We define transportation as the series of processes,
meant to move and communicate.
Moving from point A to point B.
Point of origin and destination.
This story is set in Mexico, in the city of Guadalajara,
an industrial macro-region that, in the year 2000,
will have a population of up to 5 million people.
Five million people manage to move within a finite geographical area,
in adjacent directions, often opposite,
at risk of killing each other trying.
This thought haunted her.
How do five million people walk around,
knowing they could die on any corner?
Corina suffers from what science has classified as agoraphobia.
An inexplicable fear stopping her from crossing,
the small threshold she's locked herself behind.
Her whole universe is limited to the Americana neighborhood.
Specifically between Prisciliano Sánchez St. to the north,
Libertad St. to the south, and Venezuela and Argentina St.,
to the east and west, respectively.
Only four streets that have everything she might need.
Her house, Fer's grocery store,
and the newspaper she works at.
She might not go out into the world, but she can picture it.
Her book collection works as a portal,
to other worlds, landscapes, and realities.
Especially those by author Xareni Silverman.
Goodbye, Renée.
– Good morning, sweetie. – Morning.
Our Father, I call on Your name to protect Corina, and I ask You...
Wait a second.
Here it is.
– Let me fix you a plate. – No, thanks.
There you go.
Facing the outside world for the first time,
is usually the tensest moment of her day.
One, two, three, four...
Corina Rojas was born twenty-eight years ago,
the daughter of a librarian and a writer.
Her childhood went by just like everyone else's.
A christening, her first steps, pre-school, birthdays.
Birthday parties, eight birthdays.
Regular, conventional birthdays.
Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight,
twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three,
thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six...
Later things got... a bit tragic.
Forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six,
forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty,
fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three...
fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty,
sixty-one, sixty-two...
Renée never really liked leaving her home.
And she panicked after her husband's death,
we can't blame her,
she did the best she could with what she had and knew.
But fear, just like water, always ends up seeping in,
and in Renée's case, it became a flood.
No one really knows how Renée's world,
shrank into the four walls of her own home.
Conditioned by her mother's reality,
Corina's world slowly shrank as well.
One block to the north, one block to the south,
so Renée wouldn't lose sight of her.
Her curiosity towards the world,
was satisfied by the books her father left for her.
Sixty-three, sixty-four, sixty-five, sixty-six,
sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine...
FOR SALE
GROCERY STORE FRUIT SALADS SANDWICHES
Hello, Corina. The usual?
The problem with establishing a routine, is developing,
a natural distaste towards change.
Corina?
What can I get you today?
Carlos!
We're just branching out, Corina.
– I bought the shop next door. – We did.
We did.
This is Carlos, he's my cousin,
he's my new partner, he just got back from the US.
– He's a bricklayer. – I'm a construction worker, Fernanda.
He's a bricklayer, and he's getting used to the store.
If you ever come by and I'm in the back or went out,
Carlos has a great memory.
Corina always drinks a medium black coffee,
whole milk, with two packets of brown sugar.
Got it.
Are you alright, Corina?
We'll finish renovating soon.
Carlos is a really nice guy,
he's kind of noisy, but he's a nice guy.
We'll get used to this, you'll see.
Medium black coffee, whole milk,
with two packets of sugar.
– Brown sugar. – Very brown sugar.
"..."
Excuse me?
"..."
Renée wants a chai tea.
OK, I'll be right over.
Bye!
Is that her?
Yeah.
I see.
– Is the lunch meat any good? – That's not for you.
WELCOME TO THE BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE
– Good morning, Renée! – Busy morning?
Well...
not really, Renée.
There you go.
A chai tea, and this week's groceries.
God bless you.
– Be careful out there. – I will, Renée.
– Bye. – Bye.
Corina doesn't work for a big paper,
but at the Book Publishing department of a big paper.
For the love of God, Corina,
if you're not going to work upstairs, check your messages.
Hurry up! Lili's looking for you.
No, we're out on the 25th, that's a Friday.
We'll have a press conference,
and it will be available here, in Guadalajara.
Distribution starts on the 25th, but it's a rollout by region.
Jalisco gets them on the 25th and the 26th,
the Central Zone gets it next, Monday 27th at the latest.
Well, honey, you could've just asked,
but it's not my problem you're just assuming things...
I'm glad it sells, but we can't before the 27th.
