Category Archives: Life & Death

WHY FIFTY SHADES IS PHENOMENALLY POPULAR WITH (some) WOMEN

The Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy never was, and never will be, nominated for Pulitzer or Nobel literature prizes. But you can’t argue with Fifty Shades’ incredible commercial success as ebook, print, audio, and film products. It’s been ten years since author EL James released this tale of tension between virginal Anastasia Steele and billionaire bad boy Christian Grey. The passing decade hasn’t stopped the intrigue surrounding the story series. That’s due to the one main reason why Fifty Shades is phenomenally popular with (some) women.

I admit something. I’ve never read the books or seen the films. And I’m not going to. I have absolutely no interest in getting involved in bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, or sadism and masochism (BDSM). The only things I’m ever going to tie up are my shoes, and I can get all the pain I need by accidentally pricking myself with the pin from a Remembrance Day poppy.

The reason I’m writing this is curiosity. I got curious about Fifty Shades’ phenomenal popularity when bumping into a fellow writer the other day. She asked what I was up to—my work-in-progress or WIP as it’s called in the accounting biz. I told her about my series-in-development, City Of Danger.

“Wow!” she said. “Cool concept. Who’s your target market?”

“Educated women, like you, looking for a thrill who’ll pay the bill,” I said.

She giggled. “You could have another Fifty Shades of Grey on your hands. Just add some sex. Kinky sex.” Then she winked and walked away.

She got me thinking. When I got home, I asked Rita (my wife), “Did you ever read Fifty Shades of Grey?”

Rita gave me the over-her-shoulder look. “No. I don’t want to read a badly-written piece of smut.”

“Do you know anyone who has?”

“Melissa read it.”

I smiled. “Melissa would. What’d she think?”

“She liked it.”

“Because…”

“She said it was pornography for women. Mommy porn.”

So down fifty grey rabbit holes I went, researching this popular (some) women’s phenomenon. Part was to unlock the secret of success—how I could cast its spell of marketing magic over the City Of Danger. Part was because I had a DyingWords blog post deadline looming, and I needed an interesting topic. Fifty Shades fulfilled both.

First stop was at Amazon to check some figures. Zon’s stats say the print and ebook versions sold over 150 million copies and that was as of October 2017. If EL James, whose real name is Erika Leonard, made two bucks profit per book (like I do) that put her in the 300-million club not counting film, audio, and translation rights. Not a bad return on a writing investment.

Amazon reviews and ratings count. Trust me. I have twenty products published on Amazon and a few 1-Stars to prove it. Fifty Shades of Grey, the first in the series, has 56,514 ratings/reviews for an average 4 out of 5 stars. 59% are 5. 11% are 4. 9% are 3. 7% are 2. 14% are 1. Amazon doesn’t allow Zero-Star ratings or I’d be able to tell you about mine.

My experience with reviews and written ratings is there’s a love/hate relationship between the reader and the writer. If readers go, “Meh… it was okay…” they rarely bother to mark up a score. The lovers will gush out a praise and carry on reading your other books, while the haters will bitch-slap you and leave.

Seeing as Fifty Shades, Volume One, has 59% of 56,514 people loving it, that’s 31,647 and a half people who didn’t think it was a badly-written piece of smut. I know from my Amazon stats that maybe one in a thousand downloaders leave a rating and far less leave a written review. Takeaway here is Fifty Shades of Grey has something big going for it.

I had to have a look. I clicked Look Inside and read the opening. It starts with Anastasia looking in a mirror. Reflection like this—says every writing guru who ever gurued writing—is a bad way to hook a reader. I moved past this because, in my experience, writing gurus should be making money by writing intriguing books rather than guruing others on how to write indigesting books.

My next impression was that 50SOG (as the interwebbers call it) is in first-person, present-tense. It’s not my style but, then, I’m a Frederick Forsyth fan, not a Fan Fiction fan. Moving on. Dialogue? Passable. Characterization? Anastasia developed right away as a main character. Plot? I could see this was heading somewhere that might be interesting. Editing? Impeccable.

