Why the heck am I writing a novel with Kim Kardashian as the protagonist?
Then I started reading Joyce Carol Oates’ novel. The film you see is a faithful adaptation of Oates’ book. If the film is offensive, it’s because the novel was meant to be. Both argue that sex symbols are products of meat factories.
Take, for instance, the scene where DiMaggio storms into the bedroom he shares with Marilyn, who is topless, and slaps her across the face while shouting, “You’re meat!” It’s not subtle — but why be subtle when examining celebrity?
From a commercial standpoint, the novel needs to resonate with Kanye’s fans first. They’re the ones who will actually read it, and there’s power in offending them — it generates the kind of buzz that spreads like wildfire through communities like Reddit. I also don’t believe Kim Kardashian fans read books.
Back in college, I outlined what a Kanye biopic might look like and called it “God & Monster,” based on a biography someone wrote. After jeen-yuhs, nobody’s interested in revisiting the “College Dropout” years. I would rather see Kanye live it on film, than watch Sterling K. Brown re-enact them. (Yeah, my preference is for Brown to play West. Alternatively, Kevin Hart is an option where the role demands something beyond anything he’s ever done. Who would direct this? Not my problem. I’m writing a novel.)
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