My journey as a self-published author.

I did not take the decision to go down the self-publishing route lightly. After trying and failing to get the attention of literary agents through my many cover letters, Humebeasts still could not find a home in the traditional publishing houses. While attending the London Book fair in 2022, I actively began to search for alternative publishing methods. I had come across a book series written by David Gaughran that detailed how to self-publish one’s novels. I found it an incredibly useful tool to have. Yet, I was still hesitant to go for that route, as I was unconvinced that my book was ready for publication, even in self-pub form. 

 

Later that year, one of my friends told me it was high time to stop waiting around. After all, it was around 2011 that I first began writing Humebeasts (with a few pauses here and there), and the book was just sitting there, waiting to be seen by people. She told me I had to get it published by next autumn, a year later, no more no less. 

 

Then in early 2023, my grandmother passed away. It was the shock I needed to actually create and finish something in my life for everyone to see. And so for the next six months I was hard at work both researching the tools I needed to get my book out there, + giving my manuscript a rigorous, thorough edit. 

 

This was when I made my few first mistakes. 

 

It wasn’t just a question of opening an account on Kindle Direct Publishing and uploading my manuscript. There were many other factors I had to consider in order to be successful. I had not just chosen KDP, but also Draft2Digital, a relatively new self-pub platform that branched out to many online bookstores such as Apple, Kobo, Barnes and Nobel and Smashwords. Although the business site would branch out to many other outlets and sell to more stores, it also presented the problem of not being able to sell to Kindle Unlimited, where people who subscribed to it could get endless E-books for free. As their policy dictates that I wasn’t allowed to sell my book anywhere else. 

 

The second mistake was not exploring my resources for a decent copy editor. I hired the “editor” on the website Fiverr, where I also hired people for the cover of the book, beta readers, promotional videos and character designs. This person not only clearly did not speak English, but also left many, many errors unchecked in the manuscript, that I had to correct myself.

 

When the book was finally published, after creating both the accounts on Draft2Digital and Kindle Direct Publishing, I was ecstatic. I was also hard at work on the promotional side of the publication. I had to do it all. And I had to do it well. But in the end, it was the word of mouth that got the most sales out of the book. 

 

It wasn’t until September that my mother informed me that there were typos in the manuscript. I was mortified. People had read the book with all the typos on all these celebrated apps. I went back and tried to correct the manuscript as much as I could, with my mother’s help. And I decided to publish it on paperback by October 2023, setting myself a deadline. While I was in Fribourg for an Irish Literary festival, I discovered to my horror that the back of the book cover, from the designer that created the front cover, was incompatable with the margins of the paperback version, due to the position of the barcode. With a heavy heart, I abandoned the back cover (which can be seen on my Facebook page) and opted for a simple black background with the blurb, author bio and my picture. 

 

Along the way, due to my naivety and my unrelenting enthusiasm to share my hard-gotten work to the world, I had been a victim of scammers targeting new authors. They were by social media users who promised to feature me on podcasts, interviews and magazines - that that never came into fruition. To learn more about this, check out the blog Writer Beware. https://writerbeware.blog/

 

The second time I published Humebeasts, I set up a more elaborate promotion schedule. Two interviews, plus a few videos and several social media posts. 

 

My ability to sell myself, as well as marketing, are unfortunately skills that I not only had to learn myself, but have severe lack of experience with. Some folks are naturally very good at it. They thrive off putting themselves out there, selling their brand with vigerous joy, complete with cool puns, heartfelt reels and deep passion for the subjects they have written about. 

 

I’m sadly not one of them. 

 

Of course writing passionately and letting everyone know about it is something that I absolutely love doing and that I’ll never stop doing. 

Having my work to show everyone gives me more satisfaction and confidence that I could actually do this and not stop. Although I do have a few regrets as to how I went about the editing and subsequent promotion of Humebeasts after I first published it in June 2023, I'm incredibly proud and happy with the work that I have achieved. Despite it not doing well in the sales at all since its publication, it is still out there for fans of science-fiction, YA and music novels out there. 

I am now hard at work on my new novel, in a completely different genre, currently titled Of Sapphires and Moonlight. During the Jericho London Writing Festival, I met up for a total of ten minutes with a literary agent called Kemi Ogunsanwo, who was well versed in both science fiction and fantasy. She informed me that my voice was strong and worth paying attention to. It gave me the confidence to focus solely on this particular novel, and also made me realise that this would challenge me more as a writer. Despite still aiming for a YA audience, I want to make this new novel more mature, sexy, violent and epic.

I also went to another Faber Academy course in August in London this year. Which was really inspiring and informative on both the subject of writing the lives of women, and also discovering new and exciting voices of female writers. The tutor of the course told us that the most important aspect of writing was not in trying to make it perfect, but to rewrite, brainstorm and try different ways to tell the story that you want. 

If there's one thing for certain, is that writers don't just write. They re-write. And they do it again and again, without making it perfect, but simply the best story they can try to present. 