There were a lot of written reviews, so I skimmed the best and the worst:

5-Star: So why give a terrible book five stars? I teach a human sexuality course at a college, and this book is an EXCELLENT example of poor communication, disrespect between romantic partners, and toxicity in a relationship. It also demonstrates some of the false beliefs about S&M that society holds. Honestly, it reads like the author has never been in a healthy S&M relationship. Safe-word much? These are great examples for my students, and we mock the book openly in class.

1-Star: No, just no. When I downloaded this series to my kindle before leaving on a long European adventure, I was reminded of the old saying “if everyone else was jumping off a bridge, would you?” I like sex. And god help me, I liked Twilight. Mostly I loved Wuthering Heights, the book that inspired Twilight and then, this. But, Christian Grey is too young and one dimensional to be that twisted. Even to be a billionaire—it would help if she actually interviewed one. Anastasia is a simpleton, through and through. One thing the book gets right—these two really belong together. I tried to turn off my intellectual understanding and proceeded to take it at just porn-level—but even the love scenes failed to titillate. I only weep for all the trees that were destroyed due to this book.

5-Star: My preferred reading is non-fiction – biographies, history, then if I must – novels based on history. I don’t read romance novels nor watch porn. 23% into this book on my Kindle I was ready to terminate reading it but the author slips a joke in at that point and I got hooked. I’ve read books #2 and #3 a couple of times. I’ve read 50 SHADES a dozen times (and currently); for me the book is like cocaine to an addict. It’s very enjoyable. I think everyone from 17 up should read the book and could have a much more satisfying life through their sex life. I also think that some Lit student(s)/journalist should do a study of hospital emergency rooms inquiring into what might be book related incidents since 2012 when the book came out. Bottom line – enjoy cautiously.

1-Star: I wanted to see what all the hubbub was about and bought this a while back. Started reading it and was not impressed. Mommy porn, for sure. Not at all well written. Ridiculous premise. If this guy lived in a trailer in the woods, no woman would go near him. But because he’s a wealthy man, somehow he’s considered mysterious and sexy. It’s shocking and disturbing that’s such deviance is considered entertaining especially since it essentially deals with sexual slavery.

I left the Amazon page without One-Clicking. My curiosity was satisfied that it was a professionally produced product and the terms “badly-written” and “smut” are entirely subjective, although I highly respect Rita’s taste and judgement. After all, she married me thirty-eight years ago and made it work for both of us.

I jumped to Google. Tap. Tap. Tap. Why… fifty… shades… grey… phenomenally… popular… women. The SERPs served me well—problem was there was so much stuff to wade through and find out the main reason why Fifty Shades was so phenomenally popular with (some) women.

I first focused on the series history and its publishing progression along with marketing management. What I read was a one-in-a-longshot. Sometimes the stars align with a big dose of dumb luck. If they didn’t, as in this case, Fifty Shades would have long been run through the Amazon crusher.

50SOG started as Fan Fiction. I’ve never read anything from this genre and wasn’t exactly clear on what it was. Wikipedia, the Queen of Hyperlinks and who has never let me down, says this:

Fan fiction or fanfiction (also abbreviated to fan fic, fanfic, fic or ff) is fictional writing written in an amateur capacity as fans, unauthorized by, but based on an existing work of fiction. The author uses copyrighted characters, settings, or other intellectual properties from the original creator(s) as a basis for their writing. Fan fiction ranges from a couple of sentences to an entire novel, and fans can both keep the creator’s characters and settings and/or add their own. It is a form of fan labor. Fan fiction can be based on any fictional (and sometimes non-fictional) subject. Common bases for fan fiction include novels, movies, musical groups, cartoons, anime, manga, and video games.

Fair enough. Before Erika Leonard was EL James, she wrote fan fiction under the penname Snowqueen’s Icedragon and posted her episodic first run of 50SOG on fanfic websites under the title Master of the Universe. The series took on a huge following of cult-like loyalists.

I need to stop for a sec and say something about Erika Leonard. This was not this woman’s first trip to town. She was already in her forties and worked as a film producer by day and a sharp marketer by night. She knew exactly was she was doing by building a fan base—a repeat audience who would keep on buying her episodes and recommend them to others over the internet. It’s now called “word-of-mouse” rather than “word-of-mouth”.

