I chuckled.
“Excuse me,”Melanie Joan said.
I turned to her. “Okay, look,” I said. “I’m sorry you got a bad review, Melanie Joan. But come on. You’re a successful author. Doesn’t that kind of thing come with the territory?”
“This is different,” she said.
“How?” Spike said.
Melanie Joan took off her sunglasses. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, dark circles visible beneath layers of concealer. I’d never seen her look this unphotogenic. “Book Babe has more followers than anyone on ReadAnon,” Melanie Joan said. “That’s power. Real power.”
“You’re tougher than this, MJ,” Spike said. “It’s just a review.”
“A horrible review,” she said. “Did you read it?”
“People are assholes,” I said. “Especially when they can be anonymous about it.”
“Did youreadthereview, though? It doesn’t just trash my writing. God knows I’m used to that. It trashesme, Sunny. It brutalizes Melanie Joan Hall, the human being. It took a lot of courage for me to write a memoir. You put something personal out there, you expect a little common decency from someonewho calls themselves a critic, butno…” She went on for a while. A long while. I waited for her to take a breath.
“Pardon my ignorance, Melanie Joan,” I said. “But what does all of this have to do with Spike and me?”
She stood up and took one of my hands in both of hers. Her grip was viselike. “I need you to track down the person behind the Book Babe account,” she said.
I blinked at her.
“I have to talk to her. Him. Whatever. I must get Book Babe to listen to reason. Say something nice about me. Or my life as an author will be over. I won’t be able to show my face anywhere.”
At long last, she let my hand go. She grasped her knees, deep-breathing as though she’d just finished a marathon. I stared at her. A million thoughts ran through my mind, the top one beingMy God, she’s finally lost it. “Melanie Joan,” I said, as gently as I could. “Don’t you think you might be overreacting?”
“You don’t understand,” she said.
“Sure I do,” I said.
“You don’t,” she said. “You’re a Luddite. Your dog has a more active social media presence than you.”
I was starting to get annoyed. “Look, your book isn’t coming out for months. People have short attention spans. One bad ReadAnon review can’t tank your entire career, no matter how important you think this Book Babe person is.”
“You don’t get it at all,” Melanie Joan said.
“Maybe not,” I said. “But there are things I do get, andthey’re called the right to privacy and freedom of speech. I’m not going to dox a private citizen for you, just because they’ve typed some mean things about your book.”
Melanie Joan looked at Spike imploringly.
“Sorry, MJ, but I agree with Sunny,” Spike said.
She started to make the sound again. I asked her to stop. She did. It was a small victory.
“If you don’t dox Book Babe,” Melanie Joan said, “my career is over.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I’m telling you the truth. Bookstores are already canceling their orders.”
“Seriously?” Spike said.
“Why?”I said. “It makes no sense.”
Melanie Joan put her sunglasses back on and collapsed onto Spike’s chair again. Spike and I sat down on the couch against the wall and waited for her to answer. For several seconds, the room was silent, save the gentle sound of Rosie’s snoring.