The author is a mystery, honey, she barely responds to our emails.
Here's what we can do, if you pay for shipping,
I can ship 200 units to you, by plane on the morning of the 25th.
You'd be selling them by 5 o'clock.
Deal, let me transfer you to Sandrita,
she'll take your order.
Yeah. Bye, ciao. Kisses, bye.
– Is Rodrigo here yet, hun? – He's not picking up.
Tell him I need to see him down here ASAP.
Take those guys' order, from Chile.
– They'll pay for shipping, by plane. – Yes, Lili.
I really need to see Rodrigo, hun.
I'm on it, Liliana.
Don't sit,
I've got six seconds for you, are you finished?
I don't have time to read it, give it to Sandrita, she'll take it to Print.
I'll give you the next one for editing,
I'll definitely read this one, can you have it by Friday?
Are you sure? That's tomorrow.
It's “Duel of the Mighty Titans”.
I think... yeah.
One second please.
– I really need Rodrigo, hun. – He's here, Lili.
I'm right here, where's the fire?
There's no ending.
– What are you talking about? – “Resonance”.
– “Resonance”, the book? – Yes, the book called “Resonance”.
She just sent us the latest draft and the ending doesn't work,
it's pretentious, philosophical, snobbish,
tragic, gory, relentless,
her readers will hate it, it goes against,
what she's been building throughout the series, it's suicide.
– The character commits suicide? – For us, it would be suicide to publish it.
– We need to find her. – We've been sending emails, she won't respond.
She's under contract,
she's expected to deliver a manuscript,
to the satisfaction of her publishers, end of story.
You tell her that, see if the wind carries your message to her town,
and if it does, tell her to go fuck herself for me.
– Let me see it. – You have your own copy, where is it?
– Where's Rodrigo's copy, hun? – On his desk, Lili.
I told you.
“I told you,” she says.
Lili.
– I have Silverman on the phone. – Give it to me.
Xareni.
It's Felipa, I see, how are you?
Yeah, always a pleasure.
Well, just as I mentioned in my last email...
Did she get the email? She did?
Great... I see.
I understand that.
Does she even know who her readers are?
She said that?
No matter how many fucks she gives, she's under contract,
and she's expected to fulfill it.
In that case, I don't give a fuck either.
She's got until Monday, 10:00 AM.
And she better leave the main character alone,
we've got two books left.
She hung up.
– Liliana, I've got a meeting with the board today. – I know.
They're looking for any excuse to shut down your department.
I know, what can I say?
You read it, you have a copy, maybe I'm overreacting.
You're still here?
Get out, sweetie.
Thank you, Corina, always a pleasure chatting with you.
– She's not reading it? – She's too busy.
Cheer up, girl.
Ready for your next assignment?
– That'd be... – “Duel of the Mighty Titans”, I think.
It's down in Design, go for it.
Gorgeous.
– Hi there. – Hey.
I'm here for the CD.
– She's here for the CD. – The CD...
“Duel of the Mighty Titans”.
Corina, we're planning a small get-together,
with people from the department.
You have to come, it's like, six blocks away.
And please bring your mom, we'd love to meet her.
You're so mean.
Authors are the cornerstone of literature.
But there are levels to the social scale of writers.
And Corina has been relegated to the lowest tier.
Because of her quiet, introspective personality,
her bosses have never trusted her very much.
Hey.
Lili says she really needs that by Friday.
That's tomorrow.
Tomorrow's Friday.
They hired her in Publishing, out of respect,
to the memory of her father, who used to work at the paper,
and placed her in the most harmless department there is.
Style correction for pulp erotica.
– I love that one. – The bedroom one, right?
– I really like the lighting. – Yeah, me too.
I feel like it's what it needs.
Guys, here's the...
– Jorge doesn't love it though. – Why not?
– You know how he is. – But it's perfect.
Ever since she moved to that town,
it's practically impossible to reach her.
Yeah, last time we saw her here was like, ten years ago.
As soon as possible, ma'am, because this is an urgent matter.
Tomorrow? Excellent, thanks.
One more thing, Ms. Díaz,
let's not tell anyone from the board about this.
Five, six, seven, eight,
nine, ten, eleven...
You go see the supplier, I'll lock up tonight.
– Sure, that's why I have the truck. – Look, it's Corina.