To quote EL James (Erika Leonard) in an interview where she spoke of her shock at the success of the books, “The explosion of interest has taken me completely by surprise,” she said. James had described the Fifty Shades trilogy as, “My midlife crisis, written large. All my fantasies are in there, and that’s it.”

Ms. James/Leonard drafted the 50SOG trilogy on a classic and a current pop-culture phenomenon. She used Beauty and the Beast along with Twilight and replaced damsels and uglies and vampires and werewolves with a straight-laced virgin and a rich guy with some serious sexual issues. Voila! FanFic fans loved it, and the series went viral in internet circles, being read on subscription web pages.

The mainstream was watching. Traditional Publishing is always looking at who’s making money by setting a trend. The first to pick up on 50SOG was a small Australian publisher who bought the rights and put the series out as ebooks. The publisher, Writer’s Coffee Shop, had limited marketing funds and relied on book bloggers to boost sales through word-of-mouse.

E-sales grew and Writer’s Coffee Shop released paperbacks that sold like iced drinks on a blazing day. Part of the success was marketing brilliance from Ms. James/Leonard. She designed her own covers and was adamant that her then-current publisher (and future publisher at Random House) stay away from the cheesy romance tropes of a ripped hunk clutching a hot chick.

If you note Fifty Shades of Grey, Fifty Shades Darker, and Fifty Shades Freed, you’ll see monotones with a tie, a mask, and a pair of handcuffs. The covers are quite discreet and tasteful. That’s in my opinion, anyway. They allow women of status to comfortably read the books on the tube and not feel some sort of public shame.

Fifty Shades grew astoundingly fast. From May 2011 when it was published by Writer’s Coffee House to March 2012 when Random House acquired the rights, the start of the series broke the million-seller mark. Big hitters like The New York Times, Entertainment Weekly, The Wall Street Journal, NBC’s Today, and ABC’s Good Morning America gave it coverage. 50SOG even graced the covers of Time and Newsweek.

All press is good press, right? It certainly was in Ms. James/Leonard’s case, and it wasn’t long before she was fabulously paid by the film industry. Ten years out, she’s a wealthy, wealthy lady.

So that’s the story of how the Fifty Shades trilogy became famous. But that doesn’t answer the question of why it was phenomenally popular with (some) women. If you rabbit-hole the interwebs, like I just did, you’ll find every self-appointed expert offering their psychological opinion.

You’ll find psycho-analysis of erotic fantasies being primly inbred into human females where they might get physically penetrated by males but do the opposite mentally. You’ll find suggestions that 50SOG lets the bored housewife, who’s on the verge of divorce, sneak away into an imaginary world where she can be just a little naughty without getting hurt… or caught. You’ll find the words “curiosity”, “experimental”, “liberating”, “limit-pushing”, “exciting”, “taboo”, “exotic”, “erotic”, “escape”, “submissive-underneath”, “dominance-on top”, and “delightful wish fulfillment”.

You’ll find the viewpoint that people—(some) women, of course—can’t stop talking about 50SOG, and that it’s presented in a socially-acceptable manner as somewhat of a scholarly study of sexuality. Then, there are the critics who describe the series as beyond banal, actually dreadful. But one thing in common, few wanted to be the last one to read Fifty Shades of Grey.

My conclusion of why Fifty Shades of Grey was phenomenally popular with (some) women? I think Melissa got it right. Fifty Shades is pornography for women. It’s Mommy porn, and I don’t judge those who read it.

65 THOUGHTS FROM 65 YEARS

I turned 65 this week. Officially, I’m a Senior. I’m now eligible for geezer graft – my public pension and a free morning coffee at McDonalds plus 10 percent price cuts at prestigious places I patronize like Walmart, Home Depot, Habitat For Humanity’s ReStore, Salvation Army’s thrift shop, and many, many hole-in-the-wall used book stores. On delegated days, of course, and with certain conditions applying like having my Covid vaccine papers ready and my leak-free Depends securely on. Also, my If Found – Return To wristband in place and my GPS tracker beaconing away.

I never thought I’d live this long, given some of the high-risk behavior I’ve displayed during my 65 trips around the sun. 64 of those trips were pretty much fun. 1 was not.  However, that bad trip gave me an entirely new respect for the value of this extremely precious and terribly fragile thing called life.