Buy Humebeasts from these platforms on my website: 

https://www.lisamunozwrites.com/

Trip to Disneyland Paris

 

The dream started off as a result of me watching an episode of Bad Sisters, an Irish series about a group of sisters plotting to kill their abusive, controlling man baby of a brother in law. The other result was of me hate reading some articles on Autostraddle, a website I have a love hate relationship with. 

I was in my grandmothers house, with my grandfather still present. I walk in my family casually watching a film with Jennifer Aniston. She confronts a conman who took advantage of her family and he responded by backhanding her, leaving a bloody wound on her forehead. I go upstairs and start hitting myself, angry that there was no warning. My grandfather caught me and asked why I was hitting myself with a hairbrush. 

In the same room, I was on a date with a trans man, Jason, formally Amelie, the butch girl I used to date. And I was very self conscious about the bruising on my face. But Jason didn’t seem to notice. I exchange numbers with him, noticing that his name is not the same as his Facebook profile.

9:02

I’m on the train on my way to Disneyland. I’m excited but also very tired. There is a reason I insist on trying to get back to sleep after his nibs, AKA my cat Inky, taps me awake at around 6 or 7 every morning with his razor tipped claws. The train ride is peaceful in first class, and the silence is uninterrupted apart from the pit stops. Usually decks would be filled with screaming and crying children, enough to grate firmly on one’s nerves.

I am often anxious and depressed, which I am forced to quench with bottles of rum and coke a couple of times every week. I think about attending Alcoholics Anonymous, but apart from being hungover for work, tired out and craving junk food, I don’t see it being a big enough reason to attend the meetings. 

There are other factors in my binge drinking that are more troublesome: the self harm. Scratches, slaps, punches, cutting and using my hands as toys for Inky to use. 

The pains of growing older, the struggles of my autism, the difficult navigation being queer in a world that is slowly but surely drifting away from its initial comfort has left a bitterness in my chest that leaves me deeply, deeply unhappy.

So with that in mind, trips away from home, and this one especially, is sorely needed. 

I am able to leave my kitty with my fellow pet sitters, and not have to worry about whether or not he’s gobbled up a piece of plastic. Twice he has had to be taken to hospital to remove the unwanted objects from his stomach. The first operation one being the most expensive, given his consumption of plastic knobs from his toys had accumulated over time.

He’s currently a little annoyed at my absences, complaining loudly at me viewing a Netflix show rather than playing with him. The problem is, he is often bored by the activity of the toy, and is only active after a meal or a trip to the litter box.

Cats are demanding, fickle creatures, and mine is scared and shy of newcomers in my apartment.

But I don’t believe I’ve loved something as much as I’ve loved this little fellow.  Thinking of it being any other way is agonizing. I paid 300 Swiss francs for him to be delivered and it was the best 300 I ever spent. Initially, my mother was horrified that I would have to pay that much for a little kitten, worried I was getting scammed. But it turned out the first batch Inky’s mother’s kittens had been given away for free, and the owner discovered that one of the kittens was severely neglected due to the woman being an alcoholic. She decided that if a value would be placed on these new kittens, people would make the effort to really take care of them. 

It also turned out that Inky’s pica, the condition in which animals and some humans eat indigestible objects out of stress or something else, is heredity. The mother also had to be taken to the vets for the same thing. 

The trip took a rocky start when, starved and light-head, and rushed off my feet, forgot my case just as I passed the ticket gates, forcing me to go back through another guy exiting, retrieved it and buy another ticket. 

Had my mother and I simply stopped over for a small lunch, got our heads screwed on, and then went hunting for the RER machines, the near crises would have been avoided. If I were here alone, that is exactly what I would have done.

When we finally get there, it is every bit as phenomenal as I thought. The room wasn’t ready yet so we decided to head to the Disney studios.

My mum and I went on the on the flying carpet ride, one of the few she could really stomach go on, and the carpet didn’t even fly up high like the others. 

I managed to go on several rides and make the most of it, including riding the new Avengers roller coaster, Flight Force. Formally the Aerosmith roller coaster. 

It was intensely thrilling and I got a buzz off it.

I am still drinking still a bit, but no more than two per meal. The thrill I get from the rhum and music I get here, in the parks, and on the rides. It’s a strange, yet wondrous feeling.

Attending a theme park is an escape from the horrors of the world. The night before, as we settled down to watch Ratatouille, mum told me not take what we had for granted as the hotel we were staying was proper luxury. I couldn’t help but feel that doubt whether I deserve it or not. It was all paid by mum after all. But it was a birthday present.

Day 2

A big part of the park is queuing queuing queuing. And sometimes you can queue only for the ride to break down just as you’ve reached the end of the line. In the case of Crush’s Coaster, which given the ride being associated with the ever popular Finding Nemo, is always the longest queue of them all.

Still, safety first is paramount. And sadly, safety measures are written in blood. As somewhere sometime in the past, there have been mutilations and deaths

Indeed big thunder mountain, an outside roller coaster shaped like a train, zig-zagging inside and outside of a man made mounting at extreme speed. 

