The Trickster Diaries/Chapter 113
And Steven, too, the art agent, was a liar. After redesigning a good portion of the website displaying my visual art, he disappeared, only to reappear a month or so later with the most elaborately fabricated, novella length stories involving shit just this side of alien abduction, hoping I’d buy his explanation.
So, what the hell, I played along.
I played along with Marion, too, a charming gay woman from Chicago, and one of the few remaining followers of my novel. It figured. She’d had a rough coming out party circa the early ’70’s, so offbeat was nothing new to her. Didn’t hurt that she was a Buddhist, either. Kind of a fluffy one, signing “Namaste” to every post.
She was also the first to recognize that a little writing detour I was taking—kind of a screen treatment for a supposedly British detective story I’d created called The Hanged Girls—featured a DCI who, obvious to Marion, was my alter ego.
Genuinely thrilled at her discovery—and much to her delight—I introduced her, in the following segment, as the DCI’s brilliant sidekick, Detective Glick.
A few installments of the story down the road, The Hanged Girls was catching on in FB-land, Marion’s DS character and her relationship with the Inspector coming into focus, the plot turning in unanticipated directions, then…
No more Marion.
No response, no explanation, no nothing.
She still posted her happy Buddhist/lesbo shit on her own feed, still responded to comments, but was suddenly and conspicuously absent from my feed.