My 65 trips gave me insight into what’s important and what’s not. They also gave me plenty of time to think. Specific thinking. Random thinking. And nonsense thinking. In no particular order, and with no particular agenda, here are 65 thoughts from 65 years—many borrowed from folks much wiser than me. By the way, I also shared this post with friends over at the Kill Zone blog on Thursday although it’s tweaked a bit for today.

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1. Whatever the mind can conceive and believe it can achieve by taking planned action with a positive mental attitude. This is the core of Napoleon Hill’s Think and Grow Rich personal growth and success philosophy which, in my experience, is pure truth. It’s the primal advice I pass on.

2. You become what you think about most of the time.

3. Be careful with your thoughts, because your thoughts become your words. Be careful with your words, because your words become your actions. Be careful with your actions, because your actions become your habits. Be careful with your habits, because your habits become your character and your character becomes your destiny.

4. Dream big. Dream often. The first step in achieving big dreams is by having them.

5. Don’t matter what came first—the chicken or the egg—as long as you stay alive and remain healthy enough to eat them.

6. I’ve been rich. I’ve been poor. Rich is better.

7. Always read the instructions. Twice. Then save them.

8. Don’t buy extended warranties, timeshares, or cheap tools.

9. Persistence is to character as carbon is to steel.

10. If you must read the news, read for fact and data, not for opinions.

11. Cocaine users say they indulge because it amplifies their personality. I say coke is a dangerous drug for assholes.

12. When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.

13. If you chase a badger across a field and it goes down a hole, don’t follow and poke its backside with a pick handle. Seriously, don’t. I tried this. You’d be amazed at how fast badgers can turn around in a tight spot.

14. People of accomplishment rarely sit back and let things happen to them. They go out and happen to things.

15. Do not steal the parking spot reserved for the guy who’s about to interview you for your dream job.

16. And don’t bother searching for your eyeglasses while wearing them.

17. Speaking of eyeglasses, when you do go searching for your lost glasses and finally find them, don’t put them back where you found them. Put them where you first looked for them.

18. Once you get it all down to one shopping cart, you’ve got it made.

19. The Golden Rule will never fail. It’s the foundation of all other virtues.

20. I don’t judge your age, race, gender, sexual orientation, language, religion, political beliefs, education, occupation, body shape, or any other quirk that makes you a human being. You are you. I am me. I’ll be nice to you even if you’re not nice to me and I’m fine with that.

21. Never get involved in an Asian land war.

22. To make mistakes is human. To own your mistakes is divine. Nothing elevates a person higher than quickly admitting to, and taking personal responsibility for, the mistakes you make and then fixing them fairly. If you mess up, fess up. It’s astounding how powerful this ownership is.

23. Optimize your generosity. No one on their deathbed ever regretted giving away too much.

24. I’ve never seen a hearse pulling a trailer loaded with a ski-boat, an ATV, or a full-dresser Harley.

25. A vacation + a disaster = an adventure.

26. Ancient Jewish wisdom says not to argue to win the argument. Argue to discover the truth.

27. The difference between successful people and really successful people is that really successful people say no to almost everything.

28. The best way to have good ideas is to have a lot of ideas and then discard the bad ideas.

29. Seek to be the wisest in the room, not the loudest, and never miss a good chance to shut up.

30. Never take down a fence until you know why it was put up.

31. If you have to convince someone to stay with you, they’ve already left.

32. You have to write the book that wants to be written. And if the book is too difficult for adults, then write it for children.

33. No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer. No surprise in the reader.

34. Always apply the duck test.

35. The past is behind, learn from it. The future is ahead, prepare for it. The present is here, live it.

36. The two founding points of human existence are consciousness and entropy.

37. Everything in moderation, including moderation.

38. Read, read, read. Read everything—trash, classics, bad and good, and see how they do it. Just like a stonemason who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it. Then write. If it’s good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out the window and write something else.

39. Carl Sagan said, “A book is made from a tree. It is an assemblage of flat, flexible parts (still called leaves) imprinted with dark pigmented squiggles. One glance at it and you’ll hear the voice of another person, perhaps a person who’s been dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, the author is speaking, clearly and silently, inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people, citizens of distant epochs, who never knew one another. Books break the shackles of time—proof that humans can work magic.”

