Camila Mendes is shifting that narrative. You likely recognize her from rom-coms like "Palm Springs," "The Perfect Date," and "The New Romantic" - and she's starring in and serving as an an executive producer for the new rom-com film "MAosica," which also stars and is directed by her boyfriend, Rudy Mancuso.

"As much as we love rom-coms from the '90s and early 2000s, things have changed, and that doesn't mean that you have to like overtly make like a woke rom-com, but I think it's more about just finding ways to make them more interesting and grounded to the experience of finding love today," she says.

Indeed, "MAosica" broadens what it means to be Latine on screen - with a much-needed depiction of the Brazilian American experience specifically. The film follows Mancuso's character, also named Rudy, as he navigates the trials and tribulations of family life, romance, and career decisions - all while living with rhythmic synesthesia. This rare neurological condition causes one to experience more than one sense simultaneously.

The film is based on Mancuso's reality, where he turns to music as the solution to everything. It charts his own upbringing, and uses the Ironbound neighborhood of Newark, NJ, which is home to many Brazilians, as a backdrop.

Mendes stars as Isabella, Rudy's love interest. What makes her role in "MAosica" so special is the authenticity of her own cultural background as a Brazilian American. It's also her first time taking on a role that allowed her to draw on her own heritage directly, and she even gets to speak Portuguese, in which she's fluent.

"It was an opportunity I had been waiting for my entire career, and I honestly wasn't sure if I ever was going to get that opportunity," Mendes says. "I thought I was going to have to create it myself. I had plans to [create something myself], but this project was ahead of the curve, and I was like, 'What a dream come true to finally, you know, play my authentic culture instead of having to pretend to be a different [ethnicity other than my own].'"

Mendes emphasizes the need to open up the way Latines are represented in these films, as well as the importance of centering Latines of all different backgrounds.

"We've seen so many rom-coms and we've seen a lot of played-out scenarios, and I think it's just nice to get a fresh take and bring in a cultural element that normally you don't see in those rom-coms," she says.

It's clear that Hollywood continues to miss out on culturally specific elements when telling our stories. But true representation is more than just having us in these rooms; it's about making sure the characters and scripts that are green-lit capture the nuances that truly make our communities what they are.

"I just know that I have a responsibility to my culture that I gladly take, and I put it on myself because there aren't many of us in Hollywood to tell that story that have the ability to get projects made," Mendes says of her responsibility to amplify broader narratives of Brazilian culture on screen. "I'm going to use my power to that advantage and help get the industry to a place where this can be a more regular occurrence."

As she solidifies her place as a Brazilian American rom-com sensation, Mendes acknowledges there is still room for evolution when it comes to these films. And she wants to see Hollywood subvert the genre in new ways that are compelling.

Still, Mendes can appreciate the legacy of rom-com classics. She can narrow her favorites down to two: "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days" and "Along Came Polly." She feels the latter doesn't get the credit it deserves. As for her all-time go-to Jennifer Lopez rom-com, the Latina OG of the films, she goes with 2001's iconic "The Wedding Planner."

Coming off the heels of the release of "MAosica," Mendes hasn't found time yet to slow down. But running around with a packed schedule is what keeps her motivated.

"Sometimes it's a good thing, you know, when you're staying busy through something like this, it keeps you in the moment. I think it's easy to get carried away focusing on what people are saying and how they're responding," she says. "Even though, luckily for us, it's all very positive - but there's something really nice about just pushing through and carrying on with your life because there's still more to do."

There is always something to do for Mendes; her latest work has included a partnership with the Italian Aperitivo Aperol at Coachella. She says it was very special to bring to life.

"Aperol spritz is a drink that my best friend and I always drank together. When [she and I] were roommates, we had a summer ritual where I would go grab an orange from the orange tree [in my backyard] and she would make us some Aperol spritzes," she shares. "I associate the drink with that experience of spending quality time with my best friend."

