Q&A: Why I Wrote 'The Girl Who Would Be Marilyn Monroe'

 1. What inspired you to write a biography of Marilyn Monroe

In truth, I didn't set out to write another biography of Marilyn Monroe. There have been hundreds of books about Marilyn, including some very good ones. I became fascinated instead by the girl who existed before Marilyn Monroe did: Norma Jeane Mortenson, and for much of her childhood, Norma Jeane Baker.

I wanted to know how a frightened and frequently displaced little girl, growing up without a father and with a mother unable to care for her consistently, moving through foster homes and an orphanage, became perhaps the most recognizable woman of the 20th century.

We know the ending so well that I think it has sometimes obscured the beginning. Marilyn Monroe didn't simply appear one day in Hollywood. She was created, consciously in some ways, unconsciously in others, by Norma Jeane's childhood, her loneliness, her remarkable powers of adaptation, and her determination to become somebody whom the world could not abandon.

The Girl Who Would Be Marilyn is the story of that becoming.

2. What would you say are some of the most common perceptions and misconceptions about her?

The greatest misconception may be that Marilyn was somehow inevitable.

We look backward at that extraordinary face and the white dress and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and Some Like It Hot, and we imagine that this creature called Marilyn Monroe must always have been there.

She wasn't.

Norma Jeane was shy, insecure, desperately hungry for affection and stability, and much more observant and ambitious than the "dumb blonde" mythology surrounding Marilyn would later suggest. She learned very early to study people and to understand what they wanted from her. That was partly a survival mechanism.

Another misconception is that her sexuality was simply something innate that Hollywood discovered and exploited. Norma Jeane participated very consciously in constructing the woman who became Marilyn Monroe. The walk, the voice, the hair, the clothes, even the name were parts of an identity assembled over time.

But beneath that construction remained the girl who had spent much of her childhood wondering where she belonged and whether the people she loved would still be there tomorrow.

That's the Norma Jeane I wanted readers to meet.

3. How did you research the book, and what did you learn that especially surprised you?

I approached the book as a journalist as much as a biographer, going back whenever possible to contemporary records, interviews, archival material, photographs, accounts by people who actually knew Norma Jeane, and the enormous body of material that has accumulated around Marilyn Monroe.

The challenge with Marilyn isn't finding information. It's separating history from mythology. Her life has been retold so many times that stories repeated often enough have acquired the appearance of fact.

What surprised me most was the degree to which the adult Marilyn could already be glimpsed in Norma Jeane. Not the movie star, but the emotional architecture beneath her. The fear of abandonment. The longing to create a family. The ability to reinvent herself according to her surroundings. The enormous sensitivity to how others perceived her.

I was also struck by how precarious everything was. At several points in her young life, a different decision by an adult, a different foster home, a different marriage, even a different encounter might have sent Norma Jeane down an entirely different road. Knowing what she became makes us think her life had a destination. Living it forward, as she did, there was no such certainty.

That became one of the guiding principles of the book: to stop treating Norma Jeane as though she knew Marilyn Monroe was waiting for her.

4. J. Randy Taraborrelli said of the book, "What emerges is a moving portrait of a young woman shaped by instability, longing, and an enduring search for love and safety." What do you think of that assessment?

I think Randy captured the emotional center of the book beautifully.

I was especially pleased because he understood that this isn't fundamentally a book about celebrity. It's about a young woman's search for permanence.

Norma Jeane spent much of her childhood being moved from one place to another and learning that the people and circumstances around her could disappear. She wanted what most children take for granted: a home, security, somebody who would stay.

That longing didn't disappear when she became beautiful. It didn't disappear when photographers discovered her or when Hollywood did. If anything, fame eventually complicated it.

One of the tragedies of Marilyn Monroe is that millions of people came to adore her while some part of Norma Jeane continued searching for the much simpler thing she had wanted as a child: to feel safe and loved.

So, yes, I think Randy got it exactly right.

5. What are you working on now?

Several projects, which is usually how I get myself into trouble.

I'm completing work on Pancho: Triumph and Tragedy of an American Legend, my biography of tennis great Pancho Gonzales, which Bloomsbury will publish in 2027. Pancho is another fascinating and complicated American figure, a Mexican American kid from Los Angeles who became arguably the greatest professional tennis player of his era while battling both the establishment and, quite often, himself.

I'm also continuing my interest in formative biography, looking at iconic Americans before they became the people history remembers. One of those projects is The Boy Who Would Be JFK, about the young Jack Kennedy: the sickly, often overlooked second son who grew up in the shadow of his seemingly destined older brother, Joe Jr., long before anyone imagined that Jack would become president.

What interests me increasingly as a biographer isn't simply what famous people did after the world discovered them. It's what happened before that, when nobody knew how the story would end.