40. And Lady Gaga said, “When you make music or write or create, it’s really your job to have mind-blowing, irresponsible, condomless sex with whatever idea it is you’re screwing with at the time.”

41. There are old pilots and there are bold pilots but there are no old bold pilots.

42. You don’t stop flying when you get old. You get old when you stop flying.

43. A ride in a US Navy F-18 Hornet flight simulator is a mind-blowing and condomless, sexual experience. Been there. Done that. MUST do again.

44. A business rule: Pay every invoice within 48 hours. You’ll be amazed at how many people give your work top priority.

45. Ungulates like deer, moose, elk, and caribou have antlers for a reason.

46. Bears have claws and teeth for a reason, too. Don’t poke the bear like I poked the badger.

47. The cost of perfection is inaction, but boring progress produces exceptional results.

48. The less you need the approval of others, the easier it is to get what is right rather than what is easy.

49. “I don’t pay no attention to no kind of critics about nothing. If they knew as much as they claim about what they’re criticizing, then they ought to be doing that instead of standing on the sidelines using their mouth.” ~Muhammad Ali.

50. Multitasking is not only not thinking, it impairs your ability to think. Thinking means concentrating on one thing long enough to develop an idea about it. You do your best thinking by slowing down and concentrating.

51. Ninety percent of success can be boiled down to consistently doing the obvious thing for an uncommonly long time without convincing yourself that you’re smarter than you are.

52. That thing that made you weird as a kid could make you great as an adult—provided you don’t lose it.

53. If someone tries to convince you it’s not a pyramid scheme, it’s a pyramid scheme.

54. If you have any doubts about your ability to carry a load in one trip, do yourself a favor and make two trips.

55. Anything real begins with the fiction of what it could be. Imagination is the most potent force in the universe, and a skill you can get better at. It’s the one skill in life that benefits from ignoring what everyone else knows.

56. For every dollar you spend on something substantial, expect to pay another dollar in energizing,  repairing, maintaining, disposing, and replacing by the end of its serviceable life.

57. Eliminating clutter makes room for your true treasures.

58. If you plant for days, plant flowers. If you plant for years, plant trees. If you plant for eternity, plant ideas.

59. Never start a fight. Especially one you can’t win. Like, don’t get in a pissing match with a skunk, because you’re going to end up taking an excruciating, eye and nose blast plus a humiliating, clothes-stripped, tomato juice remediation bath while the skunk reloads and carries on to hose the next idiot who’s stupid enough to cross it.

59. Subsection 1. Same applies to badgers.

60. A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.

61. People shouldn’t look for perfect leaders. They should look for authentic leaders with human-flawed competence and integrity, not consumed with presenting their title’s self-importance.

62. Near the end of his life, Steve Jobs said, “I learned that life is like a river. At first, you think that if you’re successful, you get to take many things from that river… products people have made or ideas people have come up with. But, eventually, in life you realize that it’s not what you take from the river, it’s what you get to put into that river.”

63. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but not their facts.

64. Learning is not compulsory. Neither is survival.

65. When you die, you take nothing with you except your reputation.

Bonus Bit: When playing Monopoly, spend all you have to buy, barter, or trade for the strategic orange properties at the end of the second stretch just before Free Parking. Don’t bother with Utilities or Railroads. If you play the game right, and for long enough, you’ll find Park Place and Boardwalk are terrible returns on investment.

Another Bonus From 31Oct2021: I don’t care if the cat is black or white as long as it catches mice.

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Dyingwords followers – What words of wisdom will you share? Don’t be shy about commenting!

WAS AMANDA KNOX REALLY INNOCENT OF KILLING MEREDITH KERCHER?

The Amanda Knox story captured worldwide attention during the years she passed through the Italian legal system and was convicted—twice—of complicity in murdering her college roommate, Meredith Kercher. Now, the international spotlight is again upon Amanda Knox with the new Matt Damon movie Stillwater being based on her case. In Stillwater, Matt Damon’s fictional  character pursues justice for his daughter who is wrongfully accused and falsely imprisoned for murder. It leads to questioning if this was the truth in the real Amanda Knox story and that Knox was really innocent of killing Meredith Kercher.