The mood here is thoroughly jolly. Families dancing in the street, giggling in delight, outside and inside the park. It truly is like being in a Disney film. 

Mum is not feeling well. She is faint and her stomach is incredibly queasy, which makes her shut her eyes at the Star Tours ride. She had been feeling off and on on our recent trips due to the things she ate or drank.

I quickly notice a queue piling up outside Hyperspace Mountain, formally space mountain but re-designed as a Star Wars ride. Many of the famous rides go through redesigns in order to include new characters. Star Tours featured C3PO guiding us though instead of a random robot, and also featured an appearance from Dark Vader. HyperSpace Mountain was closed up until that point and I rush in to join the line. The disappointment of not having gone on Crush's Coaster is eviserated after I manage to only wait less than 25 min to get on, which is not long to wait for a ride like this. 

There are some rides I will not go on. Peter Pan's flight is out of the question as, like Crush's Coaster, is a long wait in the queue. Only this is no roller coaster, but only a mild ride in a box that only lasts about a minute. The Hollywood Tower of Terror is not a roller coaster, but a giant elevator that you get strapped on and fall from a great height. I had done something similar with Toy Story's parachute drop, but I don't have to wait as long, and it's outside. 

Then there is the Haunted Mansion. I was obsessed with the place since a young age and I loved it every I went on it. Its horror themes and creepy animatronics fascinated and frightened me as a child. The reason I don't go on it this time around, is because I am kind of exhausted by its concept at that point. I had watched the Muppets Haunted Mansion special on Disney+, and I found it to be a bit meh. The magic for me had gone, as I knew the ride by heart. Even though I had gone on several other rides many times before, if I had to skip one ride to go another, this would be it.

At night, after a long, tired day of walking, mum and I kick off our shoes and relax until we want to go out for dinner. I take advantage of the hotel pool and go for a swim. During dinner and drinks, mum quizzes me about the psychiatrist I'm now seeing. Then the conversation turns to my Aspergers, which I'm always uncomfortable talking about to her, as she knows all the less than perfect shenanigans I did when I was a child.

Day 3

We go back to the Studios to visit places we hadn't gone on before, and I myself have another go on Avengers Flight Force. As well as the redesigned train ride which at one point was meant to show how movie stunts were co-ordinated, a well as famous props from movies. Now it was renamed Cars Road Trip, after the Pixar movies.

Several re-designed rides, in order to incorporate known characters from both Star Wars and Disney films, works for the better, such as Star Tours. Others such as Cars Road Trip, not so much. A good part of the excitement of Disney Studios is being shown how stunts are created. Those attractions have now been replaced by other Disney characters telling stories, which doesn't do well in their favour. 

We make one last stop at the Disneyland Park to go on the last few attractions before heading back to the hotel to retrieve our bags and head to the station. We mount attractions such as the Molly Brown cruise in Frontier land, a ride on a Buzz Lightyear laser tag and pay a visit to Fantasyland, which I didn't really get to visit that much. Pinnochio's voyage and the dragon's den inside the castle is something I want to visit, but sadly there isn't enough time. Mum is always paranoid about missing appointments or plane or train rides, so we get end up arriving at the destinations at ridiculously early hours.

**********************

Overall, it was one of the best holidays I've had in a very long time. And it was nice to know that despite having depression, anxiety and any all other forms of mental illness, I could be happy for a few days in what's known as one of the happiest places in Europe. And that fills me with hope. 

:)

Will Smith: From fangirl to reluctant re-ignited interest.

It has been quite the year for Will Smith. In addition to his award-poised film King Richard, he has released an autobiography, one Youtube series tie in called Best Shape of My Life and a Disney + series Welcome to Earth, about the wonders of planet earth. 

Here is the thing about Will Smith. 

I’ve been a fan of his since I was a teen. It started with the Dreamworks animated film Shark Tale in 2004, and remember being blown away by it and counting the days until I could rent it on DVD. Thanks to that film and its various references to mafia movies, I discovered many other gems such as Goodfellas, Carlito's Way, Scarface and all the other Robert DeNiro and Martin Scorsese movies. 

I was aware of Smith since I saw Independence Day in the late nineties. My father had a VHS copy of it. After watching Shark Tale, I started researching Smith’s movies and I came to adore his work. I loved how sensitive he was and I loved his gusto, swagger and charisma. And for quite a while, I consumed all of his content as I do with Benedict Cumberbatch, my current celeb obsession (8 years to be exact lol)

Then came 2008. 

He had two movies come out that year. Hancock & Seven Pounds. I really enjoyed both of them. But then he didn’t work for four years. At the time, he said that he wanted to get into politics, but that didn’t seem to come about. I had no idea why he took a break and I heard rumours it was because his film Seven Pounds was badly received and he had expected an Oscar nomination. 

It turned out he was essentially being a stay at home dad while his wife Jada Pinkett Smith worked on her own movies and production companies and series.

So he was absent for four years. Then he made the second sequel to Men in Black, which I found to be completely useless, though it was a better film than the first sequel by a long shot - owing mostly to Josh Brolin’s performance as the younger Agent K. 