Going home, Corina?
We're getting some pork rind tostadas, should I get some for you guys?
Well, see you.
– Not even for tostadas? Damn. – She won't leave the block.
– How can you turn down tostadas? – Pork rind tostadas, no less.
Certainty and stability as opposed to improvisation and what's new.
What's safe as opposed to what's yet to be known.
For Corina, rituals and consistency, signify being in control,
over the different elements of her systematic life.
– Hello, sweetie. – Hi.
Everything alright?
Sure thing, sweetie.
I was about to turn it on, I swear.
“We've got the microwave though,” I thought.
They both do the same thing.
And microwaves are safer.
But microwave quesadillas make no sense.
– How was your day? – Good.
Quite good?
Very good.
The Design guys congratulated me on my latest pulp erotica.
We're really good friends.
Corina is also the style corrector of her own reality.
– I'm glad they liked it. – Yeah.
Lili read it and she really liked it.
– She does that a lot. – That's great.
– How's Lili? – She's great.
We talked so much today.
– She does it all the time. – That's nice.
Yeah, we're both worried Silverman won't deliver her book in time.
– You don't say. – The ending is not ready yet.
– You don't say. – Yeah, and...
I had to write her quite a lengthy email,
she responded right away and we talked about...
creative freedom, and authorial integrity,
and how hard it is to insert your creative will,
into the factors of this market of comformity and compliance,
to the needs of a mass audience,
and therefore, to the capitalist intentions of a publishing house.
That's nice, sweetie.
“DUEL OF MIGHTY TITANS” A UNIQUE ROMANCE BY ALEJANDRO GUERR--
Corina loves happy endings.
– Here it is. – Is this the new one?
They should let you write novels,
after everything you've written for them.
And I bet your pulp books sell pretty good.
Everybody likes love stories.
Yeah.
I wonder why they don't.
Stories about passion and lust...
– And wild sex... – Renée!
If they let you write novels, you wouldn't have to go to the office,
you'd be able to work from here, from home.
– Good night, sweetheart. – Good night, Renée.
You want some breakfast?
Good morning, Renée.
Good morning, can I fix you a plate?
No, thanks.
Renée?
I loved it.
One, two, three, four, five...
That very first coffee in the morning is of vital importance.
Hello, Corina.
The usual?
Can you hand me that hammer?
Please.
Corina?
Can you hand me the hammer?
And two packets of brown sugar.
There you go.
Thanks.
Bye, Corina.
If Ms. Liliana already told you to wait until the 27th,
then you have to wait until the 27th.
I can't do anything about that.
My supervisor? That would be Ms. Liliana.
I'll gladly put her on the phone, one moment please.
Stay right there, I'll be right back.
Sorry, I was on a call, how are you, ma'am?
I'm good, thanks.
Well, I've read the manuscript,
and in short, it's true, that ending is a mess.
And not just the ending, she changed her style completely.
Her tone is now harsh, and gritty.
We've been trying to reach her since yesterday, but...
– The probability of her changing the ending is next to zero. – Why?
“Lili, I won't change a single comma,
this had always been my plan for the series.
Sincerely, Xareni Silverman.”
We'd like to know the risks,
of publishing the book as it is right now.
– Knowing that people won't like it. – Do we know that though?
– It's not a bad book, it's just different. – You read it, Liliana.
Does it even make sense next to “Fracture” or “Sunrise”?
“Once I finished it, while I was re-reading the final chapters,
just so I could relive its delicate but persistent beauty,
I realized 'Fracture' is also a book about hope.”
“A feminine story of such a large soul,
the whole world fits inside of it,” that was about “Sunrise”.
“Yet another luminous success, in which the triumph of good,
is not only feasible but absolutely inevitable.”
Could you say something like that about what we just read?
– The national and international press will... – Eat us alive.
The readers will start a fire to burn their copies,
of “Resonance”.
If people don't like it, it takes a toll on the company.
In plain Spanish, please.
The paper has been subsidizing the Publishing department for years.
– I know. – I can't keep defending your department,
if the numbers keep dropping.
The whole department?
– Everyone in Narrative. – Until we see some numbers,
we won't know how hard it will hit you,
but if it ends up being a total failure,
we would have to transfer some of your employees to other areas,
but not everyone, Lili.
I'm sorry to question how you run things around here but,
why are we reading the ending just now?