There’s a lot of internet information on the Amanda Knox murder case. Some of it’s factual. Much is sensational tabloid junk about “Foxy Knoxy”the “Ice Lady”—disseminated by socially dysfunctional trolls operating from surplus metal sea-cans converted into dwellings via an extension cord hooked to one bare light bulb. To find out the truth, it’s necessary to first look at the overall facts and then examine how the Italian legal system handled the case through a dragged-out, eight-year-long process.

In 2007, Amanda Knox was a 20-year-old student from Seattle, Washington. She moved to Perugia in central Italy (slightly north of Rome) to further her journalism studies as Perugia was well-known for outstanding universities and educational opportunities—a popular place for foreign students. Here, Knox met a British exchange student, 21-year-old Meredith Kercher, and they shared a ground-floor, four-bedroom apartment with two other young ladies.

Quickly, Knox became romantically involved with a young Italian man, Raffaele Sollecito, and Kercher did the same with Giacomo Silenzi. At the time, Knox also worked part-time in a nightclub run by Patrick Lumumba. It was this pentagon of five that the Italian prosecutors would present as a sex game gone wrong that resulted in Meredith Kercher’s death.

Meredith Kercher

On the evening of November 1, 2007, Knox, Sollecito, Silenzi, and Kercher socialized with others at Sollecito’s apartment near to where the ladies roomed. Present was a man named Rudy Guede who was invited by one of the group but who was unknown to Knox and Kercher. Around 9 pm, Kercher excused herself from the gathering and walked back to her residence alone. Bit by bit, the gathering broke up leaving Knox and Sollecito to overnight there together.

At midday on November 2, Knox repeatedly tried to phone Meredith Kercher. She got no answer and became concerned so Knox and Sollecito went to the co-habitation and found Kercher’s bedroom door locked. Knox tapped on the door and called out but Kercher didn’t answer. Then Knox and Sollecito noticed some bloodstains, including a bloody footprint, in the bathroom.

Being alarmed, Knox called her mother in America who directed Knox to call the Italian police. She did so. However, there was a significant delay which was advanced as part of the prosecution’s later case against Knox and was supported by a timeline presented through cell phone records.

The first attending police officers were not homicide detectives. They were an Italian version of postal inspectors crossed with communication fraud investigators. There hadn’t been a murder in Perugia in over twenty years, so it was a considerable time before “competent” scene processors and trained murder cops arrived. Naturally, the scene was contaminated and the ensuing DNA evidence used in convicting Amanda Knox of murdering Meredith Kecher was compromised.

What the scene processing showed was Kercher had been attacked, raped, and had her throat cut in her bedroom. Her official cause of death was exsanguination (bleeding out) after being injured with a sharp-edged weapon. Kercher’s bedroom window was open and the investigators deduced that to mean that a break-in had been staged with the real killer setting the crime up to appear that a stranger was involved.

Police initially treated Amanda Knox as a witness. She was questioned on different occasions, but the homicide investigators slowly formulated a theory that Knox was lying to protect the actual murderer. They also developed a motive theory that Kercher was killed because she refused to take part in a multi-person sexual trist. An orgy.

On November 6, the Italian homicide detectives again brought Knox in for questioning. This time it turned into a full-on, hard-core interrogation that lasted hours. This is a complex and controversial part of the Amanda Knox story and precise details—at least as precise as possible because the authorities did not audio or video record it (rather they elicited a written confession from Knox)—can be read on the website amandaknoxcase.com under The Interrogation of Amanda Knox.

In Amanda Knox’s written confession, she states to have been present while her nightclub boss, Patrick Lumbumba, raped and murdered Meredith Kercher. Knox did not supply any motive or any details which only an involved person would know. Lumbuba was arrested on the strength of Knox’s statement and it was shortly proven, beyond all doubt, that Lumbumba had an air-tight alibi and he was flat-out innocent.