Then there was After Earth. Oh boy.

I’ve never seen the film, and I don’t plan to. Apparently Smith was responsible for much of the writing and directing on the film, M Night Shyamalan being credited as the helmer. There was a lot of influence in the script from the teachings of Scientology - which, if you’ve done your research on, is an abusive cult with a lot of power.

The film bombed super hard and it left Smith depressed. He also admitted that around this time, his marriage to Jada Pinkett was on the brink of ruin. 

He subsequently appeared in a cameo as the devil, named The Judge, in Winter’s Tale, but it just didn’t work. To play the devil, you need two things. One is charisma, that Smith absolutely has, and the other is the ability to scare the shit out of people, which he doesn’t have. 

Then came Suicide Squad and this time, he made a different choice in his roles. He plays one of the bad guys- a hitman named Deadshot. This was a step in the right direction. Playing someone who was very different than him, and whose morals didn’t aline with his. Sadly the film was terrible, despite its stellar casting and brilliant anti-heroes. 

In 2016 that year, he played the real life Nigerian pathologist Bennet Omalu, who becomes a whistleblower to the covering up of the damage done to NFL players when they repeatedly collide against eachother. 

This film was actually good, but nothing really special, as I was reminded too much of the anti tobacco film The Insider (which funnily enough is mentioned in the movie)

Smith was brilliant in it despite his shaky Nigerian accent. He said he was reluctant to take on the role as he and his family were big NFL fans and the film portrays the multi billion institution negatively.  He was nominated for a Golden Globe that year but not an Oscar, and he boycotted said ceremony along with several others due to the #OscarsSoWhite controversy. Which I found to be a little immature on on his part, since the Academy Awards that year weren’t as white as people claimed. Many people of colour won that year, just not in the acting categories.

He then starred in a film called Bright, where he plays an asshole cop in a fantasy world full of elves, orcs and magic wands. And the same year, Collateral Beauty - where he plays a grieving father who writes letters to Love, Time and Death.

Trust me when I say that Suicide Squad is a masterpiece compared to these two films. Bright has all of the bad decisions a fantasy film should make while Collateral Beauty appears to justify the psychological torture of a broken, grieving man as well as gaslighting. It was also cringingly melodramatic to the point that it actually made people laugh unintentionally rather than cry. 

I was beyond disappointed with how bad these two films were and I lost faith in his decisions as an actor. 

But Will then did something even braver than playing a bad guy - he took on the role of the Genie in the live action remake of Aladdin. This character was made famous by the late great Robin Williams. It was created for him and he became that character. So in order to take on that role in the remake, Smith would have to play himself. 

Which he did. Like a lot of the Disney live action remakes, this film fails in comparison to its animated counter part. Smith, however, managed to be the only thing in the movie that sparked energy and smiles. It must not have been easy bearing all of the weight of Robin William’s legacy on his shoulders. 

Two other movies came out after that that I skipped: Gemini Man and Spies in Disguise. I did however watch Bad Boys III in the cinemas, one of the few ones I actually got to see in theatres in 2020. And I enjoyed it. Mostly because I was relieved that Michael Bay wasn’t going to direct it. There are some jokes and situations in the first two movies, especially the second one, that are unforgivably bad. 

And now we come to King Richard, in which he stars in a biopic of Venus and Serena Williams’s father Richard, telling the story of how the two tennis champions started out and the struggles their father went through to lead them to success. 

After premiering at Telluride, there was an outpour of praise for Smith’s performance, calling it the best of his career and sure to win him his first Oscar. He was nominated in 2001 for playing Muhammed Ali in Michael man’s biopic Ali and for playing Chris Gardner in The Pursuit of Happyness. 

What I really wanted to see from this performance is once again something different. A flawed character with charisma. And it delivered. He captuured all the nuances, the flaws and the empowering moments of the character brilliantly. Not only is he great in it, the film is great too. And I’ve been waiting so long for Will Smith to be good in a film that is well written and directed.

My favorite scenes are actually when he gets confronted and called out for his overbearing, controlling attitude towards his children, especially the peanut butter sandwich scene with his wife Brandy. It’s here that we find out that he’s not the saint that his children and the audience thought. He has had several other children besides his daughters with Brandy. When he pushes her too far, she refuses to stay quiet - but remains on his side. Later he goes to his daughter and tells her a story about how, as a young teen, he was beaten in a racist attack for touching a white man accidentally. And he saw his father run away from him. He breaks down in tears saying that he’ll never do the same to Venus. 

I won’t lie, I was sobbing during this scene. It reminded me of my own father, how he wasn’t really too present in my life and he’s no longer with us.

The film won me over in that regard. But it sadly did not erase all of the other disappointments in his filmography. 

Now to his memoir, released at the same time as not one but two of his docu series Best Shape Of My Life and Welcome To Earth (ironically named after one of his lines from Independence Day)

And I have to say, I and many others out there know more about him, his wife and his family than I would probably have cared to know. Mostly because excepts of his various crazy sexcapades went viral online. 