That's how she's always delivered her work.
– Why? Because it's Silverman. – So she can screw us.
She's had a spotless record until now,
I guess that's why we've tolerated her so far.
It's a famous writer's trick,
the closer you get to the deadline,
the notes are less thorough, there are less changes.
They think editors are a bunch of frustrated writers,
who mess with their narrative, or change their style,
but all we want is for their books to sell,
and we've never changed a comma of any of her books.
Then again, she had never had her protagonist flayed before.
– She... fries her? – Flays her.
– She flayed Martirio? – How about that?
The things she's put her through,
Christ suffered less on the cross,
than Martirio in the last ten pages.
– There's still an out for us. – What is it?
Silverman's got great legal insurance.
We're not suing her, she's a genius.
She's supposed to write two more books for us,
we can't end our relationship with her.
Did you clearly inform her of the new deadline?
– Monday, 10:00 AM. – Did you inform her in writing?
No, over the phone.
I talked to Felipa, her assistant.
That's better, actually.
Were there any witnesses?
– Rodrigo was here. – No, Rodrigo won't do.
How are you holding up?
There are two kinds of people in this world:
those who can't let a missing tilde go,
and those who can.
The word periodo [period] is, like many others,
a bi-stressed word, which means,
it can have two kinds of prosodic stress, both correct,
not to be confused with diacritical words,
which change their meaning,
based on whether or not they carry a tilde.
Once the red pencil stains the paper,
it's impossible to stop.
Just like blood, when war has been unleashed.
This period is used incorrectly.
This dash hinders the musicality of the phrase.
A semicolon?
Who uses it for something other than copulative constructions?
And when you least expect it, you've reached the ending,
and the protagonist indeed dies a resounding death.
Or is it possible to change the ending?
Can a red pencil bring back the dead?
You're the only one left, miss.
It's Friday. I'm locking up in five!
It's possible, it's always possible.
Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty,
twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four,
twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight...
Yes?
Nothing.
You didn't come downstairs.
Here.
Thanks.
That one looks long...
Is it a novel?
Yes.
Is it yours?
It's Silverman's.
Lili wants me to work on the ending,
she says it's terrible.
Seriously?
Renée...
Do you think cowards could get moments of courage?
Coward's a pretty strong word.
How do you call someone who lacks courage then?
Someone who lives in fear.
Fear is a natural reaction, it's about survival.
More or less.
But once it becomes permanent, or one's lifestyle,
that's when it takes over and turns people into cowards.
Prudence is a virtue of the wise.
It could become excessive though, what about having...
too much prudence?
Or excessive caution.
I would rather people call me a living coward, than a brave corpse.
I wasn't talking about you.
You're talking about yourself.
I'm talking about a character,
a fictional one,
who hasn't dared to do much throughout their history, and finally,
they have to take a risk.
But doing so goes against all logic that's been built around them.
If a cowardly character has a single moment of courage,
it means they were never a coward but,
someone brave, patiently waiting for the right moment.
You think so?
I think we are so much more,
than the language we use to describe ourselves.
What would need to happen for this hypothetical character,
to get out of their comfort zone?
When did comfort become such a bad word?
I'm doing just fine.
– You know how hard it was for me to do fine? – I know.
I'm sure someone would think I'm a cowardly character,
but you know what?
That's OK.
I don't think you're a cowardly character.
Let your character do whatever it is they have to do.
Don't judge them too harshly, no matter what choice they make.
Corina couldn't stop. She kept reading and correcting,
mostly out of the momentum caused by an inescapable question.
How to give such a tragic story a happy ending?
Almost finished?
Almost.
May I?
That's nice,
the thing about the neutral paradise and the roots.
– Is that a metaphor? – It's an allegory.
A long string of metaphors.
They're in every inch of the book.
“RESONANCE” BY X. SILVERMAN EDITORIAL CORRECTION BY CORINA ROJAS
Some days, everything seems to go our way,
everything falls into place and we get to feel alright,
we get to feel important, and needed.
IT'S THE BEST THING I'VE EVER READ
Hello.
OK.
Medium black coffee, whole milk, and two packets of brown sugar.
What's wrong?
No news on Silverman.
– Nothing yet? – Nothing.
Tiny actions can change the course of history.
Tiny accidents.
Tiny mistakes.
