#Amy's Rain Review

[washipink]

Rain by Jocelyn Samara D Year 1: 2010-2011

erSo I recently found out that 1 year ago, a comic that was INCREDIBLY important to me as a trans middle schooler who went to catholic school had wrapped up. This year, I’ve decided I’m going to read through and review Rain by Jocelyn Samara, 1 year of the comic’s run at a time. First up: Year 1, which covers Chapter 1 (The New Girl) through Chapter 6 (Fallen Angel). I’ll be summarizing the story and characters for those unfamiliar, so feel free to follow along.

There’s a LONG-ASS post under that read more. If you have any experience with the comic or enjoy the post, please talk about it with me. It’ll be a good time.

Year 1 Summary

The star of the show is Rain, a transgender 17 year old girl who moved in with her Aunt Fara after her mother’s death. It starts on the first day of her senior year of high school, the first time she’s ever tried to pass as female in front of... anyone???

Based on some of the language used in the character bios, I should be very clear that this comic is from 2010 and written by a trans woman who is most likely older than most of my followers. There may be language used that you personally don’t agree with. I’m not a fan of being called transsexual myself, but there’s nothing wrong with saying it.

Anyway, the basic gist is that Rain passes EXCELLENTLY and attracts a lot of attention from her male classmates, much to her dismay.

But the men aren’t the only people with their eyes on Rain. Lesbian classmate, Maria and her fake boyfriend, Gavin make a bet of 5 United States Dollars out of who can talk to Rain first.

Here’s the rub: During Role, Gavin seems to recognize Rain’s last name. It’s the same as his childhood best friend, Ryan. Gavin and Maria then banter a little bit, jokingly saying “what if that IS Ryan? could ya believe that?”

Little do they know...

One thing about Rain is that its cast of characters is by no means infallible. Even characters that I came to love, like Maria, are kind of insensitive. Just about no one in this cast has ever MET a trans person in their lives prior to Rain. It’s very true to life in that way. You meet a lot of people that are ignorant or accidentally insensitive. And sometimes, they learn to stick up for you.

The realistic portrayal of how trans teens can be treated by other teens is one of my FAVORITE things about Rain.

Anyway, Gavin brings up Ryan Falherty to Rain, which causes her to panic and run away.

And Crash Directly into the fifth member of our main cast, RUDY!!!!

A rather gossipy gay boy that sees up Rain’s skirt and thinks she’s just a REALLY brave gay dude. He tells Gavin and Maria pretty much right away and Gavin does not take it well. The majority of Year 1 is spent on Gavin and Rain repairing their strained friendship after years apart from one another. That begins here, with Gavin confronting Rain about her identity.

Gavin’s super upset about the whole deal, but Maria and Rudy are some of Rain’s biggest shooters going forward. Even if they can ask a LOT of invasive questions.

If I’m being completely honest, there’s no MAJOR developments in Chapter 2. Fara gets a call from Rain’s older Sister about how their older Brother hasn’t talked to either of them in forever. This lays a few seeds for later events, but it is PRETTY unimportant for a while. There’s some really good emotional dialogue in it though.

In Chapter 3, Rudy’s meddling directly causes Rain and Gavin to reconcile. They have a discussion about how the reason she never told him was just that she was scared to lose her only friend.

MEANWHILE, in an attempt to make some actual friends, Fara reaches out to her neighbors and meets Ky(lie) and Heather Coven, a Gender Ambiguous Teen who goes to a different high school and her less approving older sister.

Kylie, also known as Ky, swaps gender presentations incredibly frequently, not really showing any bias for one or the other. So do not expect me to be consistent with their pronouns. Their gender is kinda messy. Almost like he’s some kind of... real person with a real life gender. Crazy.

Anyway, Fara invites them over and she and Heather get drunk, which means she can’t pick up Rain from the mall. Rain needs a place to sleep that night and Gavin invites her to stay with him.

This begins Chapter 4, in which Gavin and Rain realize that things may be different from when they were kids... but there’s a lot that hasn’t changed. Gavin remarks about how much more feminine Rain is than when she was a kid and how that’s WEIRD for him... but they end up playing a game from their childhood pretty much all night. It reminds them of all the good times and ignites within them the hope that they can have MORE good times going forward.

As an adult with friends I’ve had on-and-off relationships to, this speaks to me way more powerfully than ever before. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

The next day, during her hangover, Fara sees Rain’s older brother on an ad for a dating website with his new fiance.

And on the way back to her apartment, Rain meets Ky for the first time. Neither one of them is aware that the other one has ANY kind of Gender going on and they won’t be for quite some time.

The chapter ends with Aunt Fara telling Rain about what happened with Aiken.

Chapter 5 is a simple one, Popular prep girl, Emily is giving out invitations to a Halloween party for her “perfect senior year”

Everyone but Rudy gets one, which causes Maria to give Emily a talking to. She assures Maria that he wasn’t intentionally excluded and it definitely wasn’t because he’s the only openly gay student in the whole school.

Oh, also a dude beats Rudy up for that exact reason, earning Maria’s fury later on. Rain invites Ky to come with the rest of them to the party.

Like I said, pretty simple chapter.

The last chapter of year 1 is Chapter 6: Fallen Angel.

Everyone is showing off their Halloween costumes before they leave for the party. Rudy’s reads as a bit insensitive to rain, as he goes as.... a high school girl.

We’ve all heard this one, right? young queer person that wants to toy with their gender expression uses a Halloween costume as an excuse? It can hit different watching your friend do this when you’re a stealth trans person and especially when you’re one as self-conscious as Rain.

When they reach the address for the party, they find out that Emily... has an older Boyfriend. Like, a WAY older boyfriend. Who lets all these literal teenaged children drink at a party in HIS HOUSE.

also he’s dressed as the devil in case you needed any more signals he was BAD NEWS.

This sounds like a good time for an aside: Fara is on a date with someone she met online. He works at a manga translator and offers to get Rain a meeting with her favorite mangaka.

Meanwhile, at the party, Chase seems to recognize Rain from somewhere. What could this mean?

Anyway, remember how I mentioned the underage drinking? Yeah, Rudy is HELLA drunk. And the results are not pretty.

The whole school sees this and is... BAFFLED. Because of course, Rudy is gay. how could he kiss a girl? Did he do it because he was dressed as a girl? Was it the alcohol? was RAIN Gay? Who knows?

The chapter ends on Rain riding home in tears.

Thus ends the first year of Rain.

Art

Ok, let’s talk about the elephant in the room. This art is... not too impressive. Every character looks like they jumped out of a How to Draw Manga book and Rain’s design is VERY 2010. Backgrounds are infrequent and many panels feature just 2 characters next to each other against a flat color.

But I think that’s okay. While the visual design of Rain is not immaculate, it’s certainly passable. Samara had a story to tell and she didn’t let her art hold her back. She just took pen to paper and let it go. As the comic goes along, you can tell she’s trying different things and experimenting with drawing a variety of poses. That said, the art style never really changes at all during the comic’s run.

Pure Unfiltered Story Opinions

Rain was one of the first real queer stories I’d gotten a chance to read. At the ripe, young age of 12, every word of it was unreal to me. A girl like me made REAL friends in spite of it all and got to be who she was. And now, reading it again, it really holds up.

Rain has a depiction of queer friendships that’s very true to a lot of peoples’ lived experience. Not everyone GETS each other, but they try. Sometimes, they ask a stupid-ass question. Sometimes, you get into fights. 

Also, sometimes people in your high school get prayed upon by creepy weirdos in their late 20s who think they can get easy tail from CHILDREN. (Trust, people. This gets addressed. This is NOT a fucking glorification and if anyone in the notes says it is, they’re blocked.)

I look forward to seeing where the comic goes from here and I hope you’re ready to take that journey with me.

#Rain Webcomic #Jocelyn Samara #lgbt comics #Transgender #Webcomic #Amy's Rain Review #Long Post #lgbtq #queer art

[putting-gourmand-in-restaurants]

Would Gourmand join me for a bite at flaming Amy's burrito barn in NC

“Man, these burritos are great! I like the BBQ chicken nachos.”

- Gourmand

#gourmand’s eating out today #rain world #rain world downpour #rw gourmand #slugcat #gourmand’s restaurant reviews #flaming amy’s burrito barn

[ramonathinks]

5 Husbands by @kingkonoha review contains spoilers under the read more

playlist of a lot of songs that i think fit the vibe of my reading experience and what i felt matched up with the story

Playlist: crack rock by frank ocean, dreamer and valentine by laufey, when im in your arms by cleo sol, ophelia by pinkpatherress, daydream by Ariana Grande, miss romantic by cleo sol, fall in by Esperanza spalding, rain by fauna hues, slow motion by karina pasian, sunshine cleo sol, k by cigarettes after sex, used to love by chloe x Halle, sunset by the internet, pain is inevitable by daniel caesar (fawk him), cinnamon girl by lana del rey , let me know by winona oak, lost by frank ocean, butterfly by corinne bailey rae, piano song by eryn allen kane, float by fauna hues, how does it make you feel by Victoria monet, ivy by frank ocean, step on me by the cardigans, sad girl by lana del rey, wet by dazey and the scouts, frank’s ballad (wiseman) by Alex mankoo, who gets your love by margie joseph, what it is, between the cheats, will you still love me tomorrow, the girl from ipanema by amy winehouse the entirety of amy winehouse back to black album, take the box by amy winehouse

General Review:

Just wow. I did in fact spend like all day reading this and I do not regret it and even though it’s not done… this is literally a 5/5 read. Firstly the way that my baby Tay writes is so phenomenal and the depictions of the relationships and the amount of emotions and thought they she puts throughout the story makes everything so worth it. I really felt so attached to the characters and the overall story like i didn’t care how long the chapters were because i was so interested in the world she build and the CHARACTERS. Like it just keeps getting better and better; the amount of drama and messy that kept me on my toes every chapter. I cannot wait for the next chapter. The amount of stuff that went down in this fic and the route it’s going down idek how she got the life depicted in the first chapter because it’s shit happening every second like whew. I literally got so emotional reading this especially the more recent chapters because my heart hurtssss for reader so bad and it’s just so much strain on her and idgaf that’s my girl! I support women’s wrongs and she got a lot of them but that’s my baby like omg!

Now let’s delve in to my reactions ofc 🙈

CHAPTER 1: okay so obsessed with the fact that reader has a daughter firstly. The way you describe reader’s relationship and the dynamic she has with Armin and even the shift to his pov was very seamless and perfectoooo. The way you got in his head and i feel immersed inside of his thoughts about her and i just thought it was really well written and so beautifully executed. “Being with you but not truly being with you was like having an itch that begged to be scratched.” Like that line right there? It burneddd me and make me feel for him and overall i got invested. Can I add that Armin working in a bakery was very on par with his character lol? Like i love it. Your description of anything is very addicting as well let me add, im a sucker for details so i loved it. I was cheesing DOWN during their moments and when he took her to their childhood hangout place and the hold “date” bit came up and the “but even so, the implication of romance with him felt as natural as breathing.” Likeeee omg i was blushing. “I was always planning on leaving, but…not without you.” Oh that moved me like bad. I’m a sucker for childhood friends to lovers and hearing them reminiscing and just wanting to move out of where they are to make a lifeee was so good. “Since when was he ever so lucky? Since when did fate decide to show him a little bit of pity and mercy? The universe had taken everything from him before he was even old enough to know how to spell the word “universe.”” UGHH you’re killing meeee. And then armin’s backstory stop 😞😞😞. WHEN ARMIN SAID HE WANTED TK MARRY HERRRR OH MY HEART like 😭 crying omg!! Munch Armin Agenda >>>>

Mikasa Cameo yesss. Armin sending reader money 🥲🥲 even though he’s literally going through it ugh, my loveee. The proposal and reader finally getting her steak & lobster please love that for themmmm. Eren… pmo!! … “What they loved more, however, was the fact that he never took his eyes off of you the entire time.” 😄😄😁😁 oh okayyy, don’t know who im rooting for after eren two second cameo. “Nowadays, you had seen more of him than your own husband, and that broke your heart into pieces.” Naurrrrr 🥲 please… ““Is it ‘cause we’re all alone, baby?”” Eren… ERENNN R YOU KIDDING ME MOVEEE like moveee “Can’t control yourself when it’s just us, can you?” MOVEEE

“If you were with me, you’d only be making money for yourself. No one else, baby. It’ll take you wherever you wanna go, buy you whatever want, fuck you however you want. You’d like that, right?” OH FAUK YEWWW, but … omg that’s sexy like please don’t piss me off😭😭

OH FAWK HERR??? FAWK HER MY GODDESSS IS READER SERIOUS RN?? FAWK HER SO BAD FOR THIS IDC

CHAPTER 2: “It was an indisputable fact; scientists measured the elements of his face and declared the handsome man as the literal definition of physical perfection.” Oh that ate !

Eren defending reader yesss #RealMan . “Still though, it’s Eren. Same man who took you away from the person you’re writing about. There’s no way he’d be okay with this.” Jean clocked her im sorry LMAOO??

“You were more than just a pretty face. You were more than just a lovely voice. You were a distraction.” Real… so real.

“You’re such a damn jerk,” Jean snapped. “You can’t take everything you want like you rule the goddamn world, Eren. You stole her away from her ex-husband, but no one’s allowed to steal her away from you, right? Not until you get tired of her and move on to someone else?” CLOCKED LMAKDKA CAUSE WHY WAS I LITERALLY THINKING THE SAME THING LIKE PLEASE MOVE LMAOOO

“Is it true that your ex-husband pushed for your success? And you left him for Eren Yeager?” JEAN MIGHT AS WELL THAT BEEN THE ONE TO ASK THAT BECAUSE INTREEVIEWER CLOCKEDSD HER ! Marriage 😞 please move 👎🏾 why they just pissed me off. J-JEAN ! SIR!!

“Well now, Sarah, there is the possibility that she could have been having an affair! She did leave her first husband for Eren. Who’s to say that she wouldn’t leave Eren for someone else?” THEY CLOCKING HER 😭😭😭😭😭😭 back to back!

Reader locking down all the munches like that’s queen right there! “It was the first time you had ever slept next to him without his arms wrapped around you.” 😞😞 and Jean leaving the band omg… Levi so real lmaoooo

JEAN SO MESSY??? EREN COMING OMG?? EREN ACTUALLY BEING THEREEE OH MY GOSH PLEASE MOVE!!! “But, apparently, all of it was stupid. He felt stupid as he stood there, watching his best friend kiss and touch you. He felt stupid as he thought about the day he proposed to you. He felt stupid as he thought about how much he loved you.” Naur… MY GOSH READER SO ??? she done pissed me off!

CHAPTER 3:

Mikasa clocking her 😁😁🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️ karma x3 and “i want him back” and “that’s not the same thing” LMAOO CLOCKED! LIKE GOT HER

“I didn’t even know that Eren was there! He was avoiding me for weeks a-and said he wasn’t gonna show up. I fucked up, I know that, but he stopped speaking to me. Stopped looking at me. He acted like I didn’t exist…and I was fucking lonely.” She kinda ate idk she back to winning me over. FAWK EREN 😭😭😭

Levi…is he crazy telling her to come with him?? 😭😭😭 like he finna get fucked up about her too is he MAD? “You’ve fooled around with three guys back to back. It’s a little hard to tell which one of them you like the most.” FUCK CLOCKED HER SKSJSK ?? “You’re a homeless woman who’s sleeping at her manager’s house because she cheated on a famous rockstar with his bandmate.” Levi it’s 10am in the morning 😭😭😭😭 please chill. “Last thing I need is for the public to start making rumors about us.” He so damn funny lmaoo

“Yes. Men like Eren and Jean took pure advantage of your naiveness. If you ask me, you should have been the one doing the punching. Don’t sit back and let them walk all over you.” Okayy Annie period queen.

