a novel, Illusions, planned for publication in 2026.
How Lealtad came to be written…
Jorge San Martin Zambrano was inspired to write Lealtad when he saw a yellow sticky note on a glass door. Onto this note, a young woman had poured her pain, describing a date gone bad. What struck him was the loyalty the woman showed to herself in not being silent about her pain. Reading the note, Jorge understood that he needed to show himself that type of loyalty. And he realized that he could be a voice for the voiceless. That moment was a catalyst.
As he wrote, he recalled his own experience being inappropriately touched by a person in power, and he went through a progression of devastation, rage, forgiveness, and, ultimately, healing—a process of becoming loyal to himself.
Many of Jorge’s works explore forgiveness as a form of healing. He believes forgiveness restores the soul, where our most profound emotions rest and sometimes hide.
Lealtad shows us that it is possible to be whole again through forgiveness. It shows us that forgiveness is an act of empowerment.
More about the author and his works…
It’s interesting what we regard as vital at different points in our lives. When I was seven, it was my army of nine-volt batteries, which aligned perfectly against the advancing caterpillars in my backyard. The batteries comprised a battalion of tanks, and they engaged the swaying monsters that fell from the damask tree beside our farmhouse. The following year, I moved on to bigger things.
I wanted to kiss a girl, to discover for myself what all the fuss was about, so when Monica came to our house one Sunday in her white dress, I stood on my tiptoes to prove my theory—that there was no need to turn the head sideways when kissing someone, as the movie stars did. I still remember her refulgent brown eyes. She was twelve, I was eight, and my pockets were filled with nine-volt batteries.
Shortly after that, I became enamored with sound. At the time, I didn’t understand what my spirit knew—that music was a way my soul could express itself. All I knew was that I wanted to learn to play several different percussion instruments, which I did. I also listened to how women spoke. Their voices were soothing to me. That love affair continued throughout the years.
My life made sense through sound.
But writing? The idea was terrifying. I think deep down I knew that if I began to write, I’d discover things I wasn’t ready to face.
It wasn’t until I was in my fifties that I set out to conquer my fear of writing. The were words within me, and I couldn’t hide them any longer. Putting words on paper was akin to getting on my tiptoes to kiss a girl in front of my whole family—something I never heard the end of. It was a story my mother repeated at parties while my face turned as red as the ripe tomatoes on our farm.
My passion for writing began with the desire to tackle not just my fear but also an underlying excitement. Stories that I’d once believed were impossible to write. Stay tuned for more on this idea in my next book, Illusions, set for publication in 2026.