Rudy Guede

 

Amanda Knox was held in custody while the prosecution put an indictable case together. Meanwhile, the scene forensic evidence identified a DNA profile from semen on Kercher’s body. They conclusively linked it to Rudy Guede who had been at the social gathering on the evening when Kercher was last seen alive. Guede was arrested in Germany where he confessed and indicated that Amanda Knox had nothing to do with Kercher’s murder.

By now, the Italian legal system had a freight train rolling along the justice track. Instead of applying the brakes, the police, prosecutors, and judges threw more coal on the fire and kept on persecuting Amanda Knox. This was due to the archaic inquisitional system Italy was trying to gentrify into a western adversarial legal framework.

The common US-style evidence rules didn’t apply in the Italian arena. Despite Amanda Knox being hardline interrogated for hours without legal representation, being informed of her rights, denied food, water, and toilet facilities, slapped around, and breaking down in the middle of the night, the Italian court accepted Knox’s coerced confession as solid evidence that had to be admitted under their law structure. It didn’t matter that the prosecution’s perceived motive—some kinky sex game—had no factual basis, and it didn’t matter that Knox’s boyfriend, Raffaele Sollecito, provided Knox with her air-tight alibi. No, the Italian legal machine went right on persecuting Amanda Knox.

Knox stood trial through the summer and fall of 2009. Her case received massive public attention and the British tabloids sensationalized it like nothing ever seen. This was now the day of the emerging internet where chatrooms and social media made a spectacle of the trial and a massive mess of Amanda Knox’s life.

Amanda Knox was convicted of Meredith Kercher’s murder on December 4, 2009. She was sentenced to 26 years in jail. She appealed and had her murder conviction overturned on October 3, 2011, now having served nearly two years in an Italian prison.

In March of 2013, Italy’s Court of Cassation ordered a new trial and on January 30, 2014, she was once again convicted for killing Meredith Kercher. By now, Amanda Knox was back in America and was not returned to Italy during her new appeal. On March 27, 2015, Italy’s highest court again overturned her conviction and her legal persecution was over.

Any rational person would have to ask how this miscarriage of justice could possibly happen. The answer to that is as complicated as the Amanda Knox story, if that’s possible to fully tell. It’s a murky mix of systematic incompetence and utter lack of regard for the truth. In the high court final ruling, the judge cited “sensational failures”, “glaring errors”, “investigative amnesia”, “guilty and culpable omissions”, “ignorance of expert forensic testimony that demonstrated contamination of evidence”, “outright falsification of forensic evidence”, and “a case without any foundation”.

The horrific Amanda Knox wrongful conviction story is best told by Amanda, herself. In a recent interview with The Atlantic titled Who Owns Amanda Knox? , Amanda says:

Does my name belong to me? Does my face? What about my life? My story? Why is my name used to refer to events I had no hand in? I return to these questions again and again because others continue to profit off my identity, and my trauma, without my consent. Most recently, there is the film Stillwater, directed by Tom McCarthy and starring Matt Damon and Abigail Breslin, which was, in McCarthy’s words, “directly inspired by the Amanda Knox saga.” How did we get here?

In the fall of 2007, a British student named Meredith Kercher was studying abroad in Perugia, Italy. She moved into a little cottage with three roommates—two Italian law interns, and an American girl. Less than two months into her stay, a young man named Rudy Guede, an immigrant from the Ivory Coast, broke into the apartment and found Meredith alone. Guede had a history of breaking and entering. A week prior, he had been arrested in Milan while burglarizing a nursery school, and was found carrying a 16-inch knife. He was released. A week later, he raped Meredith and stabbed her in the throat, killing her. In the process, he left his DNA in Meredith’s body and throughout the crime scene. He left his fingerprints and footprints in her blood. He fled to Germany immediately afterward, and later admitted to being at the scene.

I am the American girl in that story, and if the Italian authorities had been more competent, I would have been nothing more than a footnote in a tragic story. But as in many wrongful convictions, the authorities formed a theory before the forensic evidence came in, and when that evidence indicated a sole perpetrator, Guede, ego and reputation led them to contort their theory to maintain that I was still somehow involved. Guede was quietly convicted for participating in the murder in a separate fast-track trial, and then I became the main event for eight long years.