The strongest parts are definitely in the beginning. His childhood was rough, growing up with an abusive, controlling father who regularly beat his mother and the children and was a control freak with the way he handled family life. 

Such was the way for many low income families back then. Will talks about how he used to comedy to not only gain sympathy but also survive. He labels himself a coward for not protecting his mother and other people from harm. 

There are also sections in which he contemplates the relationships he has with different people in his life - from his girlfriends, his wives, his father and other well known figures such as Nelson Mandela, James Avery and Muhammad Ali.

There are quite a few important details of his life and career that are missing. One of course is the Janet Hubert debacle. Hubert played Aunt Janice on The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, and was one of the reasons the show was so popular. During the third season however, she was pregnant and was going through a difficult time. She didn’t laugh at Will’s jokes and Will at the time was extremely immature and insecure. He went on to call her a difficult diva in the press. He didn’t realise the implications of what that could do to a woman like Janet, a dark-skinned woman in Hollywood at the time. She literally lost everything. Her family disowned her, Hollywood blackballed her. She had just gotten out of a very abusive marriage and had a newborn baby. She was completely alone. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for her. She was a talented Broadway actress on her own with no one to support her. While he became one of the biggest movie stars on the planet. Not a good look.

There are also many films that he worked on that I would have liked a bit more insight on, such as refusing to kiss Anthony Michael Hall in Six Degrees of Separation out of fear of what the black community would think of him kissing another man on the lips. Or playing a doctor who whistle blew on the NFL when they covered up life-threatening head injuries of their players. He doesn’t really go into the social issues surrounding him or the films he’d been a part of. Or how other people are really feeling. Except when it directly affects him and when his family and friends confront him about it.

Then there is the Scientology school he and Jada set up in California that went bust. Though it’s clear that Will and Jada aren’t actual Scientologists, they were affiliated with it at some point. He was good friends with Tom Cruise after all, and even had Cruise’s adopted son play the younger version of Will’s character in Seven Pounds. After watching several documentaries and documentary series on the matter, and seeing the horrific practices they enforce on people and their families, it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth that he and Jada see it as a religion and not for what it really is: a cult. There is a moment in Leah Remini’s book Troublemaker in which she recalls the Smiths attending a party held by Tom Cruise - and Cruise insisted all of them, all grown adults, to play a game of hide and seek. Very weird. And it makes me uncomfortable that he doesn’t address it. 

Despite hating abuse against women due to what he witnessed in childhood, he not only doesn’t recognise feminism for what it is, or realise how it affects black women, he also engaged in chauvinistic behaviour in his youth, and continues to make questionable remarks about women both in this book and in real life.

In a few chapters, I was also put off by the amount of times he mentioned how much money each of his films made. Nothing about his co stars, his craft or the directors (apart from a select few such as Michael Mann, Gabriele Muccino and Stephen Spielberg). 

It’s clear that he’s a flawed guy who is really just trying his best. But he also wants be the best at everything (something I noticed in his docuseries best shape of my life) and that is impossible. 

He talks about how as a black man in Hollywood he felt he had to be super successful and chose all the right roles in order to be the perfect role model - or at least be super accessible to white audiences. He admits that he is an adrenaline junkie - incapable of sitting down and enjoying himself, due to what’s happened to him in his past.

It was definitely an interesting read, but I wanted a bit more from this memoir. Maybe in the future he’ll write another one and fill in some gaps.

With these two docuseries and the memoir, I feel that although I see an interesting, flawed yet very human character in Will Smith, it kind of cheapens the characters that he plays on screen. Because they all inhabit some force, a desire, a memory or a person in his life that we already know very well thanks to him revealing all of his secrets. Although that’s what a lot of actors do, most of them keep it private. and want to focus on the message and the story they are telling. 

Knowing so much about Will and Jada’s private lives and then watching them perform on screen is like opening a present on Christmas Day that is no longer a surprise. 

My 15 year old self loved Shark Tale and loved Will Smith. And when you’re that age you don’t really care what your fave does, as long as he entertains you. And while it maybe too late for him to be the ultimate role model for me now, a comeback that is both inspiring and tear-jerking will always be welcome in my books.

Despite rooting for Benedict Cumberbatch at the 2022 Oscars to win Best Actor for The Power of the Dog, I would ultimately accept that he deserved to win for King Richard. 

But then the slap happened. 

During an opening monologue for Best Documentary, stand up comedian Chris Rock poked fun at Jada’s haircut, calling her G.I Jane, possibly unaware that the actress suffered from alopecia. Will at first was seen laughing at the joke, but when he saw how upset Jada was, things escalated quickly. 

And I mean quickly.

He walked up to Rock and violently slapped him across the face, before calmly returning to his seat. Rock pulled it together, saying in surprise “Will just slapped the shit out of me!”

People thought it was staged - until Will screamed loudly twice from his seat “Keep my wife’s name out of your fucking mouth!’

What followed was the most still, deadly silence ever, with tension that could be cut with a knife. He later went on to win Best Actor for his role in King Richard. In a teary speech, he apologised to the Academy and his fellow nominees, but then went on to justify his actions, saying “love can make you do crazy things.”