“The singer with more failed relationships than original songs.” 😭😭😭 i be giggling down like the industry is clocking herrrrr bad

Annie and Sasha correct actually 🤷🏽‍♀️ coming from the uno champ myself. “Did I just make you laugh? And smile?” 👀 he better relaxxx he see the reader effect !

Not even divorced and literally got a meeting and kissing on Reiner like 😭 is she mad??

CONNIEEEE??? I AINT EVEN PWEP

“Gonna punch me too? Try it. Go ahead. Do it, and let’s see what fucking happens.” CLOCKED! Lmaoooo

Hickey… why i already knew something like that was gonna go down. Broke my baby heart omg 😞!

“If you loved him, you wouldn’t have cheated on him. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have left me. So you’re still fucking lying.” Armin just came back and clocking her lmaoooooo “I think it’s easier for you to act like you’ve never cared about anyone than it is to take responsibility for your actions. It’s less painful to pretend that you’re completely the victim in this situation than it is to accept that you broke my heart. Eren and Jean’s heart as well. I’m not saying that anyone is in the right or wrong, but I know you. I know you loved me, even if it was just a little bit.” Tea… like girl it’s okay.

CHAPTER 4:

Connie is crazyyy 😭😭? “You know your life is in my hands” & “don’t make me do some easy shit” OHH he crazy

Marco…. Yo?? And they wondering why Connie went mad like be serious.

Arminnn, glad to see he okayish. “You never thought he’d use it on you.” Welllll?? The love of his life fucked him over 😭😭😭 um be serious.

“I love you, and I understand what money and influence can do to a person, but I just miss you. I miss the old you, the person who made everyone laugh during card games and didn’t treat everyone like garbage.” 🙂🙂🙂 ohhh he clocked her this like one of the worst ones.

“No ordinary human being enjoyed the realization that they had changed for the worse. It felt like your insides were twisting up, as if the old version of yourself was begging to come out, buried underneath this new, shallow, perfect celebrity.” ☹️☹️☹️ nooo queenie.

“You’re so in love with Hollywood now, I didn’t think you’d come at all if I told you the truth.” 😟😟 oh um! this is crazy to say ?? why even invite her at all lmaoo??

Reiner’s place is so lived in and loved around like your description really got me cause I can feel it all around and buzzing so lively whew i felt home! Reiner is EXACTLY the type of man who would bring you to meet the family and to propose so i smiledddd because yes just yes!

Jean messy as HELL! THE BREAK IN IS CRAZY AND HER JUST ASSUMING ITS ARMIN

HER SUCKING LEVI IS CRAZY???? MARRIED FOR HALF A SECOND IS SHE MAD?? LEAKED PHOTOS AND ALL THAT IS CRAZY AFTER THE BREAK IN OMG??? 😭😭😭 she cannot catch a break, she been famous for like maybe 2 years what is her problem.

CHAPTER 5:

ARMIN AND EREN GETTING JUMOED BY CONNIE MEN IS SO INSANEEEE. Levi OKAYYY king shitttt yesss. Why is Connie so messy?? Why is he trying to ruin her like omg…

“Y/N’s the only client you give a damn about now. You don’t even give a damn about yourself. Your life is ruined, and yet, here you are, worrying about her.” CLOCKED LMAOO?? JEAN BE CLOCKING EVERYONE LIKE LMAOOO

Album called Heartbreaker, she kinda mother for that 😹😹 like literal queen shit. The story… my eyes almost popped out my head like okay.. Not jean and eren popping out yo! Um Connie and Flint is so…messy for all this. They really getting a personal fuck you.

😹😹 Eren just clocked Flint like I hope he don’t get beat up later but he ate. OH MY GOSH?? What the fuck is wrong with Connie yo?? He can’t hate eren this bad like he’s literally a monster….

NAH READER STFU?? BEFORE HE GET SOMEONE TO WHOOP YOUR ASS TOO LIKE OMG?? BUT WHY SHE VERY MUCH SO CLOCKED HIM LIKE IM GIGGLINGGG 😭😭😹😹 GET HIM AGAIN!

Someone gotta kill Connie like wtf is his problem and to even threaten Levi and the way he doing reader, not even letting her see Reiner… like i feel for her so bad omg. Why is he ruining her lifeeee omg ?? Like im finna cry ??? And then to do that to Reiner :((( omg i feel for everyone in here omg

NAH CAUSE LEVI RIGHT ACTUALLY?? LIKE CONNIE IS LITERALLY OBSESSED WITH HER!

Them being worried about who she gonna end up with is kinda crazy like she being held hostage 😭😭? Thank you Levi for getting them back in order. WHY REINER JUST CLOCKED ALL OF THEM LIKE LITERALLY ALL OF THEM LMAOOOO

CHAPTER 6:

ERWIN JUST FUCKED EVERYTHING UP ??? YO??

“She doesn’t have any loved ones, just a bunch of stupid guys hoping to crawl into bed with her. That’s all she’s good for.” Alright?? Fuck you??

CONNIE SHOOTHIM HIM IS MADDDD OMG

The car ride having me on the edge of my seat just paragraphs in. Connie trying to do small talk like please move…

“Because that would mean leaving, and you knew better.” I’m crying like idgaf she don’t deserve none of this 😭😵‍💫😵‍💫???

“Really? You’re working on your eighty-seventh marriage and you wanna lecture me about being a good person? You cheat and get remarried every season, so shut the hell up.” He tried to clock her but it’s tired at this point so 😭😭😭 please gtfo. Connie trying to be lonely too he can get out like i really dgaf.

Nah Reiner clocked it… I wasn’t even seeing Mikasa fr until he just said that because yes I can see it fr! Like wowww. This Mikasa and Reiner conversation is >>> like i love it.

Poor reader like idgaf, she did that to keep them safe obviously! Why would Jean just say that to eren tb licking connie’s boots like his mom’s life was at risk please ??😭😭😭

THE ENDINGGGG OMG??? I canttttt

#໒꒰ྀི⸝⸝ɞ̴̶̷ ·̫ ɞ̴̶̷⸝⸝꒱ྀི১ tea time

[broadwaydivastournament]

Broadway Divas Tournament: Round 1C

Tyne Daly (1946) is one of two Divas on our list to win a Tony for portraying possibly the greatest role for a woman in musical theatre. That's right. Mama Rose in Gypsy (1990). She has also received nominations for Rabbit Hole (2006) and Mothers and Sons (2014), and has a long and illustrious stage career. Owing to a hospitalization just days before she was set to begin previews in Doubt: A Parable, Tyne had to withdraw from the production. She was replaced by Amy Ryan, and is on her way to a full recovery.

Tony-winner Katrina Lenk (1974) and The Band's Visit (2018) was a breath of fresh air in an otherwise lacking season. Much of her early career was on the regional stage. Broadway credits include Indecent (2017), Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark (2012), and the gender-swapped Company (2022) which did not earn her the best reviews, but personally I was fine with it. The Band's Visit also earned Katrina a Grammy and a Daytime Emmy.

PROPAGANDA AND MEDIA UNDER CUT: ALL POLLS HERE

"Devastated that Tyne Daly had to pull out of Doubt. It's a major loss to Broadway, especially since she could have been the only theatre veteran nominated in that category. Tyne's an old broad that brings the best from a bygone era. She's got sixteen Emmy nominations to her name, and six wins. But I don't know if I can forgive her for being why Angela doesn't have at least one."

"This woman has some of the hottest, dykiest photoshoots I've ever seen. Just look at her. Her cheekbones are too perfect to be believed. Her performance in The Band's Visit was so fucking gorgeous, and you know, I wasn't too bothered by her Company either. And it considerably improved during the course of the run, so props to her. I got to see it with the rain twice, so that was also exciting. Plus, she's kissed a lot of women on stage and screen, so that's a win in my book. (Though not in Company, even though Bobbie was almost bi (with a Jenn Colella Marta, can you believe what they robbed us of?)"

#broadway #broadwaydivastournament #broadway divas #musical theatre #tournament poll #tyne daly #katrina lenk #round 1c

[allamericansbitch]

Hi everyone! Here’s the newest addition to my Creator Shoutout Series (january 1 - january 8)! For info about the series, I explained it in the first post here, but generally, it’s to show appreciate to editors and their creations that i love from the past week. To track this series or look at previous shoutouts, please check out the tag on my blog *creatorshoutouts. Have a great week everyone!

taylor swift: the great war gifset by @georgesezra​

sza: kill bill graphic by @studiorinagraphic​

succession gifset by @humanveil​

taylor swift: midnight rain music video gifset by @rogerhealey​

stranger things: jopper gifset by @petersevan​

scream 2023 gifset by @glendoll

taylor swift: lover music video gifset by @cherryslips​

wednesday icons by @olivias-cooke​

the menu + letterboxd reviews gifset by @trashcora​

taylor swift: new years day edit by @notmuchfordancing​

glass onion gifset by @buffysummers​

abbott elementray gifset by @naiey

taylor swift: speak now (taylor’s version) concept design by @castlescrumblingtv​

lucy dacus: please stay graphic by @ourobores​

only murders in the building gifset by @trueloveistreacherous​

taylor swift gifset by @amessageinbottles​

101 dalmatians (1961) gifset by @naiey​

pearl (2022) gifset by @slained​​

taylor swift gifset by @tayloralison​

glass onion gifset by @kitherondale​​

gilmore girls gifset by @paramores​​

taylor swift: i knew you were trouble/maroon gifset by @soaheadofthecurve​

the menu: margot gifset by @zen-coleman​

pride & prejudice gifset by @stars-bean​

taylor swift: evermore redesign edit by @ohgaylor​

brooklyn nine nine gifset by @jakeyp

taylor swift: ivy art by @fountainpensongs​

the menu: tyler gifset by @peterparkcr​​

​stranger things: eddie munson gifset by @kingofscoops​​

taylor swift: lover photoshoot gifset by @treacherous​

confessions of a teenage drama queen gifset by @bakerolivia

taylor swift: the eras tour graphic by @ohgaylor​

paramore: this is why graphic by @killrockstar​

the princess diaries gifset by @stydixa​​

taylor swift: fearless (taylor’s version) gifset by @castlescrumblingtv

get out gifset by @anyataylorsjoy

taylor swift: lavender haze graphic by @tossedkeys​

selena gomez: my mind & me gifset by @selenaigomez

taylor swift art by @you-can-face-this​

brooklyn nine nine: jake and amy scrapbook gifset by @levetan​​

stranger things: nancy wheeler in season two gifset by @olivias-cooke​

heartstopper: charlie and nick gifset by @simon-eriksson

taylor swift: red gifset by @santaswiftie @newrcmantlcs

the menu: margot gifset by @nancywheelor

glass onion: birdy jay gifset by @duchessofhastings​​​

taylor swift: haunted gifset by @santaswiftie​ @starsbythepocketful

the office: the ultimatum gifset by @chestnutsroasting​

taylor swift: pantone shades of green gifset by @santaswiftie @felicitysmoak​

the menu gifset by @mike-mills​

taylor swift: stars by the pocketful graphic by @missegyptiana

wednesday: season two gifset by @yenvengerberg​

taylor swift: fifteen x midnight rain parallels gifset by @reputation

glass onion: helen brand gifset by @antifandor

taylor swift: bejeweled gifset by @endiness

glass onion gifset by @lemoncupcake

taylor swift: getaway car graphic by @cellphonehippie

the perks of being a wallflower: you’re on your own kid gifset by @highqueendreamgirl​​​​​​​​​

taylor swift: question? graphic by @andichoseyou

legally blonde gifset by @naiey​

taylor swift: lavender haze gifset by @lovestory

brooklyn nine nine: jake and amy gifset by @glendoll​​​

#*creatorshoutouts

[cutegirlmayra]

Prompt:

Before Amy could even take her self-discovery trip and share the story of love that even trumps time itself... her car broke down.

Sitting on the side of the road, she was texting the girls, telling them the trip just wasn’t happening today.

That virtual-scape had done a number on her in many ways... the Koco’s story never left her mind... and all of a sudden... her favorite flower had changed, too.

She started noticing them... more often.

She reached out to a magnazine with an article she had written up about the experience and her own personal thoughts, but that backfired... serverely.

Many were calling her view of love to be ‘foolish’, ‘idealistic’, ‘too traditional’. “what does that even mean!?” She frustratedly rose her shoulders up with her hands gesturing out, looking back at the phone at all the reviews it had gotten.

“I should have never let them take my photo...” she lowered the phone a bit... before hitting the button to turn the screen off... for now.

She put it against the side of the car and leaned back to let her head rest against the dead machine... “... I bet Sonic never has to deal with breakdowns...” Her eyes watered up. “I bet... his little engine just keeps on going... never ending... never wavering... in what he knows is right.” she rubbed her eyes with her arm, before... her strength gave and she slid down the side of the car.

“What am I even doing here?” She began to cry, sobbing into her glove as the other hand’s back rested against the ground with little to no energy left to hold the phone anymore. She just cried... it felt somewhat good to do so... She had wondered what the rain on that island felt like... the one Sonic had experienced while she was all... digitlized.

She looked at her hand over her eyes... solid, not glitching in or out.

“Am I...” she started, getting emotionally caught up again against her better judgement, and feeling the weight of her words buldge at her throat and block themselves from escaping, somewhat. As though... the greatness of those words kept expanding... Before she finaly pushed them out of her mouth to bring her breath back from being obstructed, “Am I even meant to tell the story... of never-ending love..?” She began to doubt her feelings for Sonic, his feelings towards her... She could remember him holding her back from trying to warn the Koco that it wasn’t safe, but she kept pressing on... she didn’t care about danger or stupid reviews online... she just wanted to be with him.

“Am I... being selfish?” That sunk deep into her being.

“Of course not.” she told herself, moving her three bangs up and sniffling towards her raised arm. “I’m just hopeless... without Sonic... without love... Who even am I?”

“Well, last time I checked-” 

She gasped at the familiar voice, turning around.

“You were Amy Rose, right?” Sonic smirked as he wagged a knowing finger out from behind the car. “Tails called,” he held up another phone. “And no, this isn’t my phone.” He chuckled, “No numbers here to grab, I’m afraid.”

“Sonic...” she breathed out, her eyes bending in absolute relief at seeing him.

But then...

She looked at herself, sitting on the ground like a hopeless romantic and idealistic wanna-be of Romeo and Juliet.

She patted her face and got up, speedily. “W-what... well, good. I’m glad.” she smiled to him before turning her face away, looking up and blinking her eyes fast, “Whooo...” she lightly whispered, trying to get her emotions under control while Sonic watched her with a knowing look in his eyes, but just happily started to move under the car.

“Something on your mind?” he asked, which immediately led her to stop pacing away and drop the act that she was tough and okay. She turned her head back to him, wishing with all her might he’d just... act like she needed him again.

“You could give me a hug if you already knew.” she had spoken it all out loud, like a... well, she wasn’t an idiot, but maybe like a crazy person. “How long were you here..?”

“The whole nine yards.. ow!” From under the car, Sonic’s hand appeared out and flicked itself, “Darn bolts and gears...” He muttered to himself and tucked the hand back under. “You got any tools in there, by chance?” He pointed to the trunk.

“O-oh, yeah.” she started to open the back, “You’re... You’re really able to fix it?” she asked, getting it out and closing the back as she looked to where the hand once appeared, having seen him slip under as though going down a slide... he was goofy like that.

“Should be. I made a plane, after all.” Sonic reminded her that Tails’s biplane was originally his own, and she ‘Ah’d in rememberance and nodded, relieved it didn’t seem the car was too badly broken.

Her pride... on the other hand...

“Here you go.” she placed the red toolbox down beside him.