– Good morning, Rodrigo. – Morning.
– Any news on Silverman? – None.
We need to know what we're going to do next.
– Nothing yet? – Nothing.
– Any phone calls? – Nothing.
Any emails?
– Nothing. – This just came in, Lili.
It's from Silverman.
“You were right, Liliana, my book was missing a couple of commas,
I profoundly apologize, how unprofessional of me,
I can't wait to see those first printed copies.”
Hi, Renée.
Good morning, sweetheart.
– How's it going? – Sorry to ask you this, honey,
but it's a matter of life and death.
Could you take this to the paper? Corina left it here.
– And it's so important. – Of course.
– Yeah. – Thanks.
Morning.
Who's this for?
Corina Rojas, I guess.
Send Corina in.
Sure thing, Lili. Corinita?
Corina!
Lili's looking for you.
Can we talk for a moment, sweetheart?
Hello?
It's quite simple.
Last week you were standing there,
and you listened while we made a call.
Remember?
You listened to us asking Silverman, through Felipa,
to deliver an appropriate ending by Monday, 10:00 AM.
I just need you to testify, in case we go to trial.
Corina,
I need you to help us with this,
you won't affect her, we're just trying,
to pressure her into fulfilling her contract.
It's very important.
Think of all the readers, just like you,
who would be disappointed.
We're a team... aren't we?
She's gone mute!
Do you understand what Liliana's asking from you?
I have to go to the restroom.
Lili.
What do you need, Corinita? They're pretty busy.
Could you tell them I'm willing to help?
It seems like they won't need you, but I'll tell them.
I even got all made up,
and I walked out into the street, I really did.
You would've been so proud of me.
I went back inside when the garbage truck drove by.
But I figured out a way to send it to you.
You worked so hard all weekend,
only to leave it at home.
They're going to fire you if you don't snap out of it, hun.
I can't always be taking care of you.
Anyway, no harm done.
I love you.
I'll make you some rice for dinner.
In the microwave, but it'll be good.
I can't believe it.
She changed the ending.
She changed the whole thing.
And she saved Martirio.
Did she though?
But why did she send us that shit about the commas?
What a complex author.
She's a genius.
She's a motherfucking son of a bitch,
who's going to end up giving me a stroke,
but she's a genius.
It's the best book in the series.
For sure. We should send her a bottle, or some flowers.
Give me that.
That bitch.
– Not now, Corina, please. – I need to tell them that's my ending.
Lili told me she's going to read your work this time.
Heads up, everybody.
I don't know who you prayed to this weekend, but it worked.
Code red, this is not a drill.
Turn those presses on, get everything ready,
we gotta be printing by 5 o'clock.
We're three days behind, we gotta catch up.
Thanks, everyone.
Call home and tell them you won't make it to dinner,
this is the biggest week of the year,
0 to 60 in three hours.
I trust you, guys. Let's do it.
You heard her,
0 to 60, you functionally illiterate people.
Being a person whose world lies within less than 8 square miles,
it's understandable she's never had to use any maps,
and has only read about them.
Corina had to conduct strenuous research,
on coordinates, streets, roads, and bus stops.
How to go from point A to point B.
Point of origin, and destination.
Corina?
– Where were you going? – I already told you,
I must find Silverman.
Don't make me call Liliana and find out the truth.
Why do you ask me, if you're not going to believe me?
Because you haven't left the block in years, that's why.
There had been no need.
And there's no need now.
What could be so important Liliana can't manage?
Liliana doesn't know about it.
– I'm going to call her... – No one can know I'm going.
I made a mistake.
A big one.
I have to fix it.
You're not leaving this house.
Period.
I don't write for Liliana.
I don't write for the publishing house.
Everything you've read was written by others, I changed the names.
I'm just a style corrector, that's all I do.
I've got a suitcase full of manuscripts I put my name on.
Liliana never asked me to change Silverman's ending.
That manuscript should've never left this house,
but you gave it to them, now they think it's Silverman's.
I have to fix that.
I still don't want you to go out.
I don't care if you lie, but please don't go out.
Are you OK?
She needs our help, Carlos.
She needs help in general, from you, from me,
she doesn't have any other friends?
– C'mon, you owe me. – What's that supposed to mean?
I don't like taking the truck out on the road.
C'mon, I'll owe you one.