There was so much irony in that action - that Benedict Cumberbatch, who played a nasty, mean, abusive and toxic character in a film about the deconstruction of toxic masculinity, would lose to a man who on the night of the Oscars, displayed immense amount of toxic masculinity, and was cheered for it. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d slapped someone. He slapped and punched Charlize Theron by accident on two separate occasions. Both times was when he worked with her on the films Bagger Vance and Hancock. The second time he appeared to blame her for the incident when she didn’t perform the blocking right, and played it down to "two kids messing around on the playground." 

It told me three things: One was that he still hasn’t handled his issues with his marriage. Two that he’s still the entitled man-child who hasn’t yet grown up, and who doesn't think about what the consequences of his actions would have on other people. And three, that he still feels he needs to control those around him.

He had based his character Richard Williams (the caring yet infuriatingly controlling egomaniac), on his own father, the abusive tyrant. As well as himself. His unfortunate clinging on to his father’s approval, and defending his actions, no matter how horrible they were, is concerning.

In perhaps the same way that in the film, Richard stops his daughter Venus from training and turning pro, as well as adding pressure and promoting his own ego, Will defended his wife’s honour by committing violence against another person who dissed her. 

His version of love and his notion of what a man needs to be, is sadly very skewered and misplaced.

What should have been a lifetime achievement for him, turned out to be an embarrassing display of egotism and lack of self control. 

Denzel Washington told him after the incident that “At your highest moment, be careful. That’s when the devil comes for you. ”

Hm. If Mr Washington had such skills in foresight, maybe he should have told him beforehand?

Chris Rock may have been the recipient of the assault, but Will will have to contend with this incident for the rest of his life. 

A sad end to a legacy, indeed. 

"The Boys" series review

  WARNING: SPOILERS

I am a huge Marvel fan. And over the years, I’ve immersed myself in the many films and TV series of the MCU. They are total escapism most of the time, but also do not shy away from important themes, such as grief, rage, race, sexism, good vs evil, responsibilty and collateral damage.

 

If I had to pick a favourite scene from any of the MCU movies, it would have to be the Sokovia Accords debate in Captain America Civil War. In the film, the Avengers, while chasing down bad guys, cause an explosion in Lagos that kills several civilians. The United Nations then decide to impose a sanction on the super-heroes by making them sign the Sokovia Accords – a paper that signals where and when they should go to work. Lagos is the latest in their casualties, Sokovia (in Avengers Age of Ultron) being the worst. But not all of them are in agreement, thus creating a “civil war” after Captain America’s friend Bucky is once again brainwashed into doing nasty deeds. 

 

This was the first time a super-hero movie properly addressed collateral damage to both civilians and buildings full of people. And the danger that super-heroes could impose in the real world. 

 

Civil War only scratched the surface of that idea. 

 

Amazon’s The Boys dives into it full throttle. 

 

Litterarly.

 

The series opens with two super-heroes, Queen Maeve and Homelander stopping a group of robbers, before taking selfies with fans. Then it cuts to one of our main protagonists, Hughie Campell, being surprised by his girlfriend Robin at the store where he works. They have a loving conversation outside, with him holding her hands. 

 

That’s when his world his completely shattered and torn apart, when a super fast hero, A-Train (parodying The Flash) runs into Robin at his full speed.

 

And she explodes into blood, bone and gore, leaving poor Hughie completely traumatized and  still holding the dismembered hands of his girlfriend. 

 

And that is the inciting incident of The Boys. 

 

Hughie is soon recruited by a man called Billy Butcher, a shady, vengeful Englishman hell bent on taking down the “supes”, people with super-human abilities, namely the ones at the very top.

 

A, Train, Homelander and Queen Maeve are part of a team of “Supes” called The Seven, and they are owned by a massive corporation called Vaught, run by cold, self-serving sycophanths whose goal is to boost the Supe’s ego, make merchandise, movies and eventually move them into the military. The top Supe is Homelander, a sociopathic, sadistic narcasist who will do any thing to keep his image of the perfect poster boy for America – including letting a plane full of civilians die and threatening anyone closest to him with death when they overstep their “boundries”.

He is also the one Billy Butcher is after, since years earlier, Homelander raped his wife Becca and caused her to flee, never to be seen again. 

Starlight, the newest recruit to the team, is delighted when she gets to be a part of the Seven’s world and save people. But those hopes are woefully shattered when she is sexually assaulted by The Deep (a parody of Aquaman) and that the Seven’s image is more important than actually saving lives. 

 

 

Pretty much everyone except for Starlight in the Seven is a terrible human being in some way or another. But Homelander is the worst since he is the leader of the Seven and pretty much runs the whole show. 

Despite this, the rest of the Supes have relatable qualities. A Train is a reckless drug addict who brags about killing Robin to another supe, but he is like this because of his obsession with winning and his crippling addiction to Compound V – a drug that gives people their super powers. As for The Deep, you start off by hating him and then end up pitying him – since he is both a pathetic joke as a human being, and as a super hero who cares deeply for the ocean, but fails miserably to save its creatures. This is due to his disgust for his body – he has large gills on his stomach (in one hilarious scene, after taking LSD, he talks and sings with the gills).

