The screenwriter of "Money Heist" debuts with a psychological thriller about despair.

Published by VR Editoras, Soma is the debut novel by Emilio Díez , recognized for his work as a screenwriter on series such as La casa de papel (Money Heist) , El Internado (The Boarding School) , and El Embarcadero (The Embarcadero ). Set in a disturbing reality, the plot delves into the darkest corners of the human psyche : failed relationships, extreme loneliness, emotional vulnerability, and the pain that often hides behind a seemingly normal life.

Inspired by real events , images that shaped the author, and consultations with mental health professionals, the novel constructs a world that is as believable as it is disturbing. In this interview conducted in Lavapiés, one of the locations where the novel is set , Díez reflects with Clarín on the roots of evil, weak ties, and the fine line between despair and violence.

–In the novel, the mind seems to be both a refuge and a threat. Do you think human beings' greatest enemy is internal?

–You could say that our greatest enemy—and at the same time our greatest ally—is ourselves. The strength with which we build our authentic selves can stabilize us or destabilize us. I think there has to be a deep personal construction, and also—as I think the novel reflects well—strong emotional relationships. Otherwise, life is very hard and ready to hit you. That strength must come from within, but also from the bonds we've created with others. We need an emotional network to sustain us.

–How much of Soma is observation of reality and how much is scientific or academic research?

–The novel is based on personal interests and everyday observations. I usually take notes on things that shock me or catch my attention. There were two facts in particular that stood out to me: the suicide rate in Spain—4,000 people a year—and how easily we can be manipulated today, whether through financial scams, cults, or political discourse. From there, I began to build the story. I consulted psychiatrist friends who guided me on manipulation mechanisms, personality tests, psychological processes... The visual aspect draws on cinema, like The Ring, with disturbing images that, although seemingly unrelated, generate great unease.

–The suicides in the novel are more than a narrative device; they seem to speak to a collective emptiness. Did you want to reflect on contemporary desolation?

–Definitely. It's a very serious topic that I addressed with the utmost respect, especially given what's happening in Spain. Suicide speaks to a widespread pain, often invisible until it becomes a reality. And that has devastating consequences for the community. There's a collective responsibility, a fragility in relationships, the negative effects of social media—which have been studied—and a false sense of invulnerability. I was deeply influenced by Lola López Mondéjar's book, Invulnerables e invertebrados (Invulnerable and Invertebrates), which suggests that we live in a society where we believe nothing affects us, but at the same time, we lack an internal structure to sustain us.

–There's a constant sadness that floats through the characters. Do you think we're living in a particularly dark time?

I'm moderately optimistic, but I understand why it can seem like a dark time. We have higher expectations than ever, and when reality doesn't meet them, we get more frustrated than previous generations. My parents knew life was going to be hard; we believe anything should be possible. That difference creates a very strong shock. My wife is a doctor, and she tells me that many people suffer from very serious things, and others suffer from normal issues that they simply can't process. We're not prepared for the complexity and uncertainty of life.

–Have you considered adapting the novel to an audiovisual format?

–Yes, I come from that world. I've been working in television for 25 years, where the first commandment is "don't bore." I keep that idea in mind when I write. Although I conceived Soma as a novel from the beginning, in the process I saw that it could become a series, because of its twists and turns, how one idea leads to another. I tried to combine my audiovisual experience with a solid literary structure.

–There's a latent question in the book: Are human beings inherently destructive? Do you believe, like Hobbes, that man is wolf to man?

I want to believe that light is stronger than darkness. But I also believe we can be both victims and executioners. Our nature includes a side we don't always want to look at. In the novel, there is an evil figure, but his actions also touch on a certain poetic justice. Society asks us to turn the other cheek, but sometimes someone wants to take justice into their own hands. That satisfaction you sometimes feel when the one who hurt you suffers is still latent within us. Soma is inspired, in part, by a true story: a doctor who poisoned her son after years of abuse. I found it outrageous that justice had abandoned her, and she gave me permission to include her story.

–What do you think about the concept of “evil” in human nature? Does it exist, or is it all a social and emotional construct?

–I think evil is part of our nature. Throughout history, violence has been very present. Although today it seems like there's more violence, the likelihood of dying violently has never been lower. Before, it was brutal. In ancient communities, it was common to sacrifice whoever caused conflict. It was automated, normal. Now it's sublimated, delegated to institutions, but it still exists as an impulse.

–Soma is also the name of a drug in Huxley's Brave New World. Is there an intentional reference?

–Absolutely. It's a direct reference. Drugs in Huxley's novel served to numb people, to disconnect them from their emotions. I found that idea useful when talking about a world that's numb, where we avoid truly feeling.

–Arregui and Aisha are two broken characters who find themselves in the midst of chaos. Do you think the most powerful bonds are built in the cracks?

–Yes, they're both in crisis, but in different ways. That allows them to bond in an unconventional way. I like that there's not a typical love story between them, but rather something more complex, one of caring and mutual support. They move from attraction to caring, and that makes their relationship special.

–Aisha experiences a radical duality: life and death in a single day. How did you conceive this brutal contrast? What interested you in exploring in her?

Aisha was born from an image: a doctor wearing a headscarf when my daughter was born. I imagined her story as a second-generation Spaniard, with an interesting identity dilemma. In the novel, she receives the news of her parents' death and, at the same time, learns she's pregnant. That tension between life and death runs throughout the novel. Motherhood can also be stabilizing, and I was interested in exploring that emotional ambivalence.

–What questions did you ask yourself as an author while writing?

–The first was whether I would be able to write literature after so many years of working in audiovisual fiction. The second challenge was that I didn't want to write just a drama. I wanted complex characters, with conflicts that made me think beyond the plot.

–And what are these conflicts that appear in Soma ?

–The widespread vulnerability, the inability to maintain healthy relationships, and the difficulty in seeing the suffering of others. I'm concerned that more and more teenagers have serious problems and that we don't know how to detect them. Social media hides real conflicts. This emotional disconnection, this inability to understand others, is central to the novel, beyond its detective storyline.

–What would you like the reader to take away after reading the novel?

–I hope for two things, which aren't mutually exclusive: that you enjoy the novel, that it's easy to read, but that it also leaves a mark, that it isn't easily forgotten. I'd like to reach a wide audience.

Soma , by Emilio Díez (VR Editoras).