Chapter 4 MARCEL
Chapter 4
M ARCEL
He had done it. He had finally allowed his arm to be twisted and created a Twitter account. On two conditions. One: that, at the slightest sign of conflict, he would close it down. And two: that he would manage it himself; no communications managers paid for by the agency. He would publish whatever he pleased, when he wanted, and at whatever frequency he chose. Alex was not entirely in agreement, sensing that his client’s brusque demeanor would give him no shortage of headaches, and he told him as much.
“You push me to the edge of the cliff, and now you don’t want me to jump?” Marcel complained.
“You have to be diplomatic on social media and you ... Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re about as subtle as a brick. Perhaps you could let a PR professional guide you a bit?”
“Who do you think I am? Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady ? No way, Alex. Either we do it my way or not at all. That’s my final offer.”
End of discussion.
The next day, Marcel created an account on Twitter with the username @InvisibleBlack. For his profile picture, he used a black-and-white photograph of his treasured Underwood Number 5 collector’s edition, purchased from Gramercy Typewriter Co., Paul Schweitzer’s iconic store. Things got slightly more complicated when it came to filling out his biography, which only allowed one hundred and sixty characters. Crime author with Baxter Books. Creator of William J. Knox. Fourteen-time New York Times bestseller . Translated into twenty-five languages. Library Journal ’s Man of the Decade. Shortlisted for the National Book Award sounded as pretentious as the resume of a recent Ivy League graduate. And it was too long to fit. Instead, he selected his favorite William Faulkner quote.
Since no one had any business knowing his birthday was in August and that he lived in New York, he omitted that information. He clicked “Create account” and ... voilà.
Welcome to Twitter, @InvisibleBlack!
This is the best place to see what’s happening in your world.
Let’s go!
The first thing he did was follow the main progressive American newspapers—he was tempted to add the Times-Picayune to the list, but that would give too many clues as to his place of birth—before adding Shapiro Literary Agency, Baxter Books, The New York Review of Books , and Publishers Weekly , and finally, a select group of writers who were active on the network, including Stephen King, Bret Easton Ellis, Don Winslow, Patricia Cornwell, and Chuck Palahniuk. None of the accounts followed him back immediately. He looked at his new timeline but found nothing of interest.
So, he decided to publish his first tweet.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 1s
I’ve succumbed to the unfathomable attraction of this social network. In my defense, I’ll say I was forced to.
He waited the requisite minute. When he checked and nothing had happened, he got out of his chair and left his study with wounded pride.
He spent the next few hours in his designer chaise longue, immersed in reading Galveston , by Nic Pizzolatto, pencil in hand. The bad—or perhaps good—thing about being a writer is that you stop reading purely for enjoyment. He didn’t put the book down until he had finished it. It was no masterpiece; on the contrary, it was sensationalist and riddled with clichés. Even so, it had kept him hooked until the final page, which was one point in its favor. He removed his glasses, placed them on the rosewood coffee table, and rubbed his eyes vigorously. It was past nine when he stood up. As he stretched, he contemplated the cityscape through the large windows. From that height, Manhattan seemed enveloped in a kind of ethereal calm. Beyond Central Park, the buildings rose from dusky shadows that suggested intimacy. Sometimes he missed New Orleans. The omnipresent jazz, Cajun food, Mardi Gras, the Saints games, the democratic joyfulness of his native city, and even the stench of putrefaction, like decomposing matter, that characterized it. And of course, his sister, Charmaine. The nostalgia was short-lived though. Because in New York he could be somebody (Marcel Black) and nobody (Marcel Dupont) at the same time. Life moves so fast in the city that never sleeps—an undeniable fact—that the urban chaos somehow guarantees privacy. The Big Apple was the perfect place to stand out and hide away at the same time. His rumbling stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten for several hours. This tended to happen whenever he got caught up in a book. Perhaps that was the great power of books: making people feel like they weren’t completely alone. He was in no mood to cook, so he decided to order in. When he picked up his phone, he saw a message from Alex.
Alex
You’re the fucking best, man
It took a moment to register what he was seeing.
“What the . . .”
Marcel Black was trending on Twitter.
Not only had he gained thousands of followers in a matter of hours, but celebrities from the world of literature and entertainment had been talking about his unexpected appearance on social media.
Marcel couldn’t help but laugh. All this commotion over a stupid tweet that wasn’t even that clever? He called Alex.
“What does the manual say about replying to all these people?”
“Hmmm ... in an ideal world, you would reply. Leave it for now though. Although you really should say something to Letitia Wright. Something nice,” he emphasized.
“Who?”
“Letitia Wright.” Silence. “Don’t tell me you don’t know who she is.”
“Should I?”
“Well, yes. Letitia Wright is the wife of the Democratic senator Rufus Wright and one of the most important literary influencers of the moment.”
