American literary giant: 1974

The shopkeeper rummaged through the bottom shelf for a while, finally pulling out a crumpled copy of the Miami Herald, three days old, and tossed it onto the counter.

"50 cents."

Lynn paid the bill, tucked the newspaper under his arm, and walked to a bench on the street corner to sit down.

He unfolded the newspaper.

The front page was about the Florida gubernatorial election, nothing special. Pages two and three were local business news.

Until he turned to the fourth edition.

In the bottom left corner, there was a small page, but the title was in bold font.

Jacksonville serial murders: fourth victim's body found, killer still at large.

Lynn's gaze froze.

"Jacksonville, Florida — Local police confirmed Monday that the body of a fourth victim was found in an abandoned warehouse on the east bank of the St. John River."

"As with the previous three cases, some of the victim's organs were removed, and traces of cooking were found at the scene."

"A police spokesperson said the perpetrator was highly organized and had a strong sense of counter-surveillance, and the methods of the crime were ritualistic."

Traces of cooking were observed.

"...Police revealed that the suspect left handwritten letters at each crime scene, containing religious or mystical symbols and words, with disordered grammar but a clear ritualistic tendency."

"The FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit has launched an investigation. According to sources, the suspect may have already left Florida and his current whereabouts are unknown..."

Handwritten letters.

Mystical symbols.

The grammar is messed up.

Lynn put down the newspaper.

He sat on the bench, watching the cars on Sixth Avenue drive past him one by one.

I've found you, my kind.

Lynn remained motionless, his fingers gripping the edge of the Miami Herald.

Lynn remembered the letter with the feather tied to it.

There was no postmark.

There is no bounce address.

It was personally slipped into his mailbox downstairs.

In other words, the person who wrote that letter was in New York.

At a certain intersection, staring at the apartment window, I watched Lynn type line after line on the typewriter.

A real, living, breathing monster read his book, then left a letter in his mailbox and looked at Lynn.

------

"Ring ring!"

The next afternoon, Lynn was sitting by the window basking in the sun when the phone rang at an inopportune moment.

"Mr. Lynn? I'm Diane Fleming from the production team of NBC's 'Culture Battleground'."

What kind of program is "Cultural Battlefield"?

"This is a new program we're planning, and the premiere is scheduled for the last week of May." The woman's voice was very professional. "It's mainly a debate program in the cultural field, and we'd like to invite you to participate in the recording of the first episode."

It's another variety show.

Since "The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson" became a huge hit in New York, various programs and variety shows have approached Lynn. Leia gracefully turned down many of them, telling Lynn, "It's not a writer's style to be on too many shows."

Lynn was silent for a moment, wondering how the show got his private phone number.

He said, "How did you get my phone number?"

"Oh, that's right. We have your phone number with our special guest for this episode."

The person on the other end of the phone spoke rapidly again:

"By the way, Mr. Lynn, this time we want to make it more formal and more confrontational."

"Adversarial?"

"Four guests, two groups, the theme is 'The Direction of Contemporary American Literature.'" She paused, flipping through her papers. "We would like to invite you and Mr. Stephen King to be one group—"

"gold?"

"Yes, Mr. King has agreed in principle. The other group—" she paused, "is Mr. Truman Capote and Mr. Paul Schrader."

Lynn took the phone away from her ear, looked at the receiver, and put it back.

Which two are you referring to?

"Mr. Capote and Mr. Schrader."

"Whose idea was this?"

"It was Mr. Capote's suggestion. He watched the last episode and specifically requested to debate with you. Mr. Schrader volunteered."

"Self-recommendation?"

"That's right."

Truman Capote and Paul Schrader.

Lynn's two greatest rivals in New York's literary circles. One was an established writer who subtly attacked Lynn at drinking parties, and the other was a well-known screenwriter with whom Lynn had a major feud.

Lynn leaned back in her chair, looking out the window.

The debate with Capote and Schrader was not a debate at all.

It's the Colosseum.

As expected, it came.

"Mr. Lynn?"

"I need a day to think about it."

"Of course. But—"

"I know you're going to say you're short on time," Lynn said. "Give me a day."

He hung up the phone.

He sat at the typewriter for another ten minutes, then stood up, went to the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, and took a couple of sips.

He picked up the phone and turned the dial.

"Lynn?" It was Leia's voice. "What's wrong?"

"NBC just called me again."

"What?"

"A woman named Diane Fleming. The production team of 'Culture Battlefield.' They were going to put on a literary debate, broadcast live, for two hours."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. Leia's silences were always short, but this time it lingered a little longer.

"Who and who?"

"Me, along with Stephen King. Against Truman Capote and Paul Schrader."

Leia didn't speak immediately. Lynn could hear the sound of papers flipping through her hands—she must be taking notes quickly.

"Schrad volunteered," Lynn added.

"Self-recommendation?" Leia's speech finally quickened. "Interesting."

"What do you think their motives are?"

"Capote...Capote wanted to trample you and King in front of a national audience and solidify his position as the 'guardian of serious literature.' Schrader, on the other hand, wanted to use this stage to publicly express his dissatisfaction with the script being rewritten."

So, do you think I should go?

Are you scared?

"I'm calculating the risks."

Leia was silent for two seconds on the other end of the phone. Then she said, "Lynn, last week you stood before all of America and told them that the door to literature should be open to the outside world. Now that the door is open, are you going to back in?"

"That's different. Pratt is a paper tiger."

"What about Capote?"

"It's a real tiger."

Leia chuckled.

"Even real tigers bleed," she said. "I just need you to tell me if you're too scared to go."

"You said that writers shouldn't appear on variety shows."

"It's different this time. It's not a Hollywood star on the other side, it's Truman Capote."

Lynn was silent for a moment, then he said, "I understand. I'll make a call to Stephen King and ask for his opinion."

"Okay, think it through. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Do you know what defeating Capote and convincing Schrader means?"

"What does that mean?"

"That means your sales are very likely to reach number one." Leia chuckled.