“No, nah, nah, stop. I need ya to hand them to me.” He waved out a hand and then did the universal sign with his fingers for ‘gimmie gimmie’ by crunching them up a few times. “Tinkering takes time. Let’s fix this mess. Ummm... first tool I need. Repentance.” he joked.

She laughed, “Oh brother, I forgive you for making me wait so long.” she rolled her eyes, opening the tool box.

He snickered, “I meant for thinking you could change the world all on your own.”

She paused... her eyes widening slightly.

“... Nah, you need a good helping hand for that. Kinda like how I can’t fix this car without you, Amy. ... Also, screwdriver, wrench, and crowbar, please.”

She just... handed him the tools, but afterwards, he took her hand, “Come on down here, I wanna show you something.”

She wasn’t used to Sonic giving her ‘life lessons’ but something in her got excited that he was even trying to!

She didn’t hesitate at all, she just moved under the car and laid beside him as he was fiddling with the pipes under the car. “Sorry, it’s a bit grummy under here.” he showed her his hands were covered in black, and she giggled slightly.

“Is that why it’s a man’s job? Cause we like our gloves clean?” she joked.

“Heh, no one can keep their hands perfectly clean.” he started to tighten something up, “There we go, that’s what we were looking for.”

“Really?” She asked as he gritted against the turning cog.

“Uh-huh.” He confirmed, “You see... sometimes, screws get loose, cogs need tightening,... gas leaks out and we lose all motivation to go on.” He continued his work as Amy stopped watching his hands and looked towards his face.

“You do everything you can, but there’s rocks on the road ahead. And there are many roads, and the maps aren’t always made in stone-Ow! Emmm...” He glared at his finger, apparently, getting squeezed in on something and flicked it a few times like before, what she saw when he stuck his hand out from the under the vechile. “We have tires, but they wear out and need replacing. We have ideas and goals in mind... but every now and then, we find ourselves stuck on the side of the road, in the middle of a forest, with a bunch of crappy signals we desperately cling to just to read bad comments about ourselves.”

She remained silent, her lip a tight line, her hands coming together, but everything in her heart was clinging to his words... desperately... wanting an answer...

“Life is never an easy road, Amy. Changing and growing... learning about ourselves, what are ideals are, and trying to inspire others will always take-YEOW! Mother Earth!” He bit the side of his hand, having hurt his finger again. “Hammer.” he held out his hand to her.

“The tools are-” she reached up... before realizing what he meant. “Oh.” she summoned her Piko Piko Hammer.

He took a quick glance at it and then looked back to where he was working, “Smaller.”

She re-summoned it.

Another quick glance before looking away.

“Smaller.”

“Oh, come on.” she made it bit-sized and he took it, angling it just right...

“Annnnndd...” he turned it in his hand. “There!” he gave it a light tap and the knob went right into place super fast. “Lickeysplit.” he chuckled, then held out the hammer for her, “We need help. We need people. If we look outside ourselves, we tend to the find the answers deep within... LIke within this bucket of bolts!” he elbowed the car, letting out a gust of air. “If you really want to find yourself, discover more about love, and figure out your course Amy... You can’t just tough it out and cry alone.” he turned the hammer around with a bit of manipulation of his fingers in one hand and then let her take it.

“I do want to hear all about it.” He interwined his fingers and let them rest on his belly, looking to her, “Doesn’t mean we have to be that far apart, though... right?”

She had been so worried... so worried that her experience of self-discovery and action would pull her away from what she loved and cared about most...

She wrapped her arms around him and he rested his head to return the hug, before they both climbed out from under the car.

“It’ll run alright now.” he tapped the side of the vechile, as Amy crawled out and he stood up straight. “Hand.” he stated, as though still asking for a tool.

She smiled, “In hand.” she gave him hers and helped her up from the ground.

They stared at one another for a moment, both smiling with the rays of a glowing admiration and ‘liking’ in each of them... before Sonic let go of her hand, “Eh-heh, well, you um-” he cleared his throat, then coughed cause the black stuff was still on it, and now just got into his lungs. He hacked a second as he spoke, “G-Going back on the-” he coughed, “R-road? Ehem.” he pounded his chest a moment, but felt a little nervous all of a sudden... why was that?

“O-oh, yeah.” she looked to the car... then rubbed her arm. “I think... I think I can now... run alright, too. Hmm.” she blushed with a cute affirmation that she understood what he meant. With another hug, she quickly rushed to the driver’s side. “Bye, Sonic! I’ll tell the girls to meet me soon, that the trip is back on!” she waved him a cute and energetic farewell, “And I’ll be sure to tell you all about what I find out and learn, wait for-!” she stopped a second, realizing what she was about to say.

As though Sonic was waiting for that, he stepped aside and into the forest a bit, putting his hands on his hips, smiling as he remained respectful...

‘It’s your call, Amy...’ he said in his mind, but his words rang true from his heart to his eyes... which she could clearly read now.

Her hand was out on the door,... not having closed it yet as she had already entered the vechile.., one hand on the wheel.

“... Wai...” she realized... this was her asking him to wait on her love.

He folded his arms slowly... softly... still waiting for her to officially say it...

‘You decide your own course.’ he took deep, mediative breaths.

She was asking him to let her go... to not help any further than this from now on.

“... Wait for-” she teared up, “Me.” she stated, “The ‘Me’ I want to be... and will be. For love,... and all that comes with it.” She nodded, though her strength was depleted after that.

He nodded, being serious about this ‘technical farewell.’.

“Till the long time we see each other again... Amy.” He rose his head up.

She said it.

She was free of her crush, she could go where she pleased...

But she covered her mouth and sobbed as she turned on the car and didn’t look back, driving away.

“I will always love you... Sonic The Hedgehog...” she looked in the rearview mirror, as he never stepped back on the road... but remained on the side near the forest...

He lowered his head down.

Then the rain came...

And he looked up slightly, smiling.

“I... really wished I could have shared an umbrella with you, then... Amy Rose.” he gazed up at the storm clouds as Amy continued to sob as she drove on in her newly enriched spirit and fixed-up car.

“... I really wish... I could have told you sooner.” he closed his eyes, at peace.

She’d be back... and with one heck of an adventure to tell!

#sonic frontiers #cutegirlmayra #sonamy #sonamy frontiers #frontiers!sonamy #sonamy prompt

[krispyweiss]

Song Review(s): Phil Lesh & Friends - “Cosmic Charlie,” “They Love Each Other,” “The Promised Land” and “Box of Rain” (Live, March 15, 2024)

For those who love Phil Lesh, the poignancy of the former Grateful Dead bassist singing “Box of Rain” on stage surrounded by relative youngsters on his 84th birthday was obvious.

His atonal baritone now raspy, his movements ginger, Lesh sung a fast-paced rendition of the song written for his dying father flanked by his son, Grahame, and guitarist Daniel Donato, and accompanied by Jason Crosby on keys and John Molo on drums while vocalist Amy Helm awaited her turn off stage. Forever searching, Lesh the elder led the band through a unique instrumental interlude before singing the revised, post-Grateful coda:

Such a long, long time to be gone/and a short time to be …

“Box” was one of four livestream giveaways from Lesh & Friends’ March 15 gig in New York. It began with “Cosmic Charlie,” which shuffled across the stage and overcame with music its vocal shortcomings.

Donato was the man at the mic and in the six-string spotlight on “They Love Each Other” and “The Promised Land,” where he shone on the Grateful Dead number and struggled on Chuck Berry’s track.

But the band provided strong support on the musical front as Lesh continued his tradition of torch passing and lighting the way for a new generation of musical seekers.

Grade card: Phil Lesh & Friends - “Cosmic Charlie,” “They Love Each Other,” “The Promised Land” and “Box of Rain” (Live - 3/15/24) - B+/B/C/B

3/16/24

#Youtube #phil lesh & friends #phil lesh #grateful dead #grahame lesh #midnight north #daniel donato #jason crosby #john molo #bruce hornsby and the range #amy helm #cosmic charlie #box of rain #the promised land #they love each other #chuck berry

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, November 11th

BUFFY: So. Dawn's in trouble. Must be Tuesday.

~~Once More With Feeling~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

New Skills by veronyxk84 (Spike & Dawn, PG-13)

After School Special by a2zmom (Buffy/Angel, E)

Amaranthine by Lalaith_Quetzalli (Buffy/Angel, T)

daughter by bonniesfire (Buffy/Angel, T)

Yours, Always by buffytargaryen (Buffy/Angel, G)

Insatiable by MadeInGold (Buffy/Angel, E)

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do by NicHawkins (Buffy/Angel, T)

The kitchen won´t collapse if men are cooking! by Liana_Medea (Buffy/Angel, G)

Isn't It Lovely? (To Die At The Hand of The One You Love) by TemperanceCain (Buffy/Angel, T)

Wake-Up Call by MamaBewear (Buffy/Angel, T)

Foreign Festivities by thenewbuzwuzz (Buffy/Angel, G)

Self Love by MadeInGold (Angel/Angelus, E)

Every Night by violettathepiratequeen (Buffy/Spike, G)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion, Chapter 400 by madimpossibledreamer (Ensemble, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure crossover, T)

Alone, Chapters 1-2 (complete!) by Lalaith_Quetzalli (Buffy/Angel, T)

Two Unhappiness (Due infelicità), Chapters 1-9 (complete!) by Phoebes (Spike/Willow, T)

Her Old Fashioned Boy, Chapter 14 by Bobbie23 (Giles/Jenny, T)

Blood and Chaos, Chapter 44 by Aetheron, quote_Amy_unquote (Sannah_banana) (Amy, Ensemble, M)

The Ups and Downs of Loving You, Chapter 4 by Jess_Ann_Perreault (Jenny/OC, T)

New York, Chapter 12 by drsquidlove (Giles/Xander, M)

Spiderwebs, Chapter 42 by Willow25 (Buffy/Spike, T)

Moments that Make You: The Hero and The Princess, Chapter 83 by myheadsgonenumb (Cordelia/Doyle, T)

Gotta Have -Faith- continued by That_Vampire_Slayer (Faith, not rated)

Dead End Plots, Chapyer 15 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Once More With Feelings, Chapter 3 by Spikelover4ever (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Vampire Whxre, Chapter 3 by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Icarus, Chapter 2 by HappyWhenItRains (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

the Eyes, Chapter 15 by Dusty (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Icarus, Chapter 2 by HappyWhenItRains (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Gif: Anya banner by NotASlayer (worksafe)

Artwork: Illyria by lonelyhedgehoh (worksafe)

Artwork: Buffy by duvet-cover (worksafe)

Artwork: I’m gonna make Buffyverse so gay you won’t even believe it by junotter (Buffy/Faith, Spike/Angel, worksafe)

Manip: demon Cordelia by thepunkmuppet (worksafe)

Artwork process video: Spike reading by alessandra estrella art (worksafe)

Artwork: Buffy by felixsadlerillustration (worksafe)

Artwork: Spike and Buffy & Angel by Tasha Stark (worksafe)

Artwork: Buffy by rottenhoneyrat (worksafe)

Fanvid: Buffy, can we rest now? by sir fucks it up a lot (Buffy/Spike)

Video: Buffy Scythe build! by michaelcthulhu

Video: Who’s rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer? by Creative.Cliche (Buffy cosplay)

Video: buffy the vampire slayer picture day by Jessica Blair (Buffy, Willow, Xander, Cordelia, Giles cosplay)

Fanvid: Klaus and Buffy (Klauffy): My Love Will Never Die by Bobblehead89 (The Vampire Diaries crossover)

Fanvid: BTVS ~ the shape of you by creativeannie (Buffy/Spike)

Fanvid: Set fire to the rain -Buffy and Angel edit by LuNaR_EcLiPsEEE

Fanvid: A Buffyverse Story: Right Where You Left Me by Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Fanvid: Bigger than the whole Sky - Taylor Swift II Tara and Willow BtVS by Sunnydale Sunset

Fanvid: buffy & spike | a little death by Mary Music Videos

Fanvid: Juliana Mikaelson (Buffy) | My Demons by Patriciaa Mikaelson

[Reviews & Recaps]

The Angel the Series novel "Nemisis" by oveliagirlhaditright

Video: ConTinual Fandom: Buffy Season 1 by ConTinual Convention

Podcast: Deep Dive: Buffy the Vampire Slayer [movie] by The Movie Fellas

Video: Spiral-Slayer Sunday by Jane Talks Reel

Video: "The Harvest" | Buffy S01E02 Spoiler Review | The Re-Watcher's Council #2 | by LGRN Entertainment

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Fool for Love Analysis by Becoming Buffy Podcast

Video: The Twisted BTVS Season 1 Re-Cap by Twisted View

Video: ToriJ's Reviews #6: Buffy the Vampire Slayer [video game] by Tori Jacobs

Video: The Buffyverse gets serious: Buffy Season 2: Full spoilers review by Revisiting The Buffyverse

[Recs]

Fic rec: Reading Lessons by RiverDeNile [Wesley/Gunn, PG] recced by lupines-slash-recs

Fic rec: Liminal by aliceinwonderbra recced by Secretly A Summers

[Fandom Discussions]

How do you think the whole Angelus situation reflects onto Buffy and Angel’s relationship? answered by buffysummers

[About the vampire scene in The Body] by Girl4Music

Angel the Series for the ask meme thing by laufire

Spike’s story is the ‘doomed by the narrative’ post except he isn’t doomed by the narrative by muse-write

The continuous thread in season two of BTVS focusing in on Buffy and Spike by winterlovesong1

What was it like being a Buffy fan when "Seeing Red" happened? by Joshua

Little gems - BtVS Season 1 continued by multiple posters

I found the tone shift in Season 3 jarring continued by multiple posters

Is it me, or was Xander done dirty? continued by MapleCourt

Q&A with fanfic writer Hannah (Cosmic Tuesdays) by Hannah and multiple posters

Wesley and Virginia’s father issues by JellyfishDry9464

Missed opportunities for episodes by SafiraAshai

Have they ever given an in-universe explanation in the show or the comics for why wood kills vampires? by AmacoAmico

Opinion: the Buffy/Riley storyline was ridiculous by CockroachGlass4956

Holy water pistols Batman! by booknynaevewasbetter

Buffy’s vulnerability is amazingly well written by Eagles56

“I wasn’t thinking about you when you were here.” by Lojzko

Was Glory an Old One? by GringoSampaio

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #angel the series #ats

[magicstormfrostfire]

If you played/watched gameplay of Sonic Frontiers, what did you think about it? :3

Not gonna lie I....h-havent finished it yet I just got to the second Island with Knuckles *-sob-* i need to pick it back up.

But what do I think? I LOVE it. Its absolutely wonderful. Im not really a huge gamer buff type of person so i cant give like, a really detailed/informed review of the mechanics and gameplay loop so bear with me lol.

I will say it makes me feel so....idk how to explain it. I love RUNNING. I love the open space, the grass, the rain, it feels like I'm outside without a care. The game lets you just. Be free. I love open world stuff and BOTW was probably my favorite game and Sonic captures everything i love about open world just like BOTW did.

I think the story is fairly interesting so far (i have the frontiers tag blocked until i finish it, so i dont know much) and i think Sonic and the other's feel veey much like themselves. Amy's interactions with Sonic are something I always scrutinize because of how she was used in the past (gets war flashbacks) and i really like them here. Amy is her own person, and if she likes Sonic doesn't matter or not in their friendship. She's still a girl who's about protecting others and the power of love, but she's also mature and upstanding.

I think the stuff with Sage and Eggman is interesting in and of itself too. But i havent gotten far enough to see what that's all about.