Even though her best friend couldn't attend Coachella with her this year, Mendes says she was there in spirit. Mendes, for her part, does plan to take a moment to slow down and take the success of "MAosica" in. And as the Latine community's new rom-com queen, it seems fitting that she's also able to celebrate the film's success with her onscreen and real-life love interest, Mancuso.

Horror has always been a part of my life, so it felt natural for me to work on a book like "The Black Girl Survives in This One." My two brothers were obsessed with the genre and I was one of the youngest siblings, so it mostly fell on them to babysit me. As with most older siblings, my brothers lived to tease me. Everything was a joke or a moment to terrify. So it was natural for them to invite me to movie nights where we would watch films like "Candyman" (1992) featuring Tony Todd; "Child's Play" (1988), where a white man uses voodoo to transfer his soul to a doll to escape the police; "Night of the Living Dead" (1968), directed by Bronx native George A. Romero; and "A Nightmare on Elm Street" (1984). While these movies scared the crap out of me, I found myself facing my fears head-on, to not only prove to my brothers that I could handle whatever they threw at me but to prove to myself that I could stare in the face of danger and survive.

Once I overcame my fears, I instantly started to love the gore - the jump scares were my favorite too. I became obsessed with how the actors, the movie scores, and everything played into the fear of everything. Horror is a genre where we can explore the things that freak us out, that don't make sense, and that play on our fears. I've always found courage in watching these movies, and when I discovered slashers and the "final girl," I longed to be one.

"The Black Girl Survives in This One" is an anthology collection of short horror stories, from ghost stories to zombie stories, from writers like Monica Brashears, Vincent Tirado, Zakiya Dalila Harris, Maika and Maritza Moulite, and others. It also includes a foreword written by the horror luminary Tananarive Due. There's something for everyone in this book, and at the end, the main character - a Black girl - survives the horrors of the day. The bigger message we wanted to convey to readers, especially Black girls, is that despite the serious obstacles you may face in this life, you are strong enough to endure, survive, and still come out on top. We are not our fears, no matter how society might try to tell us otherwise.

While I love the horror genre, it has not been kind or inclusionary for Black, Indigenous, Latine, and other people of color. So I was inspired to write myself into the genre, to pen a story that featured a Black Latina who is fierce and equally loves the horror genre. In my short story, "Cemetery Dance Party," I pay homage to all of the folks who sparked my love for horror, from Michael Jackson's famous hit song and music video "Thriller" to Romero's "Night of the Living Dead." It was the first movie where I saw a Black person survive the horror of the undead, only to be shot by a white person at the end. That scene stayed with me. It's haunting to believe that as a Black person, you could escape zombies, but you can't escape white supremacy.

My first book, "Wild Tongues Can't Be Tamed," was a nonfiction anthology that examined diverse aspects of Latine identity, subverting myths and stereotypes about our cultures, and a dialogue on addiction, racism, and anti-Blackness within our community. It featured essays from bestselling and award-winning writers like Elizabeth Acevedo, Ingrid Rojas Contreras, Naima Coster, Natasha Diaz, Janel Martinez, and others. I was eager to continue the identity conversation and amplify Black voices across the diaspora. So it was an easy decision for me to want to tackle horror next, which has been so exclusionary for Black folks and people of color. After having a Zoom conversation with my coeditor of the anthology, Desiree S. Evans, we decided to center Black girls and have them be the "final girl" trope we've always wanted to see more of in cinema and books.

The process was pretty similar to my experience with "Wild Tongues Can't Be Tamed," but this time, we thought it was important to host an open call to discover new voices in horror. It was amazing to receive so many submissions; there are a lot of talented writers out there just waiting for the publishing industry to give them the opportunity to tell our stories.