While I was on trial for the murder of Meredith Kercher, from 2007 to 2015, the prosecution and the media crafted a story, and a doppelgänger version of me, onto which people could affix all their uncertainties, fears, and moral judgments. People liked that story: the psychotic man-eater, the dirty ice queen, Foxy Knoxy. A jury convicted my doppelgänger, and sentenced her to 26 years in prison. But the guards couldn’t handcuff that invented person. They couldn’t escort that fiction into a cell. That was me, the real me, who returned to that windowless prison van, to those high cement walls topped with barbed wire, to those cold, echoing hallways and barred windows, to that all-consuming loneliness.

Ten years ago, at the age of 24, I was acquitted, and I tumbled into a kind of purgatory. I left one cell and immediately entered another: the quiet of my childhood bedroom. Outside, the telephoto lenses were fixed on my closed blinds. Prison had given me an appreciation for all the freedoms I’d taken for granted. Freedom showed me how many I still lacked.

As I walked back into the free world, I knew that my doppelgänger was there alongside me. I knew that everyone I would ever meet from then on would have already met, and judged, her. I had been acquitted in a court of law, but sentenced to life by the court of public opinion as, if not a killer, then at least a slut, or a nutcase, or a tabloid celebrity. Why doesn’t she just go away already? Her 15 minutes are over.

In freedom, I had become a pariah. Looking for work, going back to school, buying tampons at the pharmacy, everywhere I went I met people who already thought they knew who I was, what I’d done or not done, and what I deserved. I was threatened with abduction and torture in broad daylight; I was threatened with having Meredith’s name carved into my body. Strangers sent me lingerie and bizarre love letters. All over the world, people believed they knew me, a warped assumption that turned me into a monster to some and a saint to others. I felt like I was always standing behind that cardboard cutout, Foxy Knoxy, saying, Hey, back here, the real me! Even most of the strangers who offered kindness and support didn’t truly see me. They loved her.

It’s hard to make friends, to date, to be a regular person when everyone you meet has a preconceived notion of who you really are, whether positive or negative. I could have chosen to hide out, to change my name, to dye my hair, and hope no one recognized me ever again. Instead, I decided to embrace the world that had dehumanized me, and all those who turned me into a product.

From the moment I was arrested, my name and face and trauma became a source of profit for news organizations, filmmakers, and other artists, scrupulous and unscrupulous. The most intimate details of my life, from my sexual history to my thoughts of death and suicide in prison, were taken from my private diary and leaked to journalists. Those journalists turned my darkest fears into fodder for hundreds of articles, thousands of blog posts, and millions of hot takes. People speculated about my mental state and sexuality, they diagnosed me from afar, they used my predicament as a metaphor, they made TV movies about me, based characters in legal shows on me, and the worst of them took every opportunity they could, while I was in prison and while I’ve been out, to shame me for something I didn’t do, to shame me for living while Meredith is dead, to shame me for being in the very headlines they write, for being in the photographs they take without my consent. The hypocrisy and the cruelty are maddening. And yet, being under that microscope has given me insight into how wrong a media narrative can be, how easy it is for all of us to consume other people’s lives as if they were mere content to fill up our Twitter feeds.

This focus on me led many to complain that Meredith Kercher had been forgotten. But whom did they blame for that? Not the Italian authorities. Not the press. Somehow it was my fault that the police and media focused on me at Meredith’s expense. The result of this is that 14 years later, my name is the name associated with this tragic series of events I had no control over. Meredith’s name is often left out, as is Rudy Guede’s. When he was released from prison in late 2020, the New York Post headline read: “Man Who Killed Amanda Knox’s Roommate Freed on Community Service.” My name is the only name that shouldn’t be in that headline.

I never asked to become a public person. The Italian authorities and global media made that choice for me. And when I was acquitted and freed, the media and the public wouldn’t allow me to become a private citizen again. I have not been allowed to return to the relative anonymity I had before Perugia. I have no choice but to accept the fact that I live in a world where my life, and my reputation, are freely available for distortion by a voracious content mill.

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There is no doubt—no doubt whatsoever—that Amanda Knox really is innocent of killing Meredith Kercher, She’s a true victim of crime, a victim of commercial tabloids, and a victim of vicious trolls.