Also i love just the open world puzzles you can use to get around. Theyre very fun and its just you figuring out how stuff works. (I really appreciate Sonic's little chuckles and grunts anytime you repeatedly hit against a surface. Hes having fun. I tended to do that a lot in when i got stuck on geometry or failed at a wall jump and his little laughs made me less frustrated lol)

The combat is super fun and i love how it feels to hit enemies in combos. And getting new combos! Its also nice that the classic sonic running levels are included in the game in a portal type way. They're still there and required for gameplay, and it feels like they wanted to include both tradtional sonic gameplay and open world experimental stuff. Im actually really terrible at the classic 'running/platforming' format Sonic has to be honest. But im glad its included and made part of the game to progress. Its an integral part of Sonic games after all.

Overall i really like the game and i desperately need to get back to it haha

#magicstorm asks #asks

[kamreadsandrecs]

Title: The Secret History of the Pink Carnation (Pink Carnation #1) Author: Lauren Willig Genre/s: romance, historical, Regency romance, contemporary romance, adventure Content/Trigger Warnings: historical period-accurate misogyny, parental death (offscreen, in the past), references to beheadings, violence Summary (from publisher’s website): Nothing goes right for Eloise. The one day she wears her new suede boots, it rains cats and dogs. When the subway stops short, she’s always the one thrown into some stranger’s lap. Plus, she’s had more than her share of misfortune in the way of love. In fact, ever since she realized romantic heroes are a thing of the past, she’s decided it’s time for a fresh start. Setting off for England, Eloise is determined to finish her dissertation on that dashing pair of spies, the Scarlet Pimpernel and the Purple Gentian. But what she discovers is something the finest historians have missed: the secret history of the Pink Carnation—the most elusive spy of all time. As she works to unmask this obscure spy, Eloise stumbles across answers to all kinds of questions. Like how did the Pink Carnation save England from Napoleon? What became of the Scarlet Pimpernel and the Purple Gentian? And will Eloise Kelly escape her bad luck and find a living, breathing hero all her own? Buy Here: https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-secret-history-of-the-pink-carnation-lauren-willig/11087824 Spoiler-Free Review: So this is actually a reread of this book, which I first read all the way back in the early 2000s, when it was recommended to me by a friend who also suggested I read The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Emmuska Orczy - of which this book is supposed to be a sequel. (Yes, I know Orczy wrote actual sequels for The Scarlet Pimpernel, but my friend also told me NOT to read those because they were going to extinguish whatever love I had for the first book. I haven’t been inclined to go looking, so I haven’t read them.) Anyway, back to this book! I remember being thoroughly entertained by this when I first read it, and I’m glad to note that it holds up pretty well to my memory of it the first time around. It’s still as fun and occasionally funny as I remember it being, and I’m still utterly delighted by the story as a whole. Amy and Richard’s romance is fun, even if it’s not EXACTLY the type of story that I usually favor, and their hijinks are very much in line with what I remember reading in The Scarlet Pimpernel. In fact, there’s plenty of that DNA in this book, which, if you’re coming right off reading Orczy’s novel, will certainly make this an even more enjoyable read. Rating: five pink carnations

#book review #book reviews #the secret history of the pink carnation #pink carnation series #lauren willig #historical #romance #regency romance #adventure #books

[washipink]

The Rain Review (Finale)

If you’ve been with my blog for the past week or so, You’ll know I’ve been reading a childhood favorite webcomic of mine, Rain by Jocelyn Samara. And you’d probably be wondering what happened to my review of the comic Year-by-Year. The answer? I went on a road trip for a few days and couldn’t help but read the whole rest of the comic. So today I’m here to talk about my overall thoughts.

For the uninitiated, Rain is a slice-of-life webcomic that started in 2010. It’s about a transgender teenage girl of the same name navigating her senior year at a Catholic high school. There’s a LOT of romantic and gender-related drama. Friends are made and lost. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll see yourself in the characters somewhere along the line.

My experience with Rain prior to this project only goes up to about 2014. I started reading it in middle school on Smackjeeves.com. Y’all remember Smackjeeves? I miss it every day. Apparently it redirects to a shitty webtoon clone now. IDK where I’m gonna find peoples’ sprite comics produced in 2013 now.

Anyway, I bring this up to say that I had stopped keeping up with Rain even though she was a major part of me accepting who I was. When I found out that her story had come to a close, I had a real need to find out how.

This time, there won’t be a plot summary because this comic ran for 11 years and it takes me long enough to do just 1. That and, if I may spoil my final opinion, I really want you to give it a read for yourself.

ART

I want to get this one out of the way because it’s a very common critique that even I hold to some extent. The art in Rain is a clear indicator of the era its artist hails from. In 2010, anime and manga had just hit the American mainstream. Everyone was reading those “How to Draw Anime” books and took a lot of notes from them. To showcase, here’s a page from Chapter 1, the first color page in fact.

This page is actually one of the busier pages in terms of art. Jocelyn doesn’t usually do background details much, if at all. Usually, backgrounds are depicted as solid colors that are associated with specific locations. Grey for the apartment, sky blue for outside, light green for school, etc. But the way Rain is drawn here bears a striking resemblance to the styles a LOT of people were using at the time.

While Jocelyn’s style stays rooted in, shall we say, American who got really into anime, her techniques evolve over time. Especially in terms of displaying what’s going on with limited background detail.

As an example, I really enjoy this scene. Rain and Emily are, in universe, speaking over the phone right now. But neither of them are holding their phones to their ears. They’re looking at each other as if they’re in the same room. Jocelyn uses a gradient background to signify that the two of them are NOT in the same room, but as they get closer during their conversation, they get physically closer in the panel as well.

This page is taken from 2014, about 4 years into the comic’s run. You can see that Jocelyn’s brush choices have changed. Everything is far smoother than it was toward the start. While the overall style is as simplistic as year 1, her technique has changed a lot.

That comfort with her work only continues to grow. Below is a panel from a bonus page that released after the comic’s conclusion. The line work is the cleanest its ever been.

STORY AND CHARACTERS

Now this right here is the REAL meat of the comic. Regardless of any feelings I had on the art, the characters really endeared me. And this being a slice-of-life teen drama, they had plenty of time to learn, grow, and clash against one another.

The majority of the conflict in Rain comes from people being set in their ways. Rain’s whole gaggle of queer friends is hiding from the school’s principal, who refuses to acknowledge that maybe there’s nothing wrong with being a little gay. One of the most compelling ongoing threads in the comic centers around Rain’s brother and sister trying to understand and accept her. These personal stakes were a really enjoyable break from the kind of thing I usually read. In Rain, there is no world to be saved or villain to defeat, but there IS a prom to go to. Sometimes, that’s all you need to tell a good story.

The comic has this small-town vibe I care for a lot. Sometimes, a character will exit another’s life and you’ll never expect to see them again. Then they’ll end up dating Rain’s aunt or something. Word spreads fast in Centerville. People are gossipy. Sometimes, you tell someone something and it reaches ears you didn’t want to hear it. That gossip is what makes things so dangerous for Rain. If the wrong person finds her out, then EVERYONE finds her out. The same goes for all her friends.

There’s all kinds of flavor of queer in this comic in a way that mirrors real life friend groups. We have a tendency to find each other like that.

With all kinds of queers being hormonal teens, things get messy FAST. There’s a lot of things that happen in this comic that I feel like baby gays need to see. There’s a point where a gay boy and a trans girl start going out because... this just happens sometimes. Nobody is “the villain” in this scenario. They both just tried to explore themselves and found mixed results.

That’s one of the big themes of Rain. Self-exploration. Every chapter, we’re learning more about these characters as they learn more about themselves. Nobody stays in the same headspace for too long. They’re constantly evolving.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Rain is ABSOLUTELY worth the read. It’s actually a really easy read. I was able to finish it in about 2 weeks, so I’m sure it won’t take up too much of your time. But, it’s a really heartwarming story that I’m sure a lot of us can relate to. Thanks for going on this journey with me. And be safe, Rain Beaus.

#Amy's Rain Review #Rain webcomic #Rain LGBT #Rain by Jocelyn Samara #Jocelyn Samara #lgbt webcomics

[dogrotpdf]

Strawberry milkshake is good but s’mores is better yea I’m prepared to die on my pop tart discourse hill

i am currently on poptarts.com looking at the reviews. user ‘grammy’ says: ‘got for camping because it was raining lol. we couldn’t build a fire!’ user ‘snore hater’ gets a personal shoutout from me. amy ‘likes them sometimes.’

data inconclusive :/

[rabbittstewcomics]

Episode 357

Non-Marvel/DC September 2022 Solicits

Comic Reviews:

DC:

Aquaman and Flash: Voidsong 1 by Jackson Lanzing, Collin Kelly, Vasco Georgiev, Rain Beredo

Black Adam 1 by Christopher Priest, Rafa Sandoval, Matt Herms

Dark Crisis: Young Justice 1 by Meghan Fitzmartin, Laura Braga, Luis Guerrero

Flash 783 by Jeremy Adams, Amancay Nahuelpan, Jeromy Cox

Earth Prime 6: Hero's Twilight

Milestones in History by Reginald Hudlin, Steven Barnes, Amy Chu, Melody Cooper, Leon Chills, Alice Randall, Toure, Tananarive Due, Pat Charles, Kathryn Parsons, Francesco Francavilla, Jamal Igle, Ray-Anthony Height, Denys Cowan, Eric Battle, Don Hudson, Ron Wilson, Arvell Jones, Maria Laura Sanapo, Domo Stanton, Jahnoy Lindsay, John Stanisci, Jose Marzan Jr, Mike Gustovich, Chris Sotomayor, Michael Atiyeh, Emilio Lopez, Hi-Fi, Dan Brown, Eva De La Cruz, Andrew Dolhouse

Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen's Boss Perry White by Matt Fraction, Steve Lieber, et al

Marvel:

Marvel's Voices Pride 2022 by Mike O’Sullivan, Stuart Vandal, Rob London, Andrew Wheeler, Daron Jensen, Alyssa Wong, Patrick Duke, Chris McCarver, Christopher Cantwell, Danny Lore, Luc Kersten, Grace Freud, Ira Madison III, Alex Philips, Charle Jane Anders, Ted Brandt, Kei Zama, Lucas Werneck, Brittney Williams, Ro Stein, Scott Henderson, Lorenzo Susi, Stephen Byrne, Lee Townsend, Rachelle Rosenberg, Rico Renzi, Jose Villarrubia, Michael Wiggam, Tamra Bonvillain, Brittany Peer

Miles Morales and Moon Girl 1 by Mohale Mashigo, Ig Guara, Rachelle Rosenberg

New Fantastic Four 1 by Peter David, Alan Robinson, Mike Spicer

Punisher War Journal: Blitz by Torunn Gronbekk, Lan Medina, Antonio Fabela

Who is Jane Foster Thor Infinity Comic by Torunn Gronbekk, Leonard Kirk, Matt Milla

Marvel Meow 9 by Nao Fuji

Image:

Beware the Eye of Odin 1 by Doug Wagner, Tim Odland

Clementine GN by Tillie Walden, Cliff Rathburn 

Silver Coin 11 by James Tynion IV, Michael Walsh

Dark Horse:

Lonesome Hunters 1 by Tyler Crook

Ahoy:

Wrong Earth: Confidence Men 1 by Mark Waid, Leonard Kirk

Dynamite:

Samurai Sonja 1 by Jordan Clark, Pasquale Qualano

OGNs:

Runaways Diary by Emily Raymond, Valeria Wicker, James Patterson

Creepy Cat vol 3 by Cotton Valent

Additional Reviews: Obi-Wan ep6, Ms. Marvel ep3, Kevin Can F*** Himself s1, Star Trek: Prodigy s1, Spiderhead, Absolute Fourth World vol 1, Trevor: The Musical, Bone Orchard Mythos Passageway, Centaurworld

  A new feature announced!

  News: Kraven movie plot, Conan license to Titan, Omninews, Miracleman Silver Age, Riverdale spinoff featuring Jake Chang, Scout kickstarts Stabbity Bunny, new OGN series from Molly Knox Ostertag

  Trailers: Stranger Things s4.2

  Comics Countdown:

Batman: The Knight 6 by Chip Zdarsky, Carmine Di Giandomenico, Ivan Plascencia

Deadly Class 53 by Rick Remender, Wes Craig, Lee Loughridge

Newburn 8 by Chip Zdarsky, Jacob Phillips , Casey Gilly, Soo Lee

Nocterra 11 by Scott Snyder, Tony Daniel, Marcelo Maiolo

Nightwing 93 by Tom Taylor, Bruno Redondo, Wade Von Grawbadger, Adriano Lucas

Lonesome Hunters 1 by Tyler Crook

Something is Killing the Children 24 by James Tynion IV, Werther Dell’Edera, Miquel Muerto

I Hate This Place 2 by Kyle Starks, Artyom Topilin, Lee Loughridge

Beware the Eye of Odin 1 by Doug Wagner, Tim Odland

Flash 783 by Jeremy Adams, Amancay Nahuelpan, Jeromy Cox

Check out this episode!

#comics #podcast #podernfamily #rabbittstew

[dark-magical-ships]

omg imagine Seto giving you an office job at KaibaCorp. nothing super high stress or busy, just something to earn a little fun money since he insists on taking care of everything financially (and to keep you close to him during the day, let's be real). this man's finding any excuse to stop by your desk; he brings you cups of coffee made exactly how you like them, paperwork with secret little love notes tucked between the pages, sends you emails he knows you have to check that are always like

"Amy,

Darling, do you know how distracting you are? You look stunning today, as always; I nearly tripped over myself when I saw you this morning. I can't wait to finally call you my wife.

Seto Kaiba

CEO, KaibaCorp"

(help him he hit send before he could turn the email signature off)

and he makes sure you're constantly in his office under the thin guise of "meeting reviews" and "updating paperwork"; he just wants a break to talk to and check in with the love of his life ♡ sometimes, when he works into overtime and won't get home until later, you grab dinner and you both sit on his office floor eating takeout. just Seto loving you so much he can hardly stand to be away from you

— @daydream-sequence

A;LSKDJF;LKASJDGLKJG MARS YOU BASTARD /lh /nm Heccccc you gonna have me daydreaming of being his secretary or some BS lmfao never thought I'd see the day—

OKAY but real talk I have turned down jobs at KC SO MANY TIMES lmfao XDDD He offered me an apprenticeship there right out of high school before we were even together, but I said no because we were friends and I didn't want my whole career to hinge on who I knew; I wanted to succeed on merit. Then he offered again after we got together, and like a dozen more times; basically whenever I'm in need of work he reminds me all I have to do is ask and he'll set me up. XD I'm an ambitious little nerd though and want to find my own way in terms of a career, even though it's been financially unnecessary for years.

That never stopped him from doing basically exactly this shit, though! Cheeky fucker just switched to working from home most of the time. Our schedules line up in such a way that one of us is almost always off while the other is working, so there's a lot of texting and gaming that ends up happening while we're supposed to be working. XD He has showed up at my workplace more than a few times over the years to "drop something off" or "for a meeting" that was really an excuse just to come see me, and busy schedule be damned. I don't work for him, but I've helped him with his work stuff on countless occasions just to spend time together, and that has indeed included more than one dinner eaten off the coffee table in his office while pouring over forms and figures.

2020 was friggin ridiculous for this because we were both working from home, which meant we shared the home office. I was a call center worker at the time, so my performance was being watched closely even though I didn't have a supervisor in the same building. Somehow I kept my metrics and work quality up so my manager never realized just how distracting that was, and of course as the owner of the company and top executive Seto can basically do whatever he wants... but the number of calls I took while thoroughly distracted was a lot higher than it probably should have been. XD

One of the sneakiest ways he's taken advantage of my working elsewhere, though, was the time he had my car towed while I was at work, stranding me there. XD He waited for me to call him about my car being gone, then said he'd send Isono—basically his right-hand man next to Mokuba (left-hand man, then? anyway)—to pick me up with a company car. He showed up like ten minutes later, which was suspiciously fast, but I was just grateful not to be standing around in the cold for a n hour since this early-mid March and it was raining and really damn cold out.