6. Anything else we should know?

Perhaps only this: I hope readers who pick up The Girl Who Would Be Marilyn because they are fascinated by Marilyn Monroe finish it feeling that they have met someone else.

Norma Jeane.

There is an understandable temptation with an icon to interpret every childhood photograph and every adolescent experience as a preview of what is coming. I tried very hard not to do that.

The girl in this book doesn't know she will become Marilyn Monroe.

She doesn't know that people will someday analyze her photographs, imitate her voice, auction her dresses or argue about her death. She's simply trying to get through childhood, find somewhere she belongs, fall in love, create a home and imagine a future.

For me, that's where Marilyn Monroe's story becomes most human.

Before she became an icon, she was a girl trying very hard not to be left behind.

--Interview with Deborah Kalb

Barack Obama 2.0? Meet the Doctor Knocking on the Democrats' Door

EVERY POLITICAL PARTY HAS a recurring dream. Republicans keep searching for the next Ronald Reagan.,Democrats keep searching for the next Barack Obama.

It has become the political equivalent of Hollywood executives announcing they're looking for "the next Tom Hanks." Good luck with that. Originals have a nasty habit of refusing to be duplicated.

But every so often someone wanders onto the stage who makes people stop scrolling their phones.

This week, that someone is Abdul El-Sayed

If you've never heard of him, don't feel bad. Four years before Barack Obama became president, most Americans would have assumed he played point guard for the Chicago Bulls.

El-Sayed is young, charismatic, frighteningly intelligent, and capable of speaking in complete paragraphs without requiring subtitles, exclamation points, or conspiracy theories. In today's political environment, those qualifications alone almost make him an endangered species.

He's a physician. A Rhodes Scholar. A gifted speaker. And, perhaps most dangerous of all, someone who appears to enjoy discussing public policy. Washington hasn't known what to do with people like that since Daniel Patrick Moynihan.

El-Sayed is also the Democratic nominee to represent Michigan in the United States Senate, should he win election this fall. That would be the same political seat from which Barack Obama went on to win the presidency in 2008.

Naturally, Democrats are already asking the question.,"Is he Obama 2.0?" Maybe.

Then again, maybe we're asking the wrong question.

Obama didn't become Obama because he looked good behind a podium. America has produced plenty of polished politicians. Most wind up hosting cable news shows.

Obama arrived at precisely the moment the country had exhausted itself. Americans were tired of shouting, tired of Iraq, tired of red states and blue states and every map that looked like spilled ketchup.

His genius wasn't simply eloquence.,It was timing. He convinced millions of people that politics didn't have to resemble Thanksgiving dinner with your opinionated uncle.mThat kind of chemistry can't be manufactured in a laboratory, even by a physician.

El-Sayed faces a different America. Today's electorate doesn't merely disagree. It travels in separate universes.

Half the country gets its news from one galaxy. The other half inhabits another solar system entirely. Somewhere in between floats the poor fact-checker, waving a white flag.

That means El-Sayed isn't auditioning for Obama's role.,He's trying to invent his own.

His politics are also different. Obama often sounded like a bridge builder.

El-Sayed sounds more like an architect determined to remodel the entire neighborhood. That excites progressive Democrats.

It also gives Republican consultants enough material to keep them employed through several election cycles. Whether that's brilliance or political malpractice depends largely upon which cable channel happens to be on in your living room.

Still, there's something undeniably refreshing about watching someone who talks about governing as though governing might actually be the job.

Imagine that.

No superhero entrance. No gold-plated tower. No campaign rallies that resemble monster-truck events. Just ideas.

It's become so unusual that it almost feels revolutionary.,Of course, America has a peculiar habit of turning promising young politicians into whatever caricature cable television requires.

One side manufactures saints. The other manufactures villains.

Reality rarely survives the editing process.

Perhaps that's why comparing every rising Democrat to Obama misses the point entirely.

There won't be another Obama. Just as there wasn't another John Kennedy. Or another Ronald Reagan. Or another Franklin Roosevelt.

History doesn't make sequels. It writes new chapters.

Whether Abdul El-Sayed becomes one of them remains to be seen.

But after years of politics that often resembles a food fight conducted with billion-dollar advertising budgets, it's nice to watch someone enter the arena carrying something almost quaint.

An actual conversation.

In 2026, that may qualify as the boldest campaign strategy of all.

TONY CASTRO, the former award-winning Los Angeles columnist and author, is a writer-at-large and the national political writer for LAMonthly.org. His forthcoming biography about Marilyn’s childhood and youth, THE GIRL WHO WOULD BE MARILYN MONROE, will be published in September by Bloomsbury. He can be reached at tony@tonycastro.com.

The Legend of Doña Juana..... and the Boy Who Came Back

I HAVE SPENT THE BETTER part of the past week reacquainting myself with one of life's less enjoyable experiences: the common cold. Except this one apparently never got the memo that it was supposed to remain common. Somewhere around the third day it promoted itself into a full-fledged case of influenza and settled in like a houseguest who had absolutely no intention of leaving.

