Selina Search results for: Selina Chan 1 m ago wow, Selina Chan really is that mean irl, lol ... 1 m ago Did any of you WATCH the video? Selina Chan didn’t do anything that deserved a confrontation. She reviewed a book. Leave it to some entitled man to take issue with a woman doing her job. 1 m ago Selina Chan thinks she’s that bitch but she’s just a bitch. Like girlie you are not that important sit tf down. 2 m ago My opinion on The Video is that both Selina Chan and Parker Navarro could get it “Have a seat,” said Scott. I balked. He was sitting in his usual place at the round table. Beside him, wearing a fixed smile that promised death, sat Hayden. “We’re not firing you,” Scott added. “Yet,” Hayden said. This clarified nothing about whether I’d ruined my life. I lowered myself into a chair. “Before you say anything, I’m sorry.” “Obviously.” Scott leveled an uncomprehending look through his glasses. “I mean, for goodness’ sake, Selina. Why didn’t you just leave?” I folded my hands on the table. It wouldn’t sound professional to plead temporary insanity, or to admit that even now, the memory of Parker Navarro’s martyred expression made me want to shatter something. Poor baby, rolling in his piles of hundred-dollar bills! “You’re right,” I said stiffly. “Yes. I should have left.” “But you didn’t,” said Hayden. “And now we all have to try to salvage the situation. Even us ... what was it? ‘Venture vultures’?”
I winced. Hayden crossed her arms and leaned toward me. She’d tinted her lips in that gradient style, the inner edge darker than the outer. She looked like she’d recently drunk somebody’s blood. “Luckily for you, Scott’s been reminding me how much of a value add you are to this team, in terms of engagement.” “Right. Thank—” She held up a hand. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to write a statement. You’ll apologize to Parker Navarro. You’ll apologize to our subscribers. You’ll remind everybody that thanks to Nextward, City is in a better spot financially than it’s been for a decade—which is true, in case you forgot.” I bit down on my cheek. Yes, technically, our financials had stabilized, after six months of watching our ferociously talented coworkers pack their desks and say they’d go into marketing. “And,” Hayden went on, “you’ll publish a retraction about Parker Navarro’s new book.” The words hit like a slap. “What?” “You heard me.” “I can’t do that,” I said. “Yes, you can. Or you can hand in your resignation.” “Hayden, I can’t retract a review. It’ll cast doubt on our entire editorial process.” Scott broke his silence. “Selina’s right. Moving to change the piece suggests that we might have published it to target Parker Navarro. Our credibility would suffer enormously.” The frustration ballooned in my chest. “I’m sorry, but I have to say this: Any apology is going to suggest there’s something questionable about our process. Or that there’s something remotely acc eptable about an author tracking me down at a party to pick a fight about a review.” I moved to the edge of my seat. “Hayden, I shouldn’t have had the argument. I know that. But backing down isn’t the answer. It’s a disservice to our readers.”
“Oh, please—our readers? Don’t pretend you were thinking about our readers last night. Do you think they wanted you to say any of that?” Scott held up an index finger. “Actually, Hayden...” He rotated his laptop to show her a graph, a line tracking along at the bottom of the screen. “The data team sent me our subscription numbers this morning.” Scott prodded the final point, which leaped halfway up the screen. “City’s had more new subscriptions in the past twelve hours than in the last two weeks combined.” Hayden seemed unimpressed. “Well, yeah. That video is everywhere. More awareness means more subscribers. That doesn’t mean people like anything Selina said.” “But they do,” Scott said. “The reactions aren’t universally positive, but...” With another few clicks, he pulled up a couple of posts on Bluesky: @narizsuperlativa: Was Selina Chan wrong? Every corner of publishing has become obsessed with hype, buzz, and relentless bite-sized positivity to the point that criticism is existentially endangered. Sorry your feelings got hurt, Parker, but if you don’t have sharks in the literary ecosystem, you get fifty thousand minnows, where every minnow is some terrible book that publishers are trying to sell to you as the Second Coming of Sally Rooney. 7,187 likes 1,320 r eposts @arslonga_vitabrevis: Hilarious that people are offended by Selina Chan talking about paywalls, like a journalist’s livelihood has no relation to her publication’s financial solvency. 5,226 likes 522 r eposts “Yes,” I said, pointing to the posts. “This is who we’re writing for. If I go back on everything I said last night, it’s going to alienate these people, who probably make up our whole subscriber base.”