If you've been following me long enough (I know you haven't but anyone else reading lol), or have gone back through Seto's tag far enough, you might have some idea of what he was up to. I, however, suspected nothing, because I am dumb of ass.

Isono started off like he was taking me home while I was lamenting my "stolen" car and how I was going to get a new one so soon after having just bought this one, and all the while this guy is proving why Seto's kept the same Number One for so many years by playing it completely cool. He was just all, "Mr. Kaiba is doing everything he can to make sure your car is returned by Monday morning," and "I'm sure Mr. Kaiba would be more than happy to lend you one of the cars from his own garage, or else provide a company driver for you," yadda yadda. And it wasn't until like twenty minutes into the drive that I realized we'd passed the exit to go home and were still on the highway. I asked what was up and Isono was just like "Mr. Kaiba's orders, Mx. Amata. I can't say more."

Which, okay, fine. I trust Seto, and I trust Isono. So we keep going for like another hour and a half on that highway. And where do we end up?

There's this little Bavarian-looking tourist trap of a town with a name that always makes the military guys in my family laugh up in the mountains around here. March isn't a big time of year for them, but it's beautiful and exactly my aesthetic and kind of place to get away for a while We stopped at this small resort in the general vicinity of that little mountain town, and Isono handed me a room key with a number on it. I went up and what did I find there but Seto Kaiba with a damn candlelight dinner and everything, having pulled out all the stops to surprise me for a long anniversary weekend. This was like our seventh anniversary; I had no idea he was planning anything this big, but it was really just. Spectacular.

And true to Isono's promise, my car was sitting in the driveway when we returned home Sunday night.

#friends #mars #love my moots #🐉💙 cocoashipping 💙🐉 #ask box #DAMMIT FRIENDS OMFG PUTTING AU IDEAS IN MY HEAD AGAIN #LASDJF;LASDJG;L #SAVING FOREVER #lovely memories thank you mars this was a delightful surprise when i got to work hehe #<3 #you still haven't gotten me back as good as I got you though hehe >;3 #I KNOW THIS WAS ATTEMPTED PAYBACK FOR THE BIT ABOUT REN PROPOSING TO YOU #and if you think this will stop me from popping back into your inbox when you least expect it you got another thing coming hehehe

[kammartinez]

If one needs reminding of the controversy (because all of this went down in 2018 and the internet's memory is notoriously short), this article from the New Yorker covers it.

Dan Mallory, a book editor turned novelist, is tall, good-looking, and clever. His novel, “The Woman in the Window,” which was published under a lightly worn pseudonym, A. J. Finn, was the hit psychological thriller of the past year. Like “Gone Girl,” by Gillian Flynn (2012), and “The Girl on the Train,” by Paula Hawkins (2015), each of which has sold millions of copies, Mallory’s novel, published in January, 2018, features an unreliable first-person female narrator, an apparent murder, and a possible psychopath.

Mallory sold the novel in a two-book, two-million-dollar deal. He dedicated it to a man he has described as an ex-boyfriend, and secured a blurb from Stephen King: “One of those rare books that really is unputdownable.” Mallory was profiled in the Times, and the novel was reviewed in this magazine. A Washington Post critic contended that Mallory’s prose “caresses us.” The novel entered the Times best-seller list at No. 1—the first time in twelve years that a début novel had done so. A film adaptation, starring Amy Adams and Gary Oldman, was shot in New York last year. Mallory has said that his second novel is likely to appear in early 2020—coinciding, he hopes, with the Oscar ceremony at which the film of “The Woman in the Window” will be honored. Translation rights have been acquired in more than forty foreign markets.

Mallory can be delightful company. Jonathan Karp, the publisher of Simon & Schuster, recently recalled that Mallory, as a junior colleague in the New York book world, had been “charming, brilliant,” and a “terrific writer of e-mail.” Tess Gerritsen, the crime writer, met Mallory more than a decade ago, when he was an editorial assistant; she remembers him as “a charming young man” who wrote deft jacket copy. Craig Raine, the British poet and academic, told me that Mallory had been a “charming and talented” graduate student at Oxford; there, Mallory had focussed his studies on Patricia Highsmith’s Tom Ripley novels, which are about a charming, brilliant impostor.

Now thirty-nine, Mallory lives in New York, in Chelsea. He spent much of the past year travelling—Spain, Bulgaria, Estonia—for interviews and panel discussions. He repeated entertaining, upbeat remarks about his love of Alfred Hitchcock and French bulldogs. When he made an unscheduled appearance at a gathering of bloggers in São Paulo, he was greeted with pop-star screams.

One evening in September, in Christchurch, New Zealand, Mallory sat down in the bar of the hotel where he and other guests of a literary festival were staying. Tom Scott, an editorial cartoonist and a screenwriter, was struck by Mallory’s self-assurance, which reminded him of Sam Shepard’s representation of Chuck Yeager, the test pilot, in the film “The Right Stuff.” “He came in wearing the same kind of bomber jacket,” Scott said recently, in a fondly teasing tone. “An incredibly good-looking guy. He sat down and plonked one leg over the arm of his chair, and swung that leg casually, and within two minutes he’d mentioned that he had the best-selling novel in the world this year.” Mallory also noted that he’d been paid a million dollars for the movie rights to “The Woman in the Window.” Scott said, “He was enjoying his success so much. It was almost like an outsider looking in on his own success.”

Mallory and Scott later appeared at a festival event that took the form of a lighthearted debate between two teams. The audience was rowdy; Scott recalled that, when it was Mallory’s turn to speak, he flipped the room’s mood. He announced that he was going “off script” to share something personal—for what Scott understood to be the first time. Mallory said that once, in order to alleviate depression, he had undergone electroconvulsive therapy, three times a week, for one or two months. It had “worked,” Mallory noted, adding, “I’m very grateful.” He said that he still had ECT treatments once a year. “You knew he was telling us something that was really true,” Scott recalled. In the room, there was “a huge surge of sympathy.”

Mallory had frequently referred to electroconvulsive therapy before. But, in those instances, he had included it in a list of therapies that he had considered unsatisfactory in the years between 2001, when he graduated from Duke University, and 2015, when he was given a diagnosis of bipolar II disorder, and found relief through medication. In a talk that Mallory gave at a library in Centennial, Colorado, soon after his book’s publication, he said, “I resorted to hypnotherapy, to electroconvulsive therapy, to ketamine therapy, to retail therapy.”

In that talk, as in dozens of appearances, Mallory adopted a tone of witty self-deprecation. (An audience member asked him if he’d considered a career in standup comedy.) But Mallory’s central theme was that, although depression may have caused him to think poorly of himself, he was in fact a tremendous success. “I’ve thrived on both sides of the Atlantic,” he said. “I’m like Adele!” He’d reached a mass readership with a first novel that, he said, had honored E. M. Forster’s exhortation in “Howards End”: “Only connect.” Mallory described himself as a man “of discipline and compassion.”

Mallory also explained that he had come to accept that he was attractive—or “semi-fit to be viewed by the semi-naked eye.” On a trip to China, he had been told so by his “host family.” At a talk two weeks later, he repeated the anecdote but identified the host family as Japanese.

Such storytelling is hardly scandalous. Mallory was taking his first steps as a public figure. Most people have jazzed up an anecdote, and it is a novelist’s job to manipulate an audience.

But in Colorado Mallory went further. He said that, while he was working at an imprint of the publisher Little, Brown, in London, between 2009 and 2012, “The Cuckoo’s Calling,” a thriller submitted pseudonymously by J. K. Rowling, had been published on his recommendation. He said that he had taught at Oxford University, where he had received a doctorate. “You got a problem with that?” he added, to laughter.

Mallory doesn’t have a doctorate from Oxford. Although he may have read Rowling’s manuscript, it was not published on his recommendation. (And he never “worked with” Tina Fey at Little, Brown, as an official biography of Mallory claimed; a representative for Fey recently said that “he was not an editor in any capacity on Tina’s book.”)

Moreover, according to many people who know him, Mallory has a history of imposture, and of duping people with false stories about disease and death. Long before he wrote fiction professionally, Mallory was experimenting with gothic personal fictions, apparently designed to get attention, bring him advancement, or to explain away failings. “Money and power were important to him,” a former publishing colleague told me. “But so was drama, and securing people’s sympathies.”

In 2001, Jeffrey Archer, the British novelist, began a two-year prison sentence for perjury and perverting the course of justice. Nobody has accused Dan Mallory of breaking the law, or of lying under oath, but his behavior has struck many as calculated and extreme. The former colleague said that Mallory was “clever and careful” in his “ruthless” deceptions: “If there was something that he wanted and there was a way he could position himself to get it, he would. If there was a story to tell that would help him, he would tell it.” This doesn’t look like poetic license, ordinary cockiness, or Nabokovian game-playing; nor is it behavior associated with bipolar II disorder.

In 2016, midway through the auction for “The Woman in the Window,” the author’s real name was revealed to bidders. At that point, most publishing houses dropped out. This move reflected an industry-wide unease with Mallory that never became public, and that did not stand in the way of his enrichment: William Morrow, Mallory’s employer at the time, kept bidding, and bought his book.

Mallory had by then spent a decade in publishing, in London and New York, and many people in the profession had heard rumors about him, including the suggestion that he had left jobs under peculiar circumstances. Several former colleagues of Mallory’s who were interviewed for this article recalled feeling deeply unnerved by him. One, in London, said, “He exploited people who were sweet-natured.” A colleague at William Morrow told friends, “There’s this guy in my office who’s got a ‘Talented Mr. Ripley’ thing going on.” In 2013, Sophie Hannah, the esteemed British crime-fiction writer, whose work includes the sanctioned continuation of Agatha Christie’s series of detective novels, was one of Mallory’s authors; she came to distrust accounts that he had given about being gravely ill.

I recently called a senior editor at a New York publishing company to discuss the experience of working with Mallory. “My God,” the editor said, with a laugh. “I knew I’d get this call. I didn’t know if it would be you or the F.B.I.”

Craig Raine taught English literature at New College, Oxford, for twenty years, until his retirement, in 2010. Every spring, he read applications from students who, having been accepted by Oxford to pursue a doctorate in English, hoped to be attached to New College during their studies. A decade or so ago, Raine read an application from Dan Mallory, which described a proposed thesis on homoeroticism in Patricia Highsmith’s fiction. Unusually, the application included an extended personal statement.

Raine, telling me about the essay during a phone conversation a few months ago, called it an astonishing piece of writing that described almost unbearable family suffering. The essay sought to explain why Mallory’s performance as a master’s student at Oxford, a few years earlier, had been good but not brilliant. Mallory said that his studies had been disrupted by visits to America, to nurse his mother, who had breast cancer. Raine recalled, “He had a brother, who was mentally disadvantaged, and also had cystic fibrosis. The brother died while being nursed by him. And Dan was supporting the family as well. And the mother gradually died.” According to Raine, Mallory had described how his mother rejected the idea of suffering without complaint. Mallory often read aloud to her the passage in “Little Women” in which Beth dies, with meek, tidy stoicism, so that his mother “could sneer at it, basically.”

Raine went on, “At some point, when Dan was nursing her, he got a brain tumor, which he didn’t tell her about, because he thought it would be upsetting to her. And, evidently, that sort of cleared up. And then she died. The brother had already died.”

Raine admired the essay because it “knew it was moving but didn’t exaggerate—it was written calmly.” Raine is the longtime editor of Areté, a literary magazine, and he not only helped Mallory secure a place at New College; he invited him to expand the essay for publication. “He worked at it for a couple of months,” Raine said. “Then he said that, after all, he didn’t think he could do it.” Mallory explained that his mother, a private person, might have preferred that he not publish. Instead, he reviewed a collection of essays by the poet Geoffrey Hill.

Pamela Mallory, Dan’s mother, does seem to be a private person: her Instagram account is locked. When I briefly met her, some weeks after I’d spoken to Raine, she declined to be interviewed. She lives for at least part of the year in a large house in Amagansett, near the Devon Yacht Club, where a celebratory lunch was held for Mallory last year. (On Instagram, he once posted a video clip of the club’s exterior, captioned, “The first rule of yacht club is: you do not talk about yacht club.”) In 2013, at a country club in Charlotte, North Carolina, Pamela Mallory attended the wedding reception of her younger son, John, who goes by Jake, and who was then working at Wells Fargo. At the wedding, she and Dan danced. This year, Pamela and other family members were photographed at a talk that Dan gave at Queens University of Charlotte. Dan has described travelling with his mother on a publicity trip to New Zealand. “Only one of us will make it back alive,” he joked to a reporter. “She’s quite spirited.”

I told Raine that Mallory’s mother was not dead. There was a pause, and then he said, “If she’s alive, he lied.” Raine underscored that he had taken Mallory’s essay to be factual. He asked me, “Is the father alive? In the account I read, I’m almost a hundred per cent certain that the father is dead.” The senior John Mallory, once an executive at the Bank of America in Charlotte, also attended the event at Queens University. He and Pamela have been married for more than forty years.

Dan Mallory, who turned down requests to be interviewed for this article, was born in 1979, into a family that he has called “very, very Waspy,” even though his parents both had a Catholic education and he has described himself as having been a “precocious Catholic” in childhood. His maternal grandfather, John Barton Poor, was the chairman and chief executive of R.K.O. General, which owned TV and radio stations. Mallory was perhaps referring to Poor when, as an undergraduate at Duke, he wrote in a student paper that, at the age of nine, he had “slammed the keyboard cover of my grandfather’s Steinway onto my exposed penis.” The article continued, “As I beheld the flushed member pinned against the ivories like the snakeling in Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, I immediately feared my urinating days were over.”

Dan and Jake Mallory have two sisters, Hope and Elizabeth. When Dan was nine or so, the family moved from Garden City, on Long Island, to Virginia, and then to Charlotte, where he attended Charlotte Latin, a private school. The family spent summers in Amagansett. In interviews, Mallory has sometimes joked that he was unpopular as a teen-ager, but Matt Cloud, a Charlotte Latin classmate, recently told me, by e-mail, that “Dan’s the best,” and was “a stellar performer” in a school production of “Arsenic and Old Lace.”

In 1999, at the end of Mallory’s sophomore year in college, he published an article in the Duke Chronicle which purported to describe events that had occurred a few years earlier, when he was seventeen; he wrote that he was then living in a single-parent household. The piece, titled “Take Full Advantage of Suffering,” began:

From a dim corner of her hospital room I surveyed the patient, who appeared, tucked primly under the crisp sheets, not so much recouping from surgery as steeped in a late-evening reverie. Her blank face registered none of the pristine grimness which so often pervades medical environs; hopeful hints of rose could be discerned in her pale skin; and with each gentle inhalation, her chest lifted slowly but reassuringly heavenward. Mine, by contrast, palpitated so furiously that I braced myself for cardiac arrest. I do not know whether she spied me as I gazed downward, contemplating the unjustly colloquial sound of “lumpectomy,” or if some primally maternal instinct alerted her to my presence, but in a coarse, ragged voice, she breathed my name: “Dan.”

His mother, he wrote, urged him “to write to your colleges and tell them your mother has cancer.” Mallory said that he complied, adding, “I hardly feel I capitalized on tragedy—rather, I merely squeezed lemonade from the proverbial lemons.” In college applications, he noted, “I lamented, in the sweeping, tragic prose of a Brontë sister, the unsettling darkness of the master bedroom, where my mother, reeling from bombardments of chemotherapy, lay for days huddled in a fetal position.”

