Mark Balcon seems to be a man in middle life who has achieved success—at least by the usual societal rules: he is financially stable, is a successful writer, and has a career that brings him great joy and rewards. What society can't measure, and what people not on intimate terms with Balcon can't discern is that Balcon is empty on the inside.

Allow me to qualify that: the fictional author Balcon is empty in his heart, but certainly not in his imagination. He has learned to live his life vicariously through the characters he creates and writes about. A guilt-ridden person by virtue of a strong Hispanic Catholic upbringing, Mark Balcon is able to experience a range of emotions he has long-stifled within himself.

When he leasts expects it, Mark Balcon meets a young woman, Emilia, who brings joy into his life each time he sees her, each time he recalls her. An unsuccessful, loveless marriage long behind him, Mark Balcon has been in an emotional wilderness; Emilia is either a lovely mirage or the light at the end of what has been an interminably dark and endless tunnel.

Just when life begins to hold hope for Balcon, he is diagnosed with a terminal illness. The internal struggle than ensues is heart rending for both the protagonist and the reader.

CRY WATERCOLORS is a palette of thoughts and emotions that writer Carlos Alvarado uses to paint deftly with words. Don't expect sappy or morose when you read this story; it is, instead, uplifting even while it examines the life of a man for whom joy and happiness have been rare friends.