We live in an age of astonishing medicine. Doctors replace hearts, repair joints, and peer inside our bodies with machines that would have looked like science fiction when I was a boy. We have pills to make us sleep, pills to wake us up, and pharmacies that seem capable of delivering almost anything before you've had time to finish your cup of coffee.

Yet when a fever climbs high enough and you're lying awake in the darkness listening to your own breathing, something curious happens. We all begin hoping for something beyond prescriptions and technology.

For me, that grace has always worn the face of Doña Juana.

The year was 1951. Medical science was making enormous strides after World War II, but much of rural Texas still depended on remedies that had been passed from one generation to the next.

I was four years old when I made the monumental mistake of drinking from a farm well outside Waco that, as it turned out, should probably have come with a warning label.

By that evening I was violently ill.

I was rushed to Providence Hospital, where my condition grew steadily worse. Two nurses who had worked in tropical regions remarked that my symptoms resembled diseases they had encountered overseas. Specialists came and went. They consulted charts, discussed possibilities, prescribed every medication they thought might help.

Nothing worked.

Soon I was connected to intravenous fluids, growing weaker by the day.

Eventually, the doctors admitted what no family ever wants to hear. They had exhausted their options.

A priest was summoned to administer the Last Rites.

My mother could barely remain in the room. Every time she tried, she would break down in tears and have to leave.

Then my Uncle Roy quietly decided it was time to try something medicine couldn't offer.

He climbed into his car and drove about thirty miles into the Texas countryside to a tiny town called Rosebud. He wasn't looking for another specialist. He was looking for my father's Aunt Juana.

To everyone who knew her, she was simply Doña Juana.

She possessed no medical degree. She had never attended nursing school. There was no framed diploma hanging on her wall.

She was a curandera, a folk healer whose reputation had spread through Central Texas not because she advertised, but because people told one another.

She arrived at my bedside carrying no doctor's bag. No stethoscope. No bottles of medicine.

Only faith.

For the next two days she scarcely left my room. She prayed quietly, hour after hour, holding a small cross she had fashioned from dried palm leaves left over from Palm Sunday. There was nothing theatrical about her. She spoke softly, prayed steadily, and refused to surrender.

On the eighth or ninth day, something happened that no one had expected.

The fever broke.

That afternoon I managed to keep down a bowl of broth she prepared.

The next day I stood on my own legs.

Within forty-eight hours I was well enough to leave the hospital.

The doctors signed my release papers.

Years passed.

By the time I reached high school, I had acquired just enough education to become skeptical of nearly everything. Family stories have a way of improving with age, and I wondered if this one had become larger in the retelling.

So I finally asked our longtime family physician, Dr. L. D. Collins.

"Was it really true?"

He looked at me quietly for a long moment.

"Tony," he finally said, "I wouldn't have believed it either if I hadn't been standing there myself. But the truth is, Doña Juana saved your life."

Years later I asked Doña Juana herself exactly what she had been saying during those long hours beside my hospital bed.

Surely there had been some ancient prayer, some mysterious healing ritual handed down through generations.

She smiled.

"It was just the Rosary."

Then she paused.

"But between the mysteries," she said, "I kept calling in Spanish, 'Tony... come back. Tony... don't leave us.'"

I've never forgotten those words.

A few years later I drove out to Rosebud to visit her.

Her modest little house had become something of an unofficial clinic. Cars arrived throughout the day and often into the night. Families came carrying sick children. Elderly couples came seeking comfort. Others simply came because hospitals had given them little hope.

There was no sign in the yard.

No waiting room.

No receptionist.

Just an humble home where strangers knocked on the door believing someone inside might help.

I asked her one afternoon what special gift she possessed that allowed her to accomplish what trained physicians sometimes could not.

She almost seemed embarrassed by the question.

"I go to Mass every morning," she said. "Then I come home and pray."

That was her answer.

No claims of miracles.

No promises.

No talk of extraordinary powers.

Just faith.

I've spent my career interviewing presidents, athletes, entertainers, and people whose names filled newspaper headlines. I've seen history unfold from front-row seats more than once.

Yet whenever someone asks whether I believe miracles still happen, my mind doesn't travel to cathedrals or revival meetings.

It goes to a little house outside Rosebud, Texas.

And to an elderly woman who sat beside the bed of a dying four-year-old boy...

...and simply refused to let him go.

TONY CASTRO, the former award-winning Los Angeles columnist and author, is a writer-at-large and the national political writer for LAMonthly.org. His forthcoming biography about Marilyn’s childhood and youth, THE GIRL WHO WOULD BE MARILYN MONROE, will be published in September by Bloomsbury. He can be reached at tony@tonycastro.com.

Thank You, Publishers Weekly!