This strategy apparently failed with Princeton. In the article, Mallory recalled writing to Fred Hargadon, then Princeton’s dean of admissions. “You heartless bastard,” the letter supposedly began. “What kind of latter-day Stalin refuses admission to someone in my plight? Not that I ever seriously considered gracing your godforsaken institution with my presence—you should be so lucky—but I’m nonetheless relieved to know that I won’t be attending a university whose administrators opt to ignore oncological afflictions; perhaps if I’d followed the example of your prized student Lyle Menendez and killed my mother, things would have turned out differently.”

Mallory ended his article with an exhortation to his readers: “Make suffering worth it. When the silver lining proves elusive, when the situation cannot be helped, nothing empowers so much as working for one’s own advantage.”

At some point in Mallory’s teen years, I learned, his mother did have cancer. But the essay feels like a blueprint for the manipulations later exerted on Craig Raine and others: inspiring pity and furthering ambition while holding a pose of insouciance.

In the summer of 1999, Mallory interned at New Line Cinema, in New York. He later claimed, in the Duke Chronicle, that he “whiled away” the summer “polishing” the horror film “Final Destination,” directed by James Wong. “We need a young person like you to sex it up,” Mallory recalled being told. Wong told me that Mallory did not work on the script.

Mallory spent his junior year abroad, at Oxford, and the experience “changed my attitude toward life,” he told Duke Today in 2001. “I discovered British youth culture, went out clubbing. . . . I learned it was O.K. to have fun.” While there, he published a dispatch, in the Duke student publication TowerView, describing an encounter with a would-be mugger, who asked him, “Want me to shoot your motherfucking mouth off?” Mallory responded with witty aplomb, and the mugger, cowed, scuttled “down some anonymous alley to reflect on why it is Bad To Threaten Other People, especially pushy Americans who doubt he has a gun.”

Before Oxford, Mallory had been self-contained—Jeffery West, who taught Mallory in a Duke acting class, and cast him in a production of Tom Stoppard’s “Arcadia,” said that he was then a “gawky, lanky kind of boy, an Other.” After Oxford, Mallory was bolder. Mary Carmichael, a Duke classmate and his editor at TowerView, told me that Mallory was now likely to sweep into a room. An article in the Chronicle proposed that “being center stage is a joy for Mallory.” He directed plays, which were well received, and he became a film critic for the Chronicle. He ruled that Matt Damon had been “miserably graceless” as the star of “The Talented Mr. Ripley.”

In 2001, Mallory was the student speaker at Duke’s commencement. As in his cancer article, he made a debater’s case for temerity, in part by deploying temerity. He called himself a “novelist,” and said that he had missed out on a Rhodes Scholarship only because he’d been too cutely candid in an interview: when asked what made him laugh, he’d said, “My dog,” rather than something rarefied. He described talking his way into the thesis program of Duke’s English Department, despite not having done the qualifying work. He compared his stubborn “attitude” on this matter to struggles over civil rights. In college, he said, “I had honed my personality to a fine lance, and could deploy my character as I did my intellect.”

“The Woman in the Window” is narrated by Anna Fox, an agoraphobic middle-aged woman, living alone in a Harlem brownstone, who believes that she has witnessed a violent act occurring in a neighbor’s living room. Early in 2018, when Mallory began promoting the novel, he sometimes said that he, too, had “suffered from” agoraphobia. He later said that he had never had the condition.

In an interview last January, on “Thrill Seekers,” an online radio show, the writer Alex Dolan asked Mallory about the novel’s Harlem setting. Mallory said that, when describing Anna’s house, he had kept in mind the uptown home of a family friend, with whom he had stayed when he interned in New York. After a rare hesitation, Mallory shared an anecdote: he said that he’d once accidentally locked himself in the house’s ground-floor bathroom. When he was eventually rescued, by his host, he had been trapped “for twenty-two hours and ten minutes.”

“Wow!” Dolan said.

Mallory said, “So perhaps that contributed to my fascination with agoraphobia.”

Dolan asked, “You had the discipline to, say, not kick the door down?”

Mallory, committed to twenty-two hours and ten minutes, said that he had torn a brass towel ring off the wall, straightened it into a pipe, “and sort of hacked away at the area right above the doorknob.” He continued, “I did eventually bore my way through it, but by that point my fingers were bloody, I was screaming obscenities. This is the point—of course—at which the father of the house walked in!” After Dolan asked him if he’d resorted to eating toothpaste, Mallory steered the conversation to Hitchcock.

In subsequent interviews, Mallory does not seem to have brought up this bathroom again. But the exchange gives a glimpse of the temptations and risks of hyperbole: how, under even slight pressure, an exaggeration can become further exaggerated. For a speaker more invested in advantage than in accuracy, such fabulation could be exhilarating—and might even lead to the dispatch, by disease, of a family member. I was recently told about two former publishing colleagues of Mallory’s who called him after he didn’t show up for a meeting. Mallory said that he was at home, taking care of someone’s dog. The meeting continued, as a conference call. Mallory now and then shouted, “No! Get down!” After hanging up, the two colleagues looked at each other. “There’s no dog, right?” “No.”

Between 2002 and 2004, Mallory studied for a master’s degree at Oxford. He took courses on twentieth-century literature and wrote a thesis on detective fiction. Professor John Kelly, a Yeats scholar who taught him, told me, “He wrote very challenging and creative essays. I said to him once, ‘It can be a little florid.’ I always think that’s a wonderful fault, if it is a fault—constantly looking for not just the mot juste, as it were, but to give a spin on the mot juste. And his e-mails to me were like that, too; they were always very amusing.” Chris Parris-Lamb, a New York literary agent, similarly impressed by Mallory’s e-mails, once suggested that he write a collection of humorous essays, in the mode of David Sedaris.

As Kelly recalled, by the end of the two-year course Mallory was making frequent trips to America, apparently to address serious medical issues. Kelly didn’t know the details of Mallory’s illness. “We talked in general terms,” Kelly said. “I didn’t ever press him.” Kelly also understood that Mallory’s mother had a life-threatening illness. “Alas, she did die,” Kelly told me, adding that he respected Mallory’s “forbearance.”

Mallory received his master’s in 2004 and moved to New York. He applied to be an assistant to Linda Marrow, the editorial director of Ballantine, an imprint of Random House known for commercial fiction. At his interview, he said that he had a love of popular women’s fiction, which derived from his having read it with his mother when she was gravely ill with cancer. He later said that he had once had brain cancer himself.

Mallory was given the job. He impressed Tess Gerritsen and others with his writing; he contributed a smart afterword to a reprint of “From Doon with Death,” Ruth Rendell’s first novel. Adam Korn, then a Random House assistant, who saw a lot of Mallory socially, told me that Mallory was “a good guy, lovely to talk to, very informed,” and already “serious about being a writer.” Another colleague recalled that Mallory immediately “gave off a vibe of ‘I’m too good for this.’ ” Ballantine’s books were too down-market; Mallory’s role was too administrative.

As if impatient for advancement, Mallory often used his boss’s office late at night, and worked on her computer. On a few occasions in 2007, after Mallory had announced that he would soon be leaving the company to take up doctoral studies at Oxford, people found plastic cups, filled with urine, in and near Linda Marrow’s office. These registered as messages of disdain, or as territorial marking. Mallory was suspected of responsibility but was not challenged. No similar cups were found after he quit. (Mallory, through a spokesperson, said, “I was not responsible for this.”)

A few months later, after Mallory had moved to Oxford, his former employers noticed unexplained spending, at Amazon.co.uk, on a corporate American Express card. When confronted, Mallory acknowledged that he had used the card, but insisted that it was in error. He added that he was experiencing a recurrence of cancer.

In an interview with the Duke alumni magazine last spring, Mallory said that, as someone who was “very rules-conscious,” he found Patricia Highsmith’s representation of Tom Ripley, across five novels, to be “thrilling and disturbing in equal measure.” He went on, “When you read a Sherlock Holmes story, you know that, by the end, the innocent will be redeemed or rewarded, the guilty will be punished, and justice will be upheld or restored. Highsmith subverts all that. Through some alchemy, she persuades us to root for sociopaths.”

When, in a scene partway through “The Woman in the Window,” Anna Fox thinks about another character, “He could kiss me. He could kill me,” Mallory is alluding to a pivotal moment in “The Talented Mr. Ripley.” On the Italian Riviera, Ripley and Dickie Greenleaf, a dazzling friend who is tiring of Ripley’s company, hire a motorboat and head out to sea. In the boat, Ripley considers that he “could have hit Dickie, sprung on him, or kissed him, or thrown him overboard, and nobody could have seen him.” He then beats him to death with an oar.

Back at Oxford, Mallory has said, he “anointed” Highsmith as the primary subject of his dissertation. But he doesn’t seem to have published any scholarly articles on Highsmith, and it’s not clear how much of a thesis he wrote. An Oxford arts doctorate generally takes at least three or four years; in 2009, midway through his second year, Mallory was signing e-mails, untruthfully, “Dr. Daniel Mallory.” Oxford recently confirmed to me that Mallory never completed the degree.

At Oxford, Mallory became a student-welfare officer. In a guide for New College students, he introduced himself with brio, and invited students to approach him with any issues, “even if it’s on Eurovision night.” According to Tess Gerritsen, who had drinks with him and others in Oxford one night, Mallory mentioned that he was “working on a mystery novel,” which “might have been set in Oxford, the world of the dons.”

Mallory sometimes saw John Kelly, his former professor, for drinks or dinner. “They were very, very merry occasions,” Kelly told me. He recalled that Mallory once declined an invitation to a party, saying that he would be tied up in London, supporting a cancer-related organization. Kelly was struck by Mallory’s public-spiritedness, and by his modesty. “I would have never found out about it, except he wrote to me to say, ‘I’d love to be there, but it’s going to be a long day in London.’ ” (When Kelly learned that I had some doubts about Mallory’s accounts of cancer, he said that he was “astonished.”)

At one point, Kelly noticed that Mallory no longer responded to notes sent to him through Oxford’s internal mail system: he had left the university. Robert Douglas-Fairhurst, his doctoral supervisor, recently said of Mallory, “I’m very sorry that illness interrupted his studies.” Mallory had begun looking for work in London publishing, describing himself as a former editor at Ballantine, not as an assistant. He claimed that he had two Ph.D.s: his Highsmith-related dissertation, from Oxford, and one from the psychology department of an American university, for research into Munchausen syndrome. There’s no evidence that Mallory ever undertook such research. A former colleague recalls Mallory referring to himself as a “double-doctor.”

Toward the end of 2009, he was hired as a mid-level editor at Sphere, a commercial imprint of Little, Brown. In New York, news of this event caused puzzlement: an editor then at Ballantine recalled feeling that Mallory “hadn’t done enough” to earn such a position.

One of Mallory’s London colleagues to whom I spoke at length described publishing as “a soft industry—and much more so in London than in New York.” Hiring standards in London have improved in the past decade, this colleague said, but at the time of Mallory’s hiring “it was much more a case of ‘I like the cut of your jib, you can have a job,’ rather than ‘Have you actually got a Ph.D. from Oxford, and were you an editor at Ballantine?’ ”

Mallory was amusing, well read, and ebullient, and could make a memorable first impression, over lunch, on literary agents and authors. He tended to speak almost without pause. He’d begin with rapturous flattery—he told Louise Penny, the Canadian mystery writer, that he’d read her manuscript three times, once “just for fun”—and then shift to self-regard. He wittily skewered acquaintances and seemed always conscious of his physical allure. He’d say, in passing, that he’d modelled for Guess jeans—“runway only”—or that he’d appeared on the cover of Russian Vogue. He mentioned a friendship with Ricky Martin.

This display was at times professionally effective. In a blog post written after signing with Little, Brown, Penny excitedly described Mallory as a former “Oxford professor of literature.” Referring to the bond between author and editor, she added, “It is such an intimate relationship, there needs to be trust.”

Others found his behavior off-putting; it seemed unsuited to building long-term professional relationships. The London colleague said, “He was so full-on. I thought, My God, what’s going on? It was performative and calculating.” A Little, Brown colleague, who was initially impressed by Mallory, said, “He was not modest, ever.” The colleague noted that many editors got into trouble by disregarding sales and focussing only on books that they loved, adding, “That certainly never happened with him.” Little, Brown authors were often “seduced by Dan” at first but then “became disenchanted” when he was “late with his edits or got someone else to do them.”

Mallory, who had just turned thirty, told colleagues that he was impatient to rise. He found friends in the company’s higher ranks. Having acquired a princeling status, he used it to denigrate colleagues. The London colleague said that Mallory would tell his superiors, “This is a bunch of dullards working for you.” Another colleague said of Mallory, “When he likes you, it’s like the sun shining on you.” But Mallory’s contempt for perceived enemies was disconcertingly sharp. “You don’t want to get on the wrong side of that,” the colleague recalled thinking.

Mallory moved into an apartment in Shoreditch, in East London. He wasn’t seen at publishing parties, and one colleague wondered if his extroversion at lunch meetings served “to disguise crippling shyness” and habits of solitude. On his book tour, Mallory has said that depression “blighted, blotted, and blackened” his adult life. A former colleague of his told me that Mallory seemed to be driven by fears of no longer being seen as a “golden boy.”

In the summer of 2010, Mallory told Little, Brown about a job offer from a London competitor. He was promised a raise and a promotion. A press release announcing Mallory’s elevation described him as “entrepreneurial and a true team player.”

By then, Mallory had made it widely known to co-workers that he had an inoperable brain tumor. He’d survived earlier bouts with cancer, but now a doctor had told him that a tumor would kill him by the age of forty. He seemed to be saying that cancer—already identified and unequivocally fatal—would allow him to live for almost another decade. The claim sounds more like a goblin’s curse than like a prognosis, but Mallory was persuasive; the colleague who was initially supportive of him recently said, with a shake of the head, “Yes, I believed that.”

Some co-workers wept after hearing the news. Mallory told people that he was seeking experimental treatments. He took time off. In Little, Brown’s open-plan office, helium-filled “Get Well” balloons swayed over Mallory’s desk. For a while, he wore a baseball cap, even indoors, which was thought to hide hair loss from chemotherapy. He explained that he hadn’t yet told his parents about his diagnosis, as they were aloof and unaffectionate. Before the office closed for Christmas in 2011, Mallory said that, as his parents had no interest in seeing him, he would instead make an exploratory visit to the facilities of Dignitas, the assisted-death nonprofit based in Switzerland. A Dignitas death occurs in a small house next to a machine-parts factory; there’s no tradition of showing this space to possible future patients. Mallory said that he had found his visit peaceful.

Sources told me that, a few months later, Ursula Mackenzie, then Little, Brown’s C.E.O., attended a dinner where she sat next to the C.E.O. of the publishing house whose job offer had led to Mallory’s promotion. The rival C.E.O. told Mackenzie that there had been no such offer. (Mackenzie declined to comment. The rival C.E.O. did not reply to requests for comment.) When challenged at Little, Brown, Mallory claimed that the rival C.E.O. was lying, in reprisal for Mallory’s having once rejected a sexual proposition.

In August, 2012, Mallory left Little, Brown. The terms of his departure are covered by a nondisclosure agreement. But it’s clear that Little, Brown did not find Mallory’s response about the job offer convincing. “And, once that fell away, then you obviously think, Is he really ill?” the once supportive colleague said. Everything now looked doubtful, “even to the extent of ‘Does his family exist?’ and ‘Is he even called Dan Mallory?’ ”

Mallory was not fired. This fact points to the strength of employee protections in the U.K.—it’s hard to prove the absence of a job offer—but also, perhaps, to a sense of embarrassment and dread. The prospect of Mallory’s public antagonism was evidently alarming: Little, Brown was conscious of the risks of “a fantasist walking around telling lies,” an employee at the company told me. Another source made a joking reference to “The Talented Mr. Ripley”: “He could come at me with an axe. Or an oar.”