Scott nodded. “When op-eds come out about this, I’m expecting journalists to sympathize with Selina, too. Critics need to write honestly about what they feel.” Hayden’s pale blue eyes bordered on bloodshot. They studied the graph of subscribers, unblinking. “So, you think we can build on this? How?” “By refusing to let Parker Navarro dismiss our work,” I said immediately. “People have clearly forgotten why magazines like City matter. That’s a conversation we should be having.” “I’m not interested in what you think is culturally important, Selina,” Hayden said. “I’m talking about City’s bottom line. I’m asking if sticking to your guns is going to grow our market or shoot us in the foot.” “Well, I don’t think defending our worth to people is going to lose us any subscribers.” I let out a short breath. “Look, haven’t you been telling us for months to ... to use socials more aggressively for cross-platform content engagement?” The effort it took me to speak these words with a straight face was incredible. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “Well, if I’m going to bat for City, I’ll finally have something to say on social media. I’ll—I’ll sign up for”—I waved at Scott’s screen—“this stuff.” Hayden shook her head. “The optics are only going to get worse if you waltz onto socials to double down while Parker Navarro writes out some heartfelt apology.” “Apology?” said Scott. “He’s not apologizing, Hayden. Haven’t you seen the Times?” “What?” said Hayden. “What did he say in the Times?” I said. Scott navigated to a new tab and opened the article. Hayden and I hunched closer to read.
By the bottom of the page, my hands had curled into fists on the table. “This is what I’m talking about!” I said. “We can’t just sit back and let him say this about us to millions of readers. People have to see that he’s not some brave truth teller who’s right about the future of media. He’s just another entitled, mediocre writer with an ego the size of Siberia.” Hayden raked her fingers through her glimmering highlights. Her eyes narrowed on the Times interview. In that moment, I knew that however much she hated me, Navarro’s comments had just made him the bigger threat. “Fine,” she said. “Get him.” Excerpt: “Viral Video Captures Face-Off Between Bestselling Author, Critic” This article has been updated to reflect additional commentary. ... “[O] bviously, I’m not thrilled that our conversation was filmed,” said Navarro, “and I think Selina would agree. But this could be the threshold of a productive dialogue. Authors aren’t allowed to respond to even the most virulent, ad hominem criticism. The aftermath of a negative review can be destructive and isolating.” And the future of City? To that, Navarro said, “I have nothing but respect for City as a historical institution, but personally, I don’t see a place in any reasonable literary future for teeth-bared takedowns like Selina Chan’s, which encourage gleeful dogpiles instead of artistic open- mindedness. In an industry designed to s eparate the wheat from the chaff at every level pr epublication, you have to ask yourself what the function of a negative review is. A simple buyer beware? Hobbyist academic analysis? An exposé on the critic’s precious feelings? More and more, it seems like the latter, like this
brand of prescriptive criticism is designed to reduce the scope of literary culture and chastise those who dare to enjoy the difficult or offbeat.” In a request for comment, Chan r eplied, “I see that Parker Navarro, as usual, has used two hundred words where he could have used twenty.” “I can’t believe he’s saying all this,” I muttered as Jacob slid a mug of chai over to me. “Thank you.” “Want one of these?” asked Cassie, withdrawing from a cabinet with a shortbread cookie sticking out of her mouth. “Yes, please. You’re the best.” “I know.” She shook a cookie into my palm before dropping back down on the rug, where Lyra was thrusting wooden animal heads into a board painted to look like a zoo enclosure. “No, baby,” said Cassie encouragingly. “Look, you’re making a cursed chimera again.” I’d come straight from work to Jacob and Cassie’s apartment. This was one of my favorite places in the world, a brick-walled loft with a subzero sense of visual unity. The rug that Lyra and Cassie sprawled upon was an enormous, psychedelically colored diamond with one point under a midcentury sofa and the other under an antique vinyl stand. The lights were black metal cones suspended from eight feet of cord. A steel counter ran along one wall toward a set of modular plastic bookshelves, giving the far corner a retrofuturistic look. It was a place with no self-control, crammed full of every beautiful thing Jacob and Cassie could imagine. The same way they lived their lives. Jacob and I were sitting at the kitchen island, halfway in and halfway out of our phones. “Why wouldn’t he ke ep this going?” Jacob said, scrolling. “Look at the benefits.”
“What benefits?” “Uh, Exhibit A.” Jacob showed me his screen—the Amazon page for High and Dry—and pointed to the sales ranking: #12 in Books. At this moment, Parker Navarro was selling more copies than the Bible. More copies, even, than Colleen Hoover. “What the fuck,” I said to Amazon dot com. “What?” said Cassie. “Share with the class.” Jacob handed over his phone, and Cassie let out a bemused murmur. “Wait, is this just because of the video? No offense, Selina, but who outside publishing thinks this is interesting?” “Lots of people,” said Jacob. “It’s on the front page of Reddit. It’s all over Bluesky and Threads and Twitter. The internet loves taking sides.” “Great!” I said. “So people have decided to take the millionaire’s side. Very reasonable.” Cassie laughed. “Dude, take the win. Just think about those sweet, sweet subscribers.” She was always calling me “dude” or “bro.” Cassie Katayama was a native New Yorker, like Jacob, with a bottomless well of gym-rat affectations. At the moment she was wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the words HIIT. LAB. R EPEAT. Gaping holes where its sleeves had once been showed a slice of neon sports bra and rib tattoos. I sighed. “I know, you’re right.” With a listless swipe I unlocked my phone. The apps now littering my background were pockmarked with red notification circles. They looked diseased. Since I’d joined Threads several hours ago, five thousand people had followed me. My mentions were full of strangers calling me names that I hadn’t been called since I was a teenager, although Scott was right. There was a fair amount of support here, too.
