We recently had the chance to connect with Debbie Zapata and have shared our conversation below.
Debbie, so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. When was the last time you felt true joy?
The last time I truly felt joy was this summer during a sunset boat ride on Lake Travis. Growing up in Austin, only boat owners went out on the lakes. My time on the lake felt like a distant memory. This year, I set the goal to treat summer like a staycation—exploring more of what my hometown has to offer. I found a local company that offers public boat tours, and after several weather-related reschedules, it finally happened one Sunday evening in July.
At first, I was grumpy. The sky was cloudy, and I worried the evening would be a wash. But once we set off, everything changed. It was just me, my best friend, two women visiting from Philly, and our laid-back captain. The breeze and water rushed past, and I felt free. The music, an authentic Austin mix of old and new, pop and country, set the mood. Then the sun broke through, filling the sky with golden light. The moment reminded me that things often turn out well, sometimes even better than we expected.
As a writer, counselor, and yoga practitioner, I understand that joy often manifests in the body as ease in the shoulders or grounding in the solar plexus. That night on the lake, I felt my entire being relax into happiness. For that hour and a half, joy was alive in me. I can still feel it whenever I pause to remember Lake Travis at sunset.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hi, I’m Debbie Zapata, LCSW, a counselor and picture book author who loves telling heartfelt, humorous stories about ordinary people doing extraordinary things. I’m a fifth-generation Texan and proud Austinite, shaped by my multicultural background and a lively family. As a kid, I could often be found running around Austin’s parks, getting lost in library stacks, or mailing letters to pen pals across the world. Even back then, I was chasing connection through words, something that still guides my writing today.
My upcoming picture book, “Isabel’s Birthday Surprise” (Magination Press, 2025), will be released this October. It’s a story about hoping all of one’s birthday wishes come true. “Abuela’s Letter” (Magination Press, 2024), which explores loss and love in a Latin family, was named a 2025 NCTE Charlotte Huck Award Recommended Book. My debut, “Up and Adam” (Kids Can Press, 2022), about a boy with Down syndrome who helps his community after a storm, was a finalist for the Texas Institute of Letters Brigid Erin Flynn Award. I also have an upcoming biography, “A Taxi for Everyone: How Roy Velasquez Fought for Equality” (Little Bee Books, 2026), about the founder of Austin’s Roy’s Taxi.
As a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, I bring a deep understanding of emotional development to my writing. I aim to inspire kindness, foster connection, and help children feel seen and valued. Beyond writing, I share my work at schools, libraries, bookstores, and events like the Texas Book Festival. I also mentor aspiring authors. In my free time, you’ll find me exploring Austin’s trails or enjoying live music and dance performances.
Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What’s a moment that really shaped how you see the world?
A moment that shaped how I see the world wasn’t just one event—it was a collection of impressions I absorbed as a child. I learned early that everyone has a story, and those stories come in many forms. Sometimes words aren’t enough—sometimes it’s music, paint, or stitches on fabric. Acts of creation often speak louder than words and leave lasting impressions.
My family showed me this firsthand. My grandmother played the piano and taught herself how to paint. My grandfather wrote vivid reflections about growing up on a farm and serving in the Navy. My father loved music and spent years learning guitar. My mother wrote poetry, drew, and embroidered flowers on her denim, literally turning art into everyday life. Creativity was just how we expressed ourselves.
Following that path felt natural. I wrote poems and songs, and by middle school, I started journaling—a habit I still keep today. Those early routines ground me as a published author, creating my own stories and helping others, especially clients on the spectrum, find their voice through writing.
Being a counselor comes from those same roots: noticing that people communicate beyond words, and helping them nurture that expression. Being a mom has deepened that understanding—my child inspired my debut picture book about a protagonist with Down syndrome and reminds me that every child’s story deserves to be shared. Creating, for me, is both human and essential. It connects the past to the future, personal stories to the broader world, leaving behind more understanding, joy, and connection.
Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
There have been many moments when I wondered whether I should give up. In those times, I ask myself: What do you really want to happen? If it’s not happening now, I remind myself to wait. Sometimes a younger version of me desired something my current self no longer needs or has already experienced—and it’s okay to let go of those dreams, feel satisfied, and move on to the next adventure.
I started writing later in life, shaped by experiences that strengthened me. One of the most influential was moving to New York City for what I believed was my dream job—only to experience 9/11 four months later. That tragedy pushed me to earn a second master’s degree in social work at NYU, driven by a determination to help others. Years later, my dad’s passing motivated me to share the stories that felt meaningful to me.
Writing has many challenges. There are so many nos. A critique partner, teacher, or mentor will say a story isn’t working yet. An agent may send encouraging rejections, wishing you luck. Even after signing with an agent, there are many more nos. A writer will hear no more from editors than yes, but I’ve come to see them as passes, each one leading closer to the right home for a story.
When doubt arises, I turn to practices from Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way,” especially Artist Dates, which help me to reconnect with my creative self. I also think of Rilke’s words in “Letters to a Young Poet”: If you must write, then you are a writer. That reminder always motivates me. Along the way, I’ve also learned to separate the creative self from the business of publishing, finding joy in other outlets like cooking or crochet.
Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What would your closest friends say really matters to you?
My friends would probably say I care most about bringing people together—whether through stories, conversations, or even baking. I love those small moments when someone sees something in a new way or when a group suddenly feels connected. That’s why I’m the one who organizes my eighth-grade class reunions. I’ve maintained close friendships since elementary school, and decades later, we still pick up right where we left off.
I’m also a bit of a memory keeper. I save old tickets and mix tapes from the ’80s, and when I traveled for work, I collected magnets and postcards. On Mother’s Day, instead of gift-giving, my tradition is to take photos together.
I’d much rather live thirty different years than repeat the same year thirty times, so I try to embrace new experiences. Sometimes it’s a once-in-a-lifetime adventure like a hot air balloon ride, and other times it’s as simple as a road trip through the Hill Country or dropping off homemade black and white cookies at a friend’s house.
Simple acts of kindness truly brighten my day—both giving and receiving. I incorporated that belief into my debut picture book, “Up and Adam,” because kindness doesn’t have to be grand to make a difference. It can be as easy as helping a neighbor, checking in with a friend, or remembering the small things that bring a smile. At heart, I cherish connection, whether it’s saving a note from the past, creating something for the present, or planning the next adventure.
Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. When do you feel most at peace?
I feel most at peace when I reconnect with my heart and return to myself—a practice I aim to return to often. Sometimes that happens after a great yoga class with a favorite teacher, when I leave feeling both grounded and open. Other times, it’s a walk along Town Lake or an artist date at Mozart’s Café with my notebook and an iced latte, letting myself write freely while soaking in the view. These moments I look forward to repeating.
Peace also arrives when I’m traveling alone, with the windows down and music up, listening to favorite artists like Lyle Lovett, Linda Ronstadt, Spoon, Japanese Breakfast, or Willie Nelson. There’s something about those drives that makes me feel both present and connected to my true self. A spring wildflower drive through Willow City Loop, especially if it ends with a hike up Enchanted Rock, feels like the most genuine full-circle moment—where past and present intertwine, surrounded by beauty, gratitude, and contentment.
I’ve come to see peace not as the absence of stress, but as a return to balance. For me, it’s found in rhythms—movement and stillness, sound and silence, creating and simply being. Each one reminds me that peace isn’t something to chase; it’s something to notice, nurture, and return to again and again.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://debbiezapata.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/debbiezapata.author/