Carlos will take you.
You're in good hands.
Giddy up then, let's do this.
I know how to get to the second toll booth,
but we're gonna have to ask around,
'cause I couldn't find the address they gave you.
Alright.
Hold on, stop.
Shall we?
You want me to go back?
When you leave your house,
what do you do that helps?
I take a deep breath and I count my steps.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four...
Four.
– Five. – Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Hold on, I'm on it.
Do you need anything?
Just some air, it will pass.
Lie down for a moment, it will help.
Everything alright?
The sky.
Are you ready?
You can't see this in the city.
Who are we going to see anyway?
Xareni Silverman.
– Xareni Silverman? The Xareni Silverman? – Yeah.
I've never read her books, but Fernanda loves her.
– Do you like her? – A lot.
Is she any good?
She's the best.
– I had never seen a cow before. – I almost had a heart attack.
The street should be around here, we should ask anyway.
Let's ask her.
Excuse me, do you know the way to El Cedro Street?
You see that street over there?
Well, that's the only street around here.
– Who are you looking for? – Xareni Silverman.
– Who? – Silverman?
She's a writer.
– Oh, the teacher. – I guess.
Her house is at the end of the street,
on the right side, not the left, don't get them mixed up.
– Alright, thanks. – Is she expecting you?
No.
Don't go empty-handed then.
– I've only got dollars though. – That's alright, young man.
Here.
Excellent, have a nice day.
Are you ready?
Good afternoon, we're here to...
That's fine.
– We're looking for Ms. Silverman. – We don't know her real name though.
– Are you from the school board? – No, we're...
We need to talk to her.
She's not here.
– And you're her... – Felipa, what do you need?
Do you know where we could find her? It's kind of urgent.
The teacher is not interested in visitors.
Thanks.
The teacher wasn't home.
I see, I'm sure she's already on her way to school.
– Where's that? – It's really far.
And it's hard to find.
Unless someone goes with you.
The teacher never gets any visitors.
She's very strange.
She never comes to our parties.
She never throws any Christmas parties,
or has people over for coffee.
She goes from her house to the school, and back again.
She teaches any classes?
Of course, she's a teacher.
She teaches many different things.
It's right over there.
What are you waiting for? She's in there.
I'll wait for you here.
The Law of the Jungle forbids every beast to eat Man.
Except under one circumstance.
When they're killing to show their children how to kill.
But they must do so outside the hunting grounds of the pack.
There's a powerful reason behind this.
Man-killing will definitely bring,
the arrival of other men, carrying guns.
And then, everybody in the jungle hurts and suffers.
Lety, darling,
that last sentence, it's ugly, isn't it?
When you say it, think of something sad.
Like when those powerful men come to town and steal our water.
– “And then...” – And then, everybody in the jungle,
hurts and suffers.
Great job.
– Thanks for everything, teacher. – You shouldn't have, thank you.
Hello, um,
Ms. Silverman.
– We're here from... – The publishing house.
– How do you know? – Nobody calls me that,
nobody else knows where I live,
and I know neither of you.
Was Liliana too busy to come apologize herself?
No, ma'am, I'm here on my own accord.
“Of my own accord”.
Call me Regina.
In six years, no one from the office,
had bothered coming all the way here,
so I'm assuming it must be tremendously important.
Is there a place where we can talk?
This is my stop.
There you go.
Thank you so much.
Tell your boyfriend he might come in.
What?
Tell your boyfriend he might come in.
Or did you come all the way here,
just to see my version of “The Jungle Book”?
We have things to discuss, don't we?
We brought you some cream bread.
It's a great day for the cream bread market.
– The book? – Yes.
– You took it? – Yes.
And you took it from the trash can?
And who threw it in the trash can?
Of course.
Continue.
I started reading it and...
I couldn't put it down.
I'm used to correcting, I'm an editor.
So I started to correct it.
They were pretty worried about the ending back at the office,
and once I read it, so was I.
Your books have helped me cope with the world,
does that make sense?
So the whole thing became a challenge.
How to give a joyful twist to such a tragic story.
It can be done, it can always be done.
I changed some things, but the essence is there,
I was respectful,
I respected your allegories,
your narrative structure...
– Your narrative progression... – No, I get it.
You corrected my novel.
Well, the ending.
Because the ending is what they're truly worried about.
