7 DUE DILIGENCE

AND SO I make a pact with myself. I won’t look at any online reviews until Olivia advises me that it is safe to do so. In fact, I will limit all social media until I feel stronger and more confident. Like any addiction, I know this will be difficult. It will require lifestyle changes, the removal of temptation and triggers, but my mental health and productivity are more important. I have an outline to write, a demanding day job, and a daughter to parent through the final months of high school. So I will remove myself from the virtual world… right after I research Ingrid Wandry.

Who is this woman and why does she spend her time attacking strangers online? It would be easy to assume that she’s miserable, angry, and resentful. Perhaps she’s a frustrated writer herself, jealous of those who’ve managed to nab a publishing deal in a difficult industry. Maybe knocking us down makes her feel validated, even powerful. Or maybe Ingrid Wandry had a painful adolescence, and the subject matter of my book triggered memories that caused her to lash out.

But I also know the human capacity for cruelty, and how anonymity increases the desire to hurt others. In my master’s program, we learned about a Stanford study dating back to the sixties. Female students were dressed in plain lab coats, some with hoods that concealed their identity, some with no hoods and name tags. They were then instructed to give other students electric shocks. Those with the hoods were twice as likely to comply. It provided a disturbing glimpse into the human psyche that did not bode well for the faceless internet age.

I dig up Ingrid’s email from my archives and check the address.

Ingrid.Wandry@proton.me

A quick search informs me that Proton Mail is another email service like Gmail or Hotmail, but with enhanced privacy. So it’s not Ingrid’s workplace. It’s not surprising that trolls don’t harass people from the office. I click over to Ingrid Wandry’s profile on Readem.

I.W.

No photo, no cute avatar, only the blank gray silhouette of a generic reader. She has chosen to provide very little information.

Details: Female, United States

About me: Love good books. Hate bad ones.

“And you’re qualified to judge?” I grumble into the silence of my cramped home office. I grab my mug of milky tea and take a sip, looking at the date she joined the forum. It was less than a month ago. Did Ingrid create an account just to roast Burnt Orchid? She has only rated three other books, all of them classics.

The Great Gatsby

Wuthering Heights

Great Expectations

The fact that Dickens only got two stars should console me, but it doesn’t. Ingrid didn’t provide Charles the scathing public denunciation she did me. Why would she bother? Charles is dead. She can’t crush his spirit.

Picking up my phone, I go to Instagram and type in Ingrid’s name. There is only one profile.

Ingrid Wandry

4	82	220
Posts	Followers	Following

I scroll down to look at her photos: One is of a gray cat, its blue eyes staring blankly into the lens; the next is a generic beach scene; and the last two images are of a blond woman in her late twenties or early thirties. In the first portrait, Ingrid appears to be on vacation, perhaps at the mystery beach. She wears a flowy, floral dress, her long pale hair blowing across her features. Behind the scrim I see a pretty, inviting smile. In the next, she’s outside the glass doors of an office, drinking a large, purple smoothie. Her lips are pursed on the straw, but there’s laughter in her eyes. My tormenter has a face… and not one I expected. There are no horns or warts or jagged teeth. Ingrid is an attractive young woman, warm and happy. She looks like a potential friend even.

But she’s not.

I search for the name Ingrid Wandry on Facebook and Twitter, even TikTok though I’m not on the platform and might be doing it wrong.

User not found.

This doesn’t strike me as odd. Until recently, I had no social media presence myself. I know plenty of people who don’t view social media as a necessity. My ex, Adrian, declares the entire virtual world fake and toxic and will never partake. It’s not surprising that there are other like-minded individuals out there. I try a straight-up Google search.

Did you mean:
Ingrid Wander	Ingrid Windram	Ingrid Wagner

No, I didn’t.

Ingrid Wandry does not exist outside of Readem and Instagram. I return to her tiny image, stare at her warm smile, her gorgeous hair. Is this even her? Would someone so radiant be capable of spewing such ugliness? And why only about me? (And Dickens, I guess.) But I’ve already given her too much energy.

I vow to ignore social media going forward and turn my attention to my outline.