 

Vaught represents the ultimate massive pharmaceutical company that expands beyond just kissing the ass of super-heroes and spoon feeding everyone bullshit about how brilliant they are. They have secretly been administrating compound V to infants in order to give them super powers,  with the consent of their parents through bribes. But they go even further by administrating it to adults – namely terrorists – in order to get super-heroes in the military. 

 

And if that wasn’t already deeply corrupt – the founder of the company, Fredirick Vaught, was a Nazi, who, back in the late 1930s, invented Compound V and was going to use it to create the ultimate army of super humans in order to take over the world and create a global fascist regime.

The second season involves a new recruit to the team called Stormfront, a sassy, if slightly insensitive woman. The Seven try to track down a super-terrorist, that just happens to be Kimiko's, the mute, female member of the Boys, brother. 

And in the third episode, while chasing down Kimiko's brother, Stormfront shockingly shows her true colours. She mercilessly murders many innocent people of colour, before torturing and killing the terrorist, calling him racial slurs. She then blames the murders on the terrorist. 

Homelander is angry about this. But not because she ruthlessly murdered black people, but because she robbed him of his opportunity to kill the terrorist himself. 

It turns out Stormfront is 100 year old nazi and the wife of Frederick Vaught. She was once known as Liberty in the 1970s, but disappeared after she was linked to a brutal hate crime. 

Highly sadistic, powerful and horribly evil, adding to her being a literal nazi makes her truly one of the most despicable villains on a show already teeming with rotten, bad people.   

And her beatdown by all of the super-powered heroines and defeat at the hands of a boy she wanted to turn into white supremacist in the last episode of season was intensely satisfying to watch.

 

"Girls do get it done." ;)

Aya Cash plays the character exeptionally well. So well in fact, that several people sent her hate mail for playing such a deeply awful character. I think this was out of line, especially considering the fact that Cash is Jewish herself, and portraying this character must have been incredibly difficult. 

The comics, which were written in the mid-2000s, are far more violent, unflinching and cynical. But I think what this adaptation does is not only bring the characters and the story more down to earth and three dimensional, but the changes made to the series feel relevant to things going on in the world. The #MeToo movement, racism and white supremacy, attitudes towards refugees, and bad behaviour normalised by powerful companies in order to keep their image and their money.

All in all, if you're looking for a superhero series that is something different, edgy, thematically powerful and R rated as hell, this is the one for you.

Oh, and there is also a reference to the Spice Girls which is absolute gold. 

Korina (a short story about suicide)

A chill went down my spine as screams and sobs filled the main office.

I knew the sound of that glass breaking would haunt all of us in the room for

the rest of our lives, like the shards pricking at our insides over and over.

We were on the eighth floor of the building. Several people peered out of

broken window to look down. Some stayed there, others recoiled in horror.

As though guided by an invisible rope, I glided towards the window. I was

shaking, but unafraid. My morbid curiosity always got the better of me. My

high-heels crunched the broken glass as I reached the window.

I stared ahead at the vast, cloudless sky. Then I looked down and saw her.

Korina, clad in her black jacket and pencil skirt, lay twisted on the ground,

blood pooling around her head, and, even from this height, I could see a

bone sticking out of her ankle.

Beads of sweat accumulated on my temple and neck. I collapsed on to a

nearby chair and wiped my forehead. I suddenly felt dehydrated and cold at

the same time.

Through the rest of the day I watched almost everyone at the office go

through some sort of meltdown. New sides to people I had worked with for

so long emerged. It was uncomfortable and frightening. The most

vulnerable, inner parts of people were on display. The tough guys cried, the

women were blubbering messes and the bosses were completely at odds at

what to do with everyone. I heard my boss say in a shaken voice to the

police that she had planned to get safety glass installed in all of the floors.

I tried to make myself useful by getting people coats and hot drinks for the

shock, hugging other co-workers to give them a little comfort and providing

the police with as much information as I could.

To work hard had always been my motto. Always being occupied was

essential. So when Claire told me to go home with everyone else in our

office, I was taken aback. This was not like her to send me home. She had

always revered my willingness to work overtime. But now, at only one in the

afternoon, she was insistent that I take the rest of the day off.

Throughout the drive home, the questions in my head doubled, tripled and

quadrupled. The main one that kept me up half the night was:

Why would Korina choose such a public and violent death, when things

seemed be going so well in her life?

A week later I arrived late and a little flustered at Cafe Bizarre. I could

already see my group settled with their drinks at the square table.

Ashley Kent, who appeared too shell-shocked to sip at her gin and tonic, and

Steve Prempton, a man I found irresistibly hot.

I brushed away my cat’s hairs from my coat and sat next to Steve. My face

flushed as his fingers accidentally brushed over my tights.

“She was so young,” said Ashley, dabbing her running nose with her napkin.