“Impressive,” said Marcel, not remotely impressed. “And why exactly should I waste my precious time on a politician’s wife?”
“You really ought to call her a literary influencer. Referring to her as the wife of sounds terribly chauvinistic.” Marcel rolled his eyes. His agent’s obsession with political correctness was trying his patience. “Just take a look at her profile, and it will all make sense.”
He ended the call and did as Alex had suggested. Apparently, Letitia Wright had asked which of two books she should read next. One was his and the other ... by a @siobhan_harris. And it seemed Mrs. Wright’s interest wasn’t the only thing he and this Siobhan had in common; they also shared a publisher.
With Fate on Our Side , he read on the cover. He snorted and shook his head. “I can’t believe Baxter Books is publishing this kind of garbage.”
Siobhan Harris’s biography was most revealing.
New Yorker. Dreamer. Reader and emerging writer of romance novels. Formerly on WriteUp.
“Oh, a rookie.”
He clicked on her profile picture and studied it closely. Long coppery hair, blue eyes, delicate features, a television-commercial smile. He had to admit she was attractive, a classic American beauty, although physical appearance wasn’t something that impressed Marcel. Scrolling through her timeline, he learned that she had just published With Fate on Our Side and that the launch had taken place that very evening at McNally Jackson. A resounding success, by all accounts.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 27m
Thanks to everyone who came today. I don’t know how to express my gratitude. It was incredible, a dream come true!
Marcel stuck his fingers in his mouth, pretending to vomit. He returned to Letitia Wright’s tweet and saw that the newbie had replied.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 9h
What a wonderful surprise, Mrs. Wright! I’m so honored that you would take an interest in my book. And since you’re open to suggestions, I would say start with Marcel Black. Sweets are best saved for last. #CrimeAndRomance
That really pissed him off, though he didn’t know why. Okay, he did know why. First, he hated people who used those ridiculous emoticons to communicate. Second, the fact that a work by him—Marcel Black, no less, critically acclaimed fourteen-time bestseller, translated into twenty-five languages—should appear next to a third-rate romance novel made him sick. Mrs. Wright might be highly influential, but she didn’t have a goddamn clue about literature. How could anyone compare his work to that of a rookie? And what the hell was the deal with this novice princess? Sweets ah bey-uhst saved fuh lay-uhst nah nah nah ... He would bet his right arm that she couldn’t string a sentence together. She must have gotten lucky for some agent with a keen sense of smell to take an interest in her, exploiting the commercial gold mine of that corny, superficial trash for bored women; one of those mawkish pieces of junk about the redemptive power of love and that kind of horseshit. “Romance novel, my ass.” He didn’t need to have read any of them to discern their literary quality.
Which was precisely zero.
Offended as he was, he decided to counterattack. To hell with Alex’s tips about courtesy. He wrote:
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 1m
Too many sweets are bad for your health. #CrimeNOTRomance
Sent.
He had been gentle.
Although he hoped that changing the hashtag would cause the impact he wanted.
“Let’s see if you get the irony, princess.”
Harris responded immediately, of course. She must be a slave to hyperconnectivity who spent all day glued to her smartphone, exposing before the murky spotlights of social media the vacuousness of her millennial New York life—what she ate, how she dressed, which trendy bar in the Village she had gone to the previous night, or which must-see series she had watched on Netflix, as if any of those banalities were of the slightest interest.
Frickin’ Generation Y.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 6s
I’m not sure blood is much better. #NOTCrimeBUTRomance
Crime no, romance yes? Well, well, well. Perhaps he had underestimated this young romance novelist.
“You like to play, huh? Very well, let’s play.”
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 9s
Blood is for adults. Go play with your dolls and come back when you’ve grown up. #CrimeNOTRomance
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 30s
I’m not sure I understood that one.
Marcel’s lips curved into a contemptuous smile.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 10s
Reading comprehension is a basic requisite. Didn’t the article mention that?
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 6s
Sorry, which article do you mean?
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 10s
The one called “Top 10 tips on how to become a writer overnight (number 8 will surprise you)”
His reply had been crude, but he was damned if he wasn’t going to enjoy this war of words. As he waited for the newbie to answer, he went to the living room and poured himself a bourbon from the bar. Back in his study, he noticed that his cell phone was lighting up with an incoming call from Alex. He rejected it. He wasn’t interested in hearing what he had to say right then; and anyway, he already knew.
The reply came at last.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 1m
I think you’re a troll.
Marcel snorted.
“Is that the best you can do?”
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 3s
I’m no troll, I’m Marcel Black.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 5s
Well, that’s a pity. I never would have imagined the mysterious Marcel Black would turn out to be some obnoxious guy with a superiority complex who’s cruel to his colleagues.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 15s
Colleagues?
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 10s
Is this gratuitous attack because I’m a woman?