Writing and editing "The Black Girl Survives in This One" was healing for my inner teen self, who went through so much in high school; at times it felt like I wouldn't survive the pressure of making new friends, balancing schoolwork, and prepping for college courses. Writing my short story "Cemetery Dance Party" was very nostalgic because I got to write myself into a horror comedy story I always wanted to see. The story follows Alle, an Afro Latina from the Bronx who loves track but was recently injured and is healing so she can get back on the team and bring home the win for her squad. She's also class president and tasked with hosting the senior class party. She decides to host it at the famous Woodlawn Cemetery, and well, it's the perfect setting for chaos to ensue among teenagers with raging hormones and alcohol. Alle and her friends go through the gauntlet during the night, but she survives at the end, and that's all that matters.

This is such an important read for Black women - including Latina readers - because we never get to see ourselves in genres like this. Just look at how all of the best shows that represented us were canceled, from "Lovecraft Country" to "The Horrors of Dolores Roach." Even though those shows were badass, networks still decided that nobody could relate to Leti in "Lovecraft" and Dolores, but the twist is we did, and we wanted more. I want readers to know that they matter; they belong in horror, and "The Black Girl Survives in This One" is only the beginning of us inserting ourselves in the genre to come out on top as the heroes we deserve to be and see ourselves as!

Selena Quintanilla was born on April 16, 1971, and grew up in Corpus Christi, TX. She was an Aries, a sign often described as "passionate, brave, and headstrong." Indeed of conforming with the mAosica Mexicana artists of the time, she paved the way for herself by proudly embracing her Chicana identity. With influences like Whitney Houston, Janet Jackson, Jody Watley, and Gloria Estefan, Selena pushed Tejano music forward and made the genre fresh and palatable for listeners beyond Texas. Into the late eighties, the singer became the top Tejano artist in a genre that men previously dominated. At the Tejano Music Awards, she won best female vocalist and female entertainer of the year for 12 years straight.

After conquering Texas, Selena was ready to take on the world, and she signed with the label Latin EMI in 1989. From there, she released the most iconic albums of her career, including 1990's "Ven Conmigo," 1992's "Entre a Mi Mundo," and 1993's "Selena Live!," which earned her a Grammy award at the 1994 ceremony. She also became the female Tejano artist to win in the Best Mexican/American Album category.

That year, she released the last album of her lifetime, "Amor Prohibido." The LP yielded four No. 1 hits on Billboard's Hot Latin Songs chart. Soon after, she made history as the first Tejano artist to reach the summit of Billboard's Top Latin Albums chart.

On March 31, 1995, while Selena was preparing her first English-language album, she was tragically murdered at the age of 23 by Yolanda SaldAvar, a close friend of Selena's who ran her fan club. Since then, Selena's family, including her father and manager Abraham Quintanilla, have kept her memory alive through several posthumous projects. In July 1995, the album "Dreaming of You" was released, which included her English classics like the beautiful title track and the haunting "I Could Fall in Love With You." After her death, Selena continued to make history with the first Latin album to debut at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 chart. In 1997, her family authorized the "Selena" biopic, which featured Jennifer Lopez in the star-making role. Through the endearing movie, the world fell in love with Selena and saw how she was just like any other Mexican American trying to find her place between worlds. It's a story that still resonates with Latine folks in the US today.

It's important to note that Selena's music and image belong to her family, and they have a right to celebrate her legacy as they please. In the following years, Selena's family hosted memorial concerts like Selena A!Vive! in 2005 and Fiesta de la Flor in Corpus Christi, where her fans could unite in her honor. There was the Mirador de la Flor monument of Selena in Corpus Christi and a Netflix series later followed. There were also brand deals that Selena's fan base loved. In 2016, MAC worked closely on a Selena makeup line with her sister, Suzette Quintanilla. Due to a high demand for cosmetics, MAC released a second capsule collection in 2020.

While these are great ways to give back to the fans who are keeping her memory alive, Selena's family has also been criticized for cash-grab moments that fans perceived as disrespectful to Selena. For example, in 2022, the family released the remix album "Moonchild Mixes," in which Selena's voice as a child was manipulated through studio technology to sound older. Amidst the discussions of the ethics of creating a project in her name in that way, the L.A. Times' Fidel Martinez called it a "Selena robot album."