“I can’t even imagine what her parents must be going through.”

I hesitated for a moment and, plucking up my courage, opened my dry

mouth and said: “I wish I could have known her better. She always seemed

like a lovely woman. I mean….”

I struggled a bit. “Why would she do this? Did you guys know if she had

problems at home? Was it something to do with work?”

“How could it be work?” said Ashley, suddenly irritated. “In any case, we

shouldn’t go inquiring about her personal life. People do have a right to

privacy.”

I glowered at her, aghast.

“Ashley, Korina is dead!” I found myself shaking. “She threw herself out of

OUR office window. There has to be a reason for this and we should know

why.”

“I don’t want to know!” she said, bringing her tissue to her nose again.

“Well she wouldn’t do this unless she was pushed to the edge!”

“How do you know? You just said it yourself, you barely knew her.”

My hands balled into fists. She didn’t know Korina either.

Swallowing my anger, I asked as calmly as possible: “Do you know why she

did it?”

“I do.”

My heart leaped in my mouth as Steve, who was sweating profusely, spoke

the first words since I’d sat down. He swallowed, and said:

“Korina and I, well…”

An affair? Shock and indignation flushed my whole body. They were having

an affair.

All eyes were on him now. He looked down, licking his lips.

With each second he hesitated, my fury increased. When he started to fiddle

with his credit card, I exploded.

“Well WHAT?”

“It had been a few months back.” he said. “When we first started going out,

she was normal. She seemed happy. Then after a few weeks, she, er. She

started… acting strangely.”

I held my breath for a few seconds. A couple sat a few feet from us clinked

their glasses.

“She was always crying. She drank a lot. Whenever an animal appeared on

the screen of my television, she had to leave the room. I asked her what was

wrong, but she said she didn’t want to talk about it. But she finally came

clean and told me her dog had died. That’s why she never brought me to her

apartment again. The pain was too much. Then, um, two weeks ago she

asked Claire for some time off for mental exhaustion. But of course, it was

the start of the conference. There was just no way.”

I thought back on the lecture on the conference Claire had given us three

months before. She strictly forbade any of us to plan a vacation during this

time. Even interns had to be taken in to help us out.

My breathing increased as Steve continued.

“A few days later, she was drinking, heavily. I tried to talk to her, reason

with her, and get her to contact her parents. But she kept shutting me out.

Her heart was broken. It was almost like I wasn’t there.”

He paused. My heart drilled in my chest. My palms felt clammy. I’d had so

many fantasies of how he would be as a partner to me. Now I felt deeply

uncomfortable sitting alongside him.

“So you broke up with her.” I said.

“I thought I was doing the right thing. I even gave her a ring as a goodbye

gift.”

He stopped, unable to continue. He placed his hand over his mouth, his face

pale.

Ashley screeched her chair backwards and made a bolt for the bathroom.

He and I were both alone. The chatter around us sounded like a distant noise.

I tried to remember how Korina had been that day. Jittery, for sure. But she

had been like that for a month. Her composure was refined, her

conversations with everyone else were short and to the point. And she had

never really one for banter.

As I pictured her walking among the cubicles, I remembered one small detail

I had overlooked that day. She had kept looking out of that window and

trailing her knuckle across the glass in a circle. She was still keeping busy

with her computer and paperwork. But she kept returning to the window,

rotating her index finger at the center of it, as though wiping off a stain.

No one else paid attention to her. I certainly didn’t think anything of it.

But now it fell into place.

The ring, Steve’s little “parting gift”, and the office, where her boss forced

her to work hard despite her mental state: she was making a point. They

were the two things that exacerbated the agonizing grief for her dog - a

gorgeous little Cairn terrier, who, according to Korina, “loved everyone”.

I glared at Steve. He started to play with his credit card again.

I pictured him with her, unable to cope with her tears and drinking,

abandoning her in her most desperate hour, leaving behind only an

expensive ring for comfort.

Everyone had deserted her; her pride and joy, the sympathy of her boss and

the man she was going out with.

No person should ever have to cope with so much loss.

Tears prickling my eyes, I grabbed my bag and ran out of the bar.

Once I was alone in my car, the floodgates opened. For Korina, her family,

wherever they were, and even for her beloved Cairn.

I entered my apartment with Izzy mewing at my arrival. More tears fell

down as I ripped up his food pouch and dipped the saucy meat into his bowl.

I slipped off my high-heeled shoes, sat on the sofa and turned on the game

shows.

After watching the usual quiz for fifteen minutes, I felt a chill up my arms

and saw that I had left the window open.

Izzy came back into the room, licking his jaws as I got up and walked

towards the window.

The breeze was mild and the night was calm and silent. I breathed in the

fresh air.

Korina had not been silent. She’d spoken up about her problems. But no one

listened to her.

I closed the window and turned back to Izzy, who stared at me in a puzzling

sort of way.

I nestled back onto the couch and Izzy curled up next to me.

“Don’t worry,” I said, stroking my cat’s head as he squinted. “Korina won’t

be forgotten. This time tomorrow, everyone will know the truth.”