“What?” Melanie Joan said.
“She just signed a five-book deal with Scepter. It hasn’t been announced.”
“Un. Fucking. Believable,” Melanie Joan said.
“My point is, Book Babe was one of her first champions,” Woodrow said. “Donnelly was self-published. Reclusive as can be. No social media presence whatsoever. But then Book Babe posted a five-star review of a book of hers calledThe Heartbeat Chroniclesand it became an instant bestseller. Like it or not, that’s power.”
“I’ve still never heard of her,” I said.
“Look, there isn’t any way to soften this,” Woodrow said. “Barring some type of miracle, we’re pulling your memoir.”
Melanie Joan gasped audibly.
“What does that mean?” I said.
Again with the awestruck face. “We’re pausing publication,” he said.
“Really?”I said.
“For now,” he said.
Melanie Joan gaped at Woodrow. “How can you do this to me?” she said. “After all I’ve done for you?”
“I’m truly sorry,” Woodrow said. “But it isn’t my decision.”
Melanie Joan’s lip trembled. “You were…You were an editorial assistant when I met you. A child. I…I made your entire career.”
“A child?” I said.“Him?”
“You’d never know it to look at the two of us today,” Evan Woodrow said.
“No,” I said. “You definitely wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, well. I work at my appearance,” Melanie Joan said. “Evan doesn’t have to because he isn’t a public figure.”
“You work at everything,” I said. “It’s one of the things that makes you one of the truly great writers.” I glanced at Woodrow. If what I’d said had registered at all, those sunny-side-up eyes didn’t show it.
Full disclosure: That thing I’d said about reading all of Melanie Joan’s books had been a lie. Years ago, I’d dipped intoA Girl and Not a God, but I hadn’t been able to make it through the first chapter. That didn’t matter, though. What had always impressed me about Melanie Joan Hall—what I stood in awe of—was that she didn’t care whether people like me read her books or not. She knew her audience. She respected them. And every day she worked hard to reach them, entertain them, satisfy them.
“Who knows?” Woodrow said. “Maybe when BookBabeGate dies down, we can reconsider…”
“Oh, shut up, Evan,” Melanie Joan said. She stood up. She picked up her hat and opened the door.
Melanie Joan left Evan Woodrow’s office. I followed her out.
“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” Woodrow called out as I closed the door, “but this new breed of critics. The TikTokers and the online reviewers, Book Babe especially. They wield the sword.”
“Wield this,” I said. I was pretty sure he didn’t hear me.
Melanie Joan didn’t say a word until we were in the elevator and the doors had closed. “I guess you’re off the hook,” she said.
“No, I’m not,” I said. “I’m going to find Book Babe for you.”
“But it doesn’t matter,” she said. “Evan said—”
“Evan can fuck right off,” I said.
Melanie Joan turned to me, a smile on her face that could melt hearts, change minds, and sell books by the millions. “That’s my girl,” she said.