 

The California Lazarus: Xavier Becerra's Gubernatorial Rise From the Dead

Xavier Becerra pulled off California's most surprising political comeback to the brink of hfstory as the Golden State's first modern day Latino governor.

FOR MONTHS, XAVIER BECERRA seemed destined to become little more than a footnote in California's 2026 governor's race.

Ignored by much of the political establishment, overshadowed by wealthier and louder rivals, and even quietly encouraged by some Democrats to reconsider his candidacy, Becerra entered the year looking more like a respected elder statesman than a serious contender for the state's highest office.

Today, he stands on the verge of history.

The former congressman, California attorney general, and U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services has secured a place in November's general election after finishing among the top two vote-getters in California's primary, completing one of the most remarkable political comebacks in recent state history.

With millions of ballots still being counted, Becerra ultimately surged past Republican Steve Hilton, the former Fox News commentator who initially led in early returns. Hilton and billionaire Democrat Tom Steyer remained locked in a battle for the second spot as election officials continued tallying late-arriving ballots.

Under California's nonpartisan primary system, the two highest vote-getters advance to November regardless of party affiliation.

For Becerra, the achievement represents far more than simply surviving a crowded primary. If elected in November, he would become California's first Latino governor in the modern era, a milestone that reflects the dramatic demographic transformation of a state where Latinos now make up the largest share of the population.

"The people of the great state of California, in the greatest nation on earth, have spoken, loudly and proudly," Becerra declared after his advancement became clear. "We will not be bought. We will not be bullied. And we are never backing down."

At 68, Becerra's victory stands in sharp contrast to the modern political formula. In an age dominated by viral moments, social media celebrity, and vast personal fortunes, he offered something almost old-fashioned: experience.

The son of working-class parents, Becerra built his career methodically, serving in Congress for more than two decades before becoming California's attorney general and later joining President Joe Biden's cabinet. His campaign emphasized competence, steady leadership, and working-class roots rather than ideological spectacle.

That message resonated with many voters who were confronted with a sprawling field of candidates and remained undecided until the final days of voting.

"It was a struggle for me to choose," said Maravilla Hernandez-Perez, a 25-year-old Los Angeles resident studying to become a paralegal. Casting her ballot shortly before polls closed, she ultimately selected Becerra because she believed he had the strongest chance of prevailing.

Political analysts say Becerra also benefited from timing and circumstance.

The withdrawal of Congressman Eric Swalwell from the race amid allegations of sexual misconduct reshaped the Democratic field and created an opening for a candidate whose long résumé suddenly became an asset rather than a liability. Meanwhile, Democratic voters tended to cast ballots later than Republicans, helping explain why Hilton appeared strong in the initial returns before Becerra gained ground as additional votes were counted.

Fernando Guerra, a political scientist at Loyola Marymount University, said Becerra's measured approach may have appealed to voters weary of political theatrics.

"He is deliberate, he's experienced, and his personal style helped sustain interest in him as support grew," Guerra said.

The race was hardly free of turbulence.

Becerra endured attacks from Steyer, whose campaign spent heavily on television and digital advertising. One line of attack focused on a corruption scandal involving two former Becerra aides who pleaded guilty to diverting campaign funds. Federal prosecutors characterized Becerra as a victim of the scheme rather than a participant, and no charges were brought against him.

Other advertisements attempted to portray him as too closely aligned with business interests after organizations including the California Chamber of Commerce spent tens of millions of dollars opposing Steyer and supporting candidates viewed as more moderate.

Yet those attacks failed to halt Becerra's momentum.

Indeed, his rise may signal something larger about California politics. For years, observers have predicted that the state's growing Latino population would eventually produce a Latino governor. Becerra's success suggests that moment may finally be arriving.

The shape of the November campaign now depends on who joins him.

A matchup against Hilton would make Becerra the clear favorite. No Republican has won statewide office in California since 2006, and Hilton's association with President Donald Trump could prove a difficult hurdle in a state that remains overwhelmingly Democratic.

A contest against Steyer would be considerably more complicated. The billionaire investor spent more than $200 million of his own fortune during the primary campaign, helping make the race the most expensive gubernatorial primary in American history. Few observers believe he would spend less in a general election.

For now, though, the story belongs to Becerra.

Just months ago, he appeared to be an afterthought in a race dominated by celebrity, wealth, and political drama. Today, he is the candidate everyone must reckon with, a reminder that in politics, experience sometimes still matters and that comebacks often arrive when nearly everyone has stopped looking for them.

TONY CASTRO, the former award-winning Los Angeles columnist and author, is a writer-at-large and the national political writer for LAMonthly.org. His forthcoming biography about Marilyn’s childhood and youth, THE GIRL WHO WOULD BE MARILYN MONROE, will be published in September by Bloomsbury. He can be reached at tony@tonycastro.com.