Second call from Alex. Once again, Marcel ignored it. A moment later he received a text message:
Alex
You have to stop. NOW.
He turned off his phone. He would deal with the consequences of this little game some other time.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 1m
It has nothing to do with you being a woman. I simply believe we do things very differently. Mine is literature and yours is ... entertainment?
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 1m
Who are you to decide? Seems very presumptuous to me. Anyway, what’s so bad about entertaining people?
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 3s
Nothing. As long as you realize you’re not going to change the world.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 0s
And of course, you are.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 3s
I don’t write to give people escapism but to make them reflect on human nature.
“Christ. Even I found that painful.”
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 1m
You must think I’m stupid just because I write romance novels.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 10s
I don’t know you. I don’t know whether you’re stupid or not. What I do know is that we’re not on the same level. My novels are noir; yours are pink and fluffy. The difference is clear even if you’re color blind.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 6s
Your joke is ridiculous and offensive to people with color blindness. And it’s “romance novel,” if you don’t mind, “pink fluff” is not a flattering term.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 1s
I wonder why that is.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 10s
You haven’t read much romance, have you?
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 2s
I assume that’s a rhetorical question. OF. COURSE. I. HAVEN’T.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 5s
Then what the HELL is your basis for suggesting it’s a lesser genre?
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 1m
Do you need to touch boiling water to know that it scalds?
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 30s
Oh, please. That’s such a disingenuous argument ... Make a bit of an effort here. Given how much you know about human nature and all that.
Marcel laughed and shook his head. Touché, he thought.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 1m
What’s up, Mr. Black? Words failing you? It’s clear you don’t know what you’re talking about. It just so happens I grew up reading romance novels so at least I DO KNOW.
“Calm down, princess. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
He took a swig of bourbon and cracked his knuckles as though preparing to go into battle.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 1m
Very interesting. And have you ever read a REAL BOOK, or is your ample literary knowledge based on Barbara Cartland trash?
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 1m
A bit of respect for Barbara, please. She published more than seven hundred novels over the course of her long life. And if by “real book” you mean noir, I confess that crime isn’t my thing, either real or fictitious.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 45s
And sugar isn’t mine.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 3s
That’s certainly clear. Perhaps you should try some.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 10s
No thanks, I’d rather die.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 1m
Since when has evil been more appealing than love?
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 1m
Since the dawn of time. The world and its customs are still governed by ancestral rules that can’t be changed. Love as a sentiment doesn’t exist. It was invented in twelfth-century lyrical poetry to keep the nobles entertained.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 9s
Not only do you have no face, you have no heart.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 15s
Of course I have a heart. And it beats like clockwork, precisely because I steer clear of sugar.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 6s
Better to die from stabbing than from diabetes, I suppose.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 1m
Naturally.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 1m
Your prejudices won’t make me ashamed of who I am, however many books you’ve sold. I like romance novels because I believe in love. Don’t you watch the news? People need hope.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 45s
What a load of bullshit. What people need is good stories. Hope is for the sick.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 10s
Define “good.”
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 2s
Anything not classified as romance.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 25s
It’s pointless trying to talk to you. It’s like all the dark and twisted stuff you write has poisoned the way you see the world.
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 1m
Things aren’t black or white. We live in a scale of grays that are so indistinct from each other that even the best among us can be susceptible to committing the worst offenses.
Siobhan Harris @siobhan_harris 1m
For my part, I prefer to focus on the brighter side of life. My novel might not change anything, nor do I expect it to. I’m happy just to know that someone out there will go to bed with a smile on their face. #NOTCrimeBUTRomance
“My god! How corny!”
Marcel Black @InvisibleBlack 1m
I’m glad your aspirations are so low. It’s more realistic, given the circumstances. Literary quality aside, crime novels will always be superior to romance. Evil is an intrinsic part of the human soul. That’s what makes the world go round. GROW UP, Miss Harris. #CrimeNOTRomance
At this point, Marcel felt the conversation was over. To carry on would be a waste of time. Perhaps he had gone a little too far, but he had to put this insolent child in her place. He drained his bourbon and stretched his neck. His Twitter notifications were starting to go crazy, but he ignored them; he had had enough for one day, more than he could bear, in fact. Then, just as he was about to sign off, something caught his eye, like a typo in a billboard ad.
The influential Letitia Wright had reappeared on the scene.
Letitia Wright @letitia_wright 15s
This is what I call a good show.
Letitia Wright @letitia_wright 11m
I understand that everyone defends their favorite genre to the hilt, BUT neither is better than the other, they’re just different. In fact, they could live happily side by side in the same story. #CrimeANDRomance
Letitia Wright @letitia_wright 10m
And to show I’m right, I want to propose a challenge: Why don’t you write a novel together that’s noir and romance rolled into one? I’m one hundred percent sure it would be a hit #CrimePLUSRomance