Let me guess,
Martirio Goicochea lives, and ends up,
fused in a true love's kiss.
She doesn't end up fused in a true love's kiss, in fact,
she ends up alone, but yes.
She lives.
– My books must not be corrected. – I'm not saying your ending was bad,
it's very good.
So good, but...
Being pessimistic is on trend, I think.
But you,
you're not usually pessimistic.
That's what's so different about your writing.
– It's important for people to... – On trend?
You think it's a trend?
You know what happened to Lety, the girl from rehearsal?
It's better if you don't know.
The world is chock-full of frivolity and indifference.
Transforming it is so uncomfortable for most people,
they'd rather ignore that their lifestyle harms others.
They don't care, as long as the others,
are faceless beings,
far away, nameless,
from towns in the middle of nowhere, with no access to water,
let alone access to a condom.
Or a little bit of justice.
I wanted to know what would happen,
if the others were the protagonists,
of everyone's favorite novels.
From the moment I wrote the first book,
I did so thinking about that ending.
We must learn how to deal with the discomfort,
of unhappy endings,
and to survive in them.
I'm not up for a happy ending.
I'm not in the mood for another happy ending.
There is something called artistic integrity,
and that is the only thing an author has in this world.
At least we tried.
I thought it would work.
What now?
I have to own up to what I did.
I can't begin to imagine the consequences of my mistake.
At least five thousand copies, in the trash.
Assuming they haven't shipped any of them yet.
Let's just see what happens.
We'll figure something out.
It will be alright, you'll see.
Sure.
Thanks.
You're almost 400 kilometers away from your home, by the way.
I know.
You need a ride somewhere?
I'm coming with you.
I need to talk to Liliana.
What's going on at that publishing house,
that they have an intern tell their best-selling author,
how to write?
No offense.
Let's get going then.
It's old, but it won't leave us stranded.
I can't, I'll get carsick.
Do you get carsick?
Me?
I wouldn't expect the young man to read and drive.
Read.
Don't get your hopes up, I haven't changed my mind,
it's just...
mere literary curiosity.
“'Who is that woman staring at me?' Martirio wondered.”
“Incapable of seeing herself in her own reflection.”
“A small town girl, Manuel's daughter,
the one who would run and hide even from the chickens.
Here she is now, a blank look on her face, and blood on her clothes,
holding the gun steadily,
tracing her own steps back to the river,
where she would get rid of the evidence.
That, of course, if something was actually going through her mind.”
“Martirio Goicochea left the station at 19:45 hours,
and at some point during that train ride,
that name, and last name, died for good.”
Damn.
Did you write that last bit?
We made it.
That wasn't the worst thing I've ever read.
Sandrita.
I'm here to talk to Liliana.
Keep one.
As a souvenir.
Regina.
Liliana.
Please explain.
Castelón Ediciones, good afternoon.
Thank you for conceding, the new ending is incredible.
Well, I think we need to talk.
Come with me.
Corina, Corina, Corina.
What you did should get you sued, darling.
Stealing confidential material,
misappropriation of duties, identity theft,
it's a long list, terrible stuff.
– However... – However!
These are not normal circumstances.
All the illegal things you did,
resulted in... this.
What Liliana wants is,
to thank you, right?
Yeah... thanks.
I don't understand.
Regina agreed to keep your version of the book.
– We made a deal with her. – It wasn't cheap.
In exchange for her to accept your version as hers,
and to promise not to sue the publishing house.
– However... – However!
This story cannot leave this room,
which is why we need you to sign these.
The company has agreed to assign you,
a percentage of the sales of the book.
This is an irrevocable contract,
and its commercial rights period and validity extend for 99 years.
It's quite a generous offer, under these circumstances.
Of course it includes an extensive non-disclosure clause.
And severe penalties for breaching it.
– Are you firing me? – No, we're not, Corina.
– Under normal circumstances... – These are not normal circumstances.
You co-wrote a book that's part of a successful series.
You may keep your job, as long as you sign these.
I don't want to be a style corrector anymore.
I want to write.
Write-write?
I want to write-write.
Deal.
Have you been writing long?
For as long as I can remember.
I'm curious to see what you're going to write now.
Me too.
Beautiful, isn't it?
This city.
It's huge.
Have a nice day, Corina.
– You too, Rodrigo. – See you on Monday.