In protecting his career, Mallory held the advantage of his own failings: Little, Brown’s reputation would have been harmed by the knowledge that it had hired, and then promoted, a habitual liar. When Mallory left, many of his colleagues were unaware of any unpleasantness. There was even a small, awkward dinner in his honor.

Two weeks before Mallory left Little, Brown, it was announced that he had accepted a job in New York, as an executive editor at William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins. Publishing professionals estimate that his starting salary was at least two hundred thousand dollars a year. That fall, he moved into an apartment in a sixty-floor tower, with a pool, in midtown, and into an office at Morrow, on Fifty-third Street.

He had been hired by Liate Stehlik, Morrow’s widely admired publisher. It’s not clear if Stehlik heard rumors about Mallory’s unreliability—or, to use the words of a former Morrow colleague, the fact that “London had ended in some sort of ball of flame.” Stehlik did not reply to requests for comment for this article.

Whereas in London Mallory had sometimes seemed like a British satire of American bluster, in New York he came off as British. He spoke with an English accent and said “brilliant,” “bloody,” and “Where’s the loo?”—as one colleague put it, he was “a grown man walking around with a fake accent that everyone knows is fake.” The habit lasted for years, and one can find a postman, not a mailman, in “The Woman in the Window.”

Some book editors immerse themselves in text; others focus on making deals. Mallory was firmly of the latter type, and specialized in acquiring established authors who had an international reach. Before the end of 2012, he had signed Wilbur Smith—once a giant in popular historical fiction (and now, as Mallory put it in an e-mail to friends, “approximately four centuries old”).

At some point that winter, Mallory stopped coming into the office. This mystified colleagues, who were given no explanation.

On February 12, 2013, some people in London who knew Mallory professionally received a group e-mail from Jake Mallory, Dan’s brother, whom they’d never met. Writing from a Gmail address, Jake said that Dan would be going to the hospital the next day, for the removal of a tumor. He’d be having “complicated surgery with several high risk factors, including the possibility of paralysis and/or the loss of function below the waist.” But, Jake went on, “Dan has been through worse and has pointed out that if he could make it through Love Actually alive, this surgery holds no terrors.” Dan would eat “an early dinner of sashimi and will then read a book about dogs until bedtime,” Jake wrote, adding, “Dan was treated terribly by people throughout his childhood and teenage years and into his twenties, which left him a very deeply lonely person, so he does not like/trust many people. Please keep him in your thoughts.”

That e-mail appears to have been addressed exclusively to contacts in the U.K. The next day, Jake sent an e-mail to acquaintances of Dan’s in the New York publishing world. It noted that Dan would soon be undergoing surgery to address “a tumor in his spine,” adding, “This isn’t the first (or even second) time that Dan has had to undergo this sort of treatment, so he knows the drill, although it’s still an unpleasant and frightening proposition. He says that he is looking forward to being fitted with a spinal-fluid drain and that this will render him half-man, half-machine.”

Recipients wrote back in distress. An editor at a rival publishing house told me, “I totally fell for it. After all, who would fabricate such a story? I sent books and sympathies.” In time, Jake’s exchanges with this editor became “quippy and upbeat.” Another correspondent told Jake that his writing was as droll as Dan’s.

Jake’s styling of “e.mail” was unusual. The next week, Dan wrote to Chris Parris-Lamb, the agent. He began, “Wanted to thank you for your very lovely e.mail to my brother.”

Given the idiosyncrasy of “e.mail”—and given Dan’s taste for crafted zingers, and his history of fabrication—it’s now easy to suppose, as one recipient put it, that “something crazy was going on,” and that “Jake” was Dan. Like Tom Ripley writing letters that were taken as the work of the murdered Dickie Greenleaf, Dan was apparently communicating with friends in a fictional voice. (Online impersonations also figure in the plot of “The Woman in the Window.”)

Jake Mallory is thirty-five. He’s a little shorter than Dan, and doesn’t have the same lacrosse-player combination of strong chin and floppy hair. The week of Dan’s alleged surgery, while Jake was supposedly by his side in New York, Jake’s fiancée posted on Facebook a professional “pre-wedding” photograph of the couple. In it, she and Jake, who got married that summer, look happy and hopeful. Jake Mallory did not respond to requests for comment. Dan Mallory, through the spokesperson, said that he was “not the author of the e-mails” sent by “Jake.”

On February 14, 2013, a “Jake” message to New York contacts described overnight surgery—uncommon timing for a scheduled procedure—in an unspecified hospital. “My brother’s 7-hour surgery ended early this morning,” the e-mail began. “He experienced significant blood loss—more so than is common during spinal surgeries, so it required two transfusions. However, the tumor appears to have been completely removed. His very first words upon waking up were ‘I need vodka.’ ” I was told that a recipient sent vodka to Dan’s apartment, and was thanked by “Jake,” who reported that his brother roused himself just long enough to say that the sender was a goddess.

The ventriloquism is halfhearted. Dan’s own voice keeps intruding, and the hurried sequence of events suggests anxiety about getting the patient home, and returning him to a sparer, mythic narrative of endurance and wit. While in a New York hospital, Dan was a dot on the map, exposed to visitors. Reports from the ward would require the clutter of realist fiction: medical devices, doctors with names.

“Jake” continued, “He has been fitted with a ‘lumbar drain’ in his back to drain his spinal fluid. The pain is apparently quite severe, but he is on medicine.” (A Britishism.) “He is not in great shape but did manage to ask if he could keep the tumor as a pet. He will most likely be going home today.”

On February 15th, “Jake” wrote an e-mail to Parris-Lamb: “We’re anticipating a week or so of concentrated rest, the only trick will be finding enough reading material to keep his brain occupied.” A week later, Dan Mallory, writing from his own e-mail address, sent Parris-Lamb the note thanking him for the “very lovely e.mail”—which, he said, had “warmed my black heart.” Mallory went on, “Today I start weaning myself—I’ll just let that clause stand on its own for a minute; are you gagging yet?—off my sweet sweet Vicodin, so am at last fit to correspond. Feeling quite spry; the wound is healing nicely, and I’m no longer wobbly on my feet. Not when sober, at any rate.”

Mallory suggested meeting the agent for drinks, or dinner, a week or two later. Writing to another contact, he described an impending trip to London, for which he was packing little more than “a motheaten jumper.” On February 26th, twelve days after seven-hour spinal surgery, Mallory wrote to Parris-Lamb to say that he was in Nashville, for work.

Three days later, “Jake” wrote another group e-mail, saying that “an allergic reaction to a new pain killer” had caused Dan “to go into shock and cardiac arrest.” He went on, “He was taken to the hospital on time and treated immediately and is out of intensive care (still on a respirator and under sedation). While this setback is not welcome it is not permanent either, and at least Dan can now say he has had two lucky escapes in the space of two months.” “Jake” went on, “The worst is past and we are hoping he can go back to his apartment this weekend and then pick up where he left off. This would daunt a mere mortal but not my brother.”

At the end of March, late at night, “Jake” wrote again to London contacts. Dan was “in decent physical shape,” but was upset about the “painful upheaval” of the previous year—and about an e-mail, written by an unnamed Little, Brown executive, that seemed to “poke fun at him.” Dan felt “utterly let down” and was “withdrawing into himself like a turtle.”

“Jake” noted that Dan had been “working with abused children and infants at the hospital where he was treated.” The previous week, “Jake” had seen Dan “talking to a little girl whose arm had been broken for her,” he wrote, adding, “My brother’s arm was broken for him when he was a baby.” This phrasing seems to stop just short of alleging parental abuse. (The theme of childhood victimization, sometimes an element of “Jake” e-mails sent to London associates, did not appear in the New York e-mails.) “Jake” went on, “He wrote the little girl a story about a hedgehog in his nicest handwriting to show her how she could rebound from a bad experience. I want for him to do the same, although I understand that he is tired of having to rebound from things.”

The same night the “Jake” e-mail was sent, an ex-colleague of Mallory’s at Little, Brown received an anonymous e-mail calling her one of the “nastiest c*nts in publishing.” Mallory was asked about the e-mail, and was told that Little, Brown would contact law enforcement if anything similar happened again. It didn’t. (Through the spokesperson, Mallory said that he did not write the message and “does not recall being warned” about it.) In “The Woman in the Window,” Anna Fox seeks advice about a threatening anonymous e-mail, and is told that “there’s no way to trace a Gmail account.”

A week later, in an apparent attempt at a reset, Dan Mallory wrote a breezy group e-mail under his own name. The cancer surgery, he said, had been “a total success.” A metal contraption was attached to his spine, so he was now “half-man, half-machine.” He noted that he’d just seen “Matilda” with his parents.

When Mallory returned to work that spring, after several weeks, nothing was said. A former co-worker at Morrow, who admires him and still has only the vaguest sense of a health issue, told me that Mallory “seemed the same as before.” He hadn’t lost any weight or hair.

After his return, Mallory came to work on a highly irregular schedule. Unlike other editors, he rarely attended Wednesday-afternoon editorial meetings. At one point, another co-worker began keeping a log of Mallory’s absences.

Mallory bought a one-bedroom apartment in Chelsea, for six hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. He decorated it with images and models of dogs, a framed sign reading “Amagansett,” and a reproduction of a seventeenth-century engraving of New College, Oxford.

Morrow executives either believed that Mallory’s cancer story was real or decided to live with the fact that it was not. Explaining Morrow’s accommodation of its employee, a former colleague said that Mallory’s focus on international deals protected him, adding, “Nothing’s more important than global authors.” The co-worker went on, “There’s a horror movie where all the teachers in a school have been infected by an alien parasite. The kids realize it, and of course nobody believes them. That’s what it felt like.” The co-worker described Mallory’s “gaslighting, lying, and manipulation” in the workplace as cruel, but noted, “People don’t care, if it’s not sexual harassment.” A Morrow spokesperson released a statement: “We don’t comment on the personal lives of our employees or authors. Professionally, Dan was a highly valued editor, and the publication of ‘The Woman in the Window’—a #1 New York Times bestseller out of the gate, and the bestselling debut novel of 2018—speaks for itself.”

An acquaintance of Mallory’s recently said that “there’s not a lot of confrontation” in publishing. “It’s a business based on hope. You never know what’s going to work.” In the industry, rumors about the “Jake” e-mails were contained—perhaps by discretion or out of people’s embarrassment about having been taken in.

I recently spoke with Victoria Sanders, an agent who represents Karin Slaughter, the thriller writer. In 2015, Slaughter signed a three-book deal, for more than ten million dollars, involving Mallory and a British counterpart. Sanders viewed Mallory as Slaughter’s “quarterback,” adding, “His level of engagement made him really quite extraordinary.”

The editor at a rival publishing house who’d had “quippy” exchanges with the Jake persona said of the episode, “Even now it seems a bizarre, eccentric game, but not threatening.” “Jake” hadn’t asked for cash, so it wasn’t an “injurious scam.” The editor said, “This seemed almost performance art.” Chris Parris-Lamb, however, was affronted, in part because someone close to him had recently died from cancer.

The acquaintance who described an industry “based on hope” didn’t see Mallory for a few years, then made plans to meet him for a work-related drink, in Manhattan. Mallory said that he was now well, except for an eye problem. His eye began to twitch. Mallory’s companion asked after Jake. “Oh, he’s dead,” Mallory said. “Yes, he committed suicide.” The acquaintance recalled to me that, at that moment, “I just knew I was never going to correspond or deal with him again.”

In 2013, Sophie Hannah met Mallory for the first time, over lunch in New York. They discussed plans, already set in motion in London, for Hannah to write the first official Agatha Christie continuation novel. William Morrow would publish it in the U.S. They also discussed Hannah’s non-Christie fiction, which later also came to Morrow. Hannah, who lives in Cambridge, recently said by phone that they quickly became friends. Mallory “renewed my creative energy,” she said. He had a knack for “giving feedback in the form of praise for exactly the things I’m proud of.”

Hannah seems to have found, in Mallory, a remarkable source of material. In 2015, she completed her second Hercule Poirot novel, “Closed Casket.” Poirot is a guest at an Irish country house, and meets Joseph Scotcher, a character whose role can’t be described without spoilers. Scotcher is a charming young flatterer who has told everyone that he is terminally ill, with kidney disease. During Poirot’s visit, Scotcher is murdered, and an autopsy reveals that his kidneys were healthy.

After the murder, Randall Kimpton, an American doctor who is also staying in the house, tells Poirot that he’d become friendly with Scotcher years earlier, at Oxford; he had begun to doubt Scotcher’s dire prognosis, while thinking that “surely no one would tell a lie of such enormity.” Kimpton tells Poirot that he was once approached by someone claiming to be Scotcher’s brother. This brother, who looked identical to Scotcher except for darker skin and a wild beard, had confirmed the kidney disease, and Kimpton had decided “no man of honor would agree to tell a stranger that his brother was dying if it were not so.” But the supposed brother had then accidentally revealed himself to be Scotcher, wearing a beard glued to his face.

A seductive man lies about a fatal disease, then defends the lie by pretending to be his brother. The brother’s name is Blake. When I asked Hannah if the plot was inspired by real events, she was evasive, and more than once she said, “I really like Dan, and he’s only ever been good to me.” She also noted that, before starting to write “Closed Casket,” she described its plot to Mallory: “He said, ‘Yes, that sounds amazing!’ ” Hannah, then, can’t be accused of discourtesy.

But she acknowledged that there were “obvious parallels” between “Closed Casket” and “rumors that circulated” about Mallory. She also admitted that the character of Kimpton, the American doctor, owes something to her former editor. I had noticed that Kimpton speaks with an affected English accent and—in what works as a fine portrait of Mallory, mid-flow—has eyes that “seemed to flare and subside as his lips moved.” The passage continues, “These wide-eyed flares were only seconds apart, and appeared to want to convey enthusiastic emphasis. One was left with the impression that every third or fourth word he uttered was a source of delight to him.” (Chris Parris-Lamb, shown these sentences, said, “My God! That’s so good.”) While Hannah was writing “Closed Casket,” her private working title for the novel was “You’re So Vain, You Probably Think This Poirot’s About You.”

A publishing employee in New York told me that, in 2013, Hannah had become suspicious that Mallory wasn’t telling the truth when he spoke of making a trip to the U.K. for cancer treatment, and had hired a detective to investigate. This suggestion seemed to be supported by an account, on Hannah’s blog, of hiring a private detective that summer. Hannah wrote that she had called him to describe a “weird conundrum.” Later, during a vacation with her husband in Agatha Christie’s country house, in Devon, she called to check on the detective’s progress; he told her that “there was a rumor going round that X is the case.”

“You’re supposed to be finding out if X is true,” Hannah told the detective.

“I’m not sure how we could really do that,” he replied. “Not without hacking e-mail accounts and things like that—and that’s illegal.”

Asked about the blog post, Hannah told me that she had thought of hiring a detective to check on Mallory, and had discussed the idea with friends, but hadn’t followed through. She had, however, hired a detective to investigate a graffiti problem in Cambridge. I said that I found this hard to believe. She went on to say that she had forgotten the detective’s name, she had deleted all her old e-mails, and she didn’t want to bother her husband and ask him to confirm the graffiti story. All this encouraged the thought that the novelist now writing as Agatha Christie had hired a detective to investigate her editor, whom she suspected of lying about a fatal disease.

Hannah—who, according to several people who know her, has a great appetite for discussing Mallory at parties—also seems to have made fictional use of him in her non-Poirot writing. “The Warning,” a short story about psychopathic manipulations, includes an extraordinarily charming man, Tom Rigbey, who loves bull terriers. Hannah recently co-wrote a musical mystery, “The Generalist”; its plot features a successful romance novelist who feels that her publisher has become neglectful, after writing a best-seller of his own.

An American woman in mid-career, a psychologist with a Ph.D. and professional experience of psychopathy, is trapped in her large home by agoraphobia. She has been there for about a year, after a personal trauma. If she tries to go outside, the world spins. She drinks too much, and recklessly combines alcohol and anti-anxiety medication. Police officers distrust her judgment. Online, she plays chess and contributes to a forum for stress-sufferers, a place where danger lies.

This is the setup for “Copycat,” a spirited 1995 thriller, set in San Francisco, starring Sigourney Weaver and Holly Hunter. It also describes “The Woman in the Window.” In “Copycat,” the psychologist’s forum log-in is She Doc. In “Window,” it’s THEDOCTORISIN.

“The Woman in the Window” acknowledges a debt to the film “Rear Window,” by making Anna Fox a fan of noir movies and Hitchcock. And Mallory has publicly referred a few times to “The Girl on the Train,” a well-told story about a boozily unreliable witness, a woman much like Mallory’s boozily unreliable witness. But he hasn’t acknowledged “Copycat”—unless one decides that when, in “The Woman in the Window,” a photograph with a time stamp in its corner downloads from the Internet at a suspenseful, dial-up speed, it is an homage to the same scene in “Copycat,” rather than an indictment of Internet service providers in Manhattan.

When I e-mailed Jon Amiel, the director of “Copycat,” about parallels between the two narratives, he replied, “Wow.” Later, on the phone, he proposed that the debt was probably “not actionable, but certainly worth noting, and one would have hoped that the author might have noted it himself.”

The official origin myth of “The Woman in the Window” feels underwritten. In the summer of 2015, Mallory has said, he was at home for some weeks, adjusting to a new medication. He rewatched “Rear Window,” and noticed a neighbor in the apartment across the street. “How funny,” he said to himself. “Voyeurism dies hard!” A story suggested itself. Mallory is more cogent when reflecting on his shrewdness regarding the marketplace—when he talks about his novel in the voice of a startup C.E.O. pitching for funds. “I bring to ‘The Woman in the Window’ more than thirty years of experience in the genre,” he told a crime-fiction blogger last winter. He explained to a podcast host that, before “Gone Girl,” there had been “no branding” for psychological suspense; afterward, there was vast commercial opportunity. Mallory has said that he favored the pseudonym A. J. Finn in part for its legibility on a small screen, “at reduced pixelation.” He came up with the name Anna Fox after looking for something that was easy to pronounce in many languages.

Mallory has described writing a seventy-five-hundred-word outline and showing it to Jennifer Joel, a literary agent at I.C.M., who is a friend of his; she encouraged him to continue. He has said that he then worked for a year, sustained by Adderall, Coca-Cola, and electronic music. Mallory told the Times that he wrote at night and on the weekends. Former colleagues who had taken note of his office absences were skeptical of this claim.

Paula Hawkins’s “The Girl on the Train” was published in January, 2015. By the summer of 2016, it had sold 4.25 million copies in the U.S. Early that September, just before the release of the film adaptation, it was No. 1 on the Times paperback best-seller list. On September 22nd and 23rd, a PDF of “The Woman in the Window,” by A. J. Finn, was e-mailed to editors in New York and London. Mallory has said that he adopted a pseudonym because he wanted publishers to assess the manuscript without “taking into account my standing in the industry.” This isn’t true, as Mallory has himself acknowledged in some interviews: Jennifer Joel told editors that the author worked at a senior level in publishing.

The editors started reading: “Her husband’s almost home. He’ll catch her this time. There isn’t a scrap of curtain, not a blade of blind, in number 212—the rust-red townhome that once housed the newlywed Motts, until recently, until they un-wed.”

The story feels transposed to New York from a more tranquil place, like North Oxford. The nights are dark; the sound of a cello, or a scream, carries. At the center of the plot are two neighboring houses, on the same side of a street, with side windows that face each other across a garden. This arrangement is easy to find in most parts of the world that aren’t Manhattan.

Mallory cannily set himself the task of popularizing the already wildly popular plot of “The Girl on the Train.” His book consists of a hundred very short chapters, and reads like a film script that has been novelized, on a deadline, under severe vocabulary restrictions: sunshine “bolts in” through a door; eyebrows “bolt into each other”; eyes “bolt open”; one character is “bolted to the sofa”; another has “strong teeth bolting from strong gums.” He then gilded his text with references to Tennyson, Nabokov, and the Pitt Rivers Museum, in Oxford. The over-all effect is a little like reading the e-mails sent by “Jake”: Anna, the narrator, feels subordinate to Mallory’s struttingly insistent voice. It’s much more a Tom Ripley novel than a Patricia Highsmith novel. Instead of Highsmith’s disorienting, erotic discovery of character, “Window” is an enactment of Ripleyan manipulation. It’s a thriller excited about getting away with writing a thriller. In a recent e-mail, Joan Schenkar, the author of “The Talented Miss Highsmith,” an acclaimed biography, described “Window” as a “novel of strategies, not psychologies.” It was, she said, “the most self-conscious thriller I’ve ever opened.”

The selling of “The Woman in the Window” was a perfectly calibrated maneuver, and caused the kind of hoopla that happens only once or twice a year in American publishing. One publisher offered hundreds of thousands of dollars in an effort to preëmpt an auction. This was rejected, and at least eight publishing imprints, including Morrow, began to bid for the North American rights. Meanwhile, offers were being made for European editions, and Fox 2000 bought the film rights.

When the bidding reached seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Mallory revealed his name. A former Morrow employee recalled, “I’d wondered why this person in publishing wants to be anonymous. Then: Oh, that’s why!” Mallory has said that “nobody dropped out” at that point; but many, including Little, Brown, did. When it was announced that Mallory’s employer had won the auction, one joke in New York was “The call was coming from inside the house!”

Morrow sent out a press release saying that Mallory had been “profiled in USA Today”—he hadn’t—and quoting Jennifer Brehl, the Morrow editor who had won the auction. “A. J. Finn’s voice and story were like nothing I’d ever heard before,” she said. “So creepy, sad, twisty-turny, and cunning.” She said that she had not recognized this voice as Mallory’s, and added, “He’s already known as an esteemed editor; I predict a long career as a brilliant novelist, too.” Liate Stehlik, the Morrow publisher, later wrote to booksellers, “I love it, and the only thing I thought when I was reading it was that Morrow must publish this book.”

Mallory stayed on as an editor at Morrow for another year. He set up a corporation, A. J. Finn, Inc., using an Amagansett P.O. box. A photograph of him smiling and unshaven, taken by Hope Brooks, the older of his sisters, began appearing in stories about his success.

The Mallory house in Amagansett is set back from a quiet road; trees line the driveway, joining overhead to form a tunnel. On an overcast morning just before Thanksgiving, I walked up to the house, and reached a garage whose doors were open. An S.U.V. was parked in front; two dogs leaped, barking, from its back seat. (I recalled that, according to Dan Mallory, his mother had, on separate occasions, killed two dogs by backing up over them.)

John Mallory, Dan’s father, came out of the garage, wearing a denim shirt. He is in his mid-sixties, and has a handsome, squarish face. He apologized for the pandemonium, and joked, “I’m just the lawn guy.”

I explained why I was there. “Dan does not want me commenting,” he said. “He’s my son, so I have to respect his privacy.” But his manner was friendly, and the dogs calmed down, and we stood talking for a few minutes. “He’s a wonderful young man, he truly is,” John said.

I said that I’d become interested in Dan’s accounts of cancer—the claim that he’d had a malignant tumor, and that his mother had died of cancer.

“No, no,” he said. He didn’t sound surprised or annoyed—rather, he was obliged to correct a misapprehension. When Dan was a teen-ager, he said, “his mother did have cancer. Stage V, so she was next to death. But, no, Dan didn’t have it. He’s just been an absolutely perfect son. He has his faults, like we all do, he’s just a tremendous young man.”

Did Dan have cancer later? “No, no,” John said, adding that Dan had told him that “he’d been misquoted several times, and it really bothers him when things come out that are negative about him.”

I began to describe the “Jake” e-mails. “Dan and his brother, Jake, are very close,” John said, adding that “Jake would never, ever say” Dan had fallen ill with cancer, because it wasn’t true. I wondered if John had been told that such e-mails existed, and could be explained as the work of a scurrilous third party. They can’t—Dan saw replies written to the “Jake” e-mail address, and responded to them.

When Dan wrote about living in a single-parent family when he was seventeen, was that true?

“No,” John said. “Well, in a way I guess it was, because my wife and I were separated.” They were apart for two and a half years, he said. “She made me come back,” he went on, laughing. “We had our differences. We didn’t file for divorce or anything like that.” He added, “Pam was saying, ‘I think you made a mistake. But it’s up to you.’ And then I realized I’m being an idiot.”

I asked if the separation was difficult for Dan. “Very difficult,” he said. “The family’s very closely knit and to see the dad not there on Thanksgiving or Christmas—Ian, it’s my fault. I hate to this day to think they had a Thanksgiving dinner without me.”

He continued, “Dan went through a tough time, in his teen-age years, but he’s really pulled together.” In the past, “a lot of times, he hid from us.” Now “every morning I get a FaceTime from Dan. He just bought a little French bulldog. Oh, my God, Ian—he bought one three weeks ago, the dog has, like, four thousand toys, a little blanket. He’s just an avid dog-lover, as we all are—as you see. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.” He said that, as far as he knew, Dan had finished his Ph.D.

The dogs started barking again. A car came up the driveway. “Here comes his mother,” John said. “Oh, Lord.”

Pamela Mallory got out of an S.U.V. with a shopping bag. I introduced myself. “We’re not doing that,” she said, walking toward the house. “Thank you.”

In “The Woman in the Window,” much of whose plot this article is about to give away, Anna Fox watches a family move in next door. Ethan, the family’s sorrowful and lonely only child, aged about fifteen, visits Anna. She is filled with pity when he describes a controlling, violent father, and she is struck by his earnestness: he’s prone to tears, and teaches swimming to developmentally disabled children.

Then Ethan murders his mother, and—in the novel’s climax—appears one night in Anna’s bedroom, with a letter opener as a weapon, and a crazed look, saying, “Older women interest me.” In passages that seem more fluent than those which have come before, Ethan acknowledges the matricide, and describes it as “exhilarating.” Sitting on Anna’s bed, playing with the letter opener, he acknowledges other transgressions. By impersonating a friendly grandmother on Anna’s agoraphobia forum, he has tricked her into giving up her passwords. He has copied her house key, allowing him to go in and out of her house. “I come here almost every night,” he says. He forces her to agree that she is “very fucking stupid.” He mocks her—a child psychologist—for not recognizing him for what he is.

“I know what I am,” Ethan tells her. “Does that help?”

Anna says to herself, “Psychopath. The superficial charm, the labile personality, the flat affect.” She then tells him, “You enjoy manipulating others.”

He replies, “It’s fun. And easy. You’re really easy.” He strokes the blade against his thigh. “I didn’t want you to think I was a threat. That’s why I said I missed my friends. And I pretended I might be gay. And I cried all those fucking times.”

Both Ethan’s depression and his account of a vicious father were part of a performance—one effective enough to dupe a psychologist and draw the eye away from personality pathology.

In a Morrow sales brochure, Mallory said that he’d “struggled for more than fifteen years with severe depression,” and that, in 2015, he had finally been given a diagnosis of bipolar II disorder. This announcement surprised the acquaintances of Mallory’s who spoke to me. Over the years, he had been willing to talk of cancer, near-death, and a brother’s suicide, but he hadn’t mentioned mental illness so severe that he’d sought relief in electric shocks and ketamine.

Speaking in Colorado last January, Mallory quoted a passage from Kay Redfield Jamison’s memoir, “An Unquiet Mind,” in which she describes repeatedly confronting the social wreckage caused by her bipolar episodes—knowing that she had “apologies to make.” Nobody I spoke to remembered a Mallory reckoning or an apology. In more recent public appearances, Mallory seems to have dropped this reference to wreckage. Instead, he has accepted credit for his courage in bringing up his mental suffering, and he has foregrounded his virtues. Asked, on an Australian podcast, to define himself in three adjectives, Mallory said, “Inquisitive. Kind—I do think I’m a kind person.” He clicked his tongue. “And I love French bulldogs. I don’t know if there’s an adjective that sums that up.”

Mallory clearly has experienced mental distress. At Mallory’s request, his psychiatrist confirmed to me that Mallory was given a diagnosis of bipolar II. The psychiatrist said that Mallory, because of his mother’s illness, sometimes had “somatic complaints, fears, and preoccupations,” including about cancer. But a bipolar II diagnosis does not easily explain organized untruths, maintained over time. Nigel Blackwood, a forensic psychiatrist at King’s College London, told me that patients with the condition may experience “periods of inflated self-esteem,” but he emphasized that hypomanic episodes “cannot account for sustained arrogant and deceptive interpersonal behaviors.”

Chris Parris-Lamb, the agent, who has a very close family member who is bipolar, said, “I’ve seen the ravages, the suffering that the disease can cause.” He went on, “If Mallory’s deceit is the product of bipolar episodes, then they have been singularly advantageous to his career, and that is unlike any bipolar person I’ve ever encountered. And if he is one of the lucky ones who has managed to get his disease under control and produce a best-selling novel—if he is stable and lucid enough to do that—then he is stable and lucid enough to apologize to the people he lied to and the people he hurt.”

Carrie Bearden, a professor of psychiatry at U.C.L.A., who has not met Mallory, said that a patient with bipolar II disorder cannot attribute to that diagnosis delusions, amnesia, or “chronic lying for secondary gain, or to get attention.” To do so is “very irresponsible,” she said, and could add to the “already huge stigma associated with these disorders.”

On January 30th, a public-relations firm working on Mallory’s behalf provided The New Yorker with a statement from him: “For the past two years, I’ve spoken publicly about mental illness: the defining experience of my life—particularly during the brutal years bookending my late twenties and mid-thirties—and the central theme of my novel. Throughout those dark times, and like many afflicted with severe bipolar II disorder, I experienced crushing depressions, delusional thoughts, morbid obsessions, and memory problems. It’s been horrific, not least because, in my distress, I did or said or believed things I would never ordinarily say, or do, or believe—things of which, in many instances, I have absolutely no recollection.”

He went on, “It is the case that on numerous occasions in the past, I have stated, implied, or allowed others to believe that I was afflicted with a physical malady instead of a psychological one: cancer, specifically. My mother battled aggressive breast cancer starting when I was a teenager; it was the formative experience of my adolescent life, synonymous with pain and panic. I felt intensely ashamed of my psychological struggles—they were my scariest, most sensitive secret. And for fifteen years, even as I worked with psychotherapists, I was utterly terrified of what people would think of me if they knew—that they’d conclude I was defective in a way that I should be able to correct, or, worse still, that they wouldn’t believe me. Dissembling seemed the easier path.”

He continued, “With the benefit of hindsight, I’m sorry to have taken, or be seen to have taken, advantage of anyone else’s goodwill, however desperate the circumstances; that was never the goal.”

A paperback edition of “The Woman in the Window” was published in the U.K. in December, and the novel immediately returned to the best-seller list; the U.S. paperback will appear next month, with a first print run of three hundred and fifty-five thousand copies. The movie adaptation, written by the Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Tracy Letts, is scheduled to be released on October 4th.

Mallory has said that his second novel will be set in San Francisco. It will have the flavor of an Agatha Christie story, and will be partly set in a Victorian mansion. It’s a story of revenge, he has said, involving a female thriller writer and an interviewer who learns of a dark past. He hopes to turn it into a television series.

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