In fact, near the top of my notifications was a post that almost twenty thousand people had liked. “What?” said Jacob. “Someone called Lola Xu tagged me in something.” “Who’s Lola Xu?” “I don’t know. A book person, apparently.” I tapped through to her colorful profile. “God, she has a hundred and twenty thousand followers.” “Does she hate you?” “I don’t think so.” I scanned the post. @Lola Xu: Wow, so, the book world has reached a wild new low if this many people are defending Parker Navarro. He didn’t have to read @Selina Chan’s review! This is just like last year with the Hazel Samuels debacle in my comments lol. Friendly reminder for the millionth time: Reviews aren’t for authors, they’re for readers!! Authors, LEAVE US ALONE! I hesitated, then hit R eply. @Selina Chan: @Lola Xu Thank you. I appreciate the support. I’m sorry to hear you had a similar experience online. Within a moment, she’d r eplied: @Lola Xu: @Selina Chan Omg I can’t believe you r eplied. You’re a huge inspiration to me! I’m sorry this is happening. I can’t understand how people are defending a man cornering a woman in a back room, yelling at her to change her opinion. I set my phone down, a headache pulsing at the crown of my head. The day had been so loud, so fast, so unrelenting. “Hey. Drink your tea,” Jacob said. “Maybe help the gremlin make an animal that isn’t an unholy monster.” I glanced down at a delighted Lyra, who had managed to force a snake’s head onto the body of a fox. “Amazing,” I said. “Right out of Revelations.”
“Selina, I don’t know why you’re so miserable,” said Cassie, unplugging the snake head from the board while Lyra stared at her with de ep betrayal. “I thought you’d be thrilled to tear the guy’s head off in the Times.” “Well, no, I don’t mind that. Since it’s him.” I paused. “But I’ve never wanted to get in volved in all this public-facing, personality-politics stuff.” “Why not?” I gave Cassie a questioning look. “Would you like it?” “Not at all.” She leaned back against the sofa, hands behind her head. “And that’s why I go into the lab every day and scrape my bacteria out of a centrifuge, instead of getting into a ninety percent public-facing field like, say, literary criticism.” I couldn’t help a smile. “Okay. Yes. I want to share my criticism with people. That doesn’t mean I want to share anything else, though.” I gestured with my phone. “I mean, this is why. Overnight, hundreds of thousands of people have opinions on who I am. What am I supposed to do with that?” Cassie shrugged. “Nothing. Those aren’t informed opinions.” I didn’t r eply. It wasn’t like I was so beloved among people with informed opinions, either. Jacob must have followed my train of thought, because he asked, “Did you text your parents?” “No.” “You don’t think they’d want to hear ab—” “Not really, no.” I went back to my phone as Jacob and Cassie exchanged a glance in my peripheral vision. Then my timeline reloaded. At the top, the algorithm suggested a post by Parker Navarro. @Parker Navarro Writes: Wow. Thank you so much, everybody, for your kind messages. I’m trying to r eply to everyone, but it’s been an
intense day, to say the least—in the best possible way. I couldn’t have anticipated that The Video, haha, would resonate with so many of my fellow authors and “Jesus Christ,” I said, slapping my phone down on the island. “He’s loving this.” I stood up and strode to the world map mounted on Jacob and Cassie’s travel wall. I seized the cherry-red head of an unevenly positioned pin and pushed it harder into Île de Ngor. “This whole circus act! He’s lapping it up.” I stormed back to the island, grabbed my phone again, and tapped through to Navarro’s profile, seething. The man was truly everything that was wrong with publishing. Bad books. Big ego. That obnoxious, brooding profile picture, like he was auditioning to be on the cover of Vogue. Even more infuriating was the stream of fawning r eplies to every one of his paragraph-long posts. Everyone who’s ever created something knows how you feel, Parker! Who needs a bunch of elitist tastemakers telling us what to read? Even as I stared into the abyss that was Navarro’s profile, a button reading 1 New Post appeared at the top of his feed. I hit the button, and the post materialized: @Parker Navarro Writes: Curious how the Selina Chans of the world would feel if their hypothetical future novels were subjected to unrelenting, worldwide mockery? I’d always assumed that “seeing red” was a rank cliché, but now it actually happened: a livid crimson flash over my vision. My heart pounding in my throat, I began to type. @Parker Navarro Writes: Curious how the Selina Chans of the world would feel if their hypothetical future novels were subjected to unrelenting, worldwide mockery? 2,187 likes 85 r eposts
@Selina Chan: @Parker Navarro Writes I have no desire to write a book, and it’s childish to expect critics to “graduate” to fiction writing, as though the only way to love something is to imitate it. Hope that helps. 1,899 likes 59 r eposts @Parker Navarro Writes: @Selina Chan Amazing! You’d think someone whose career is built on reading comprehension would understand that I wasn’t trying to imagine some hideous alternate universe where you try—doubtless, with all the empathy and delicacy of an electric chair—to write a novel. My point is that a career critic, someone who’s never put artistic work into the world, can’t imagine the vulnerability in volved. 2,487 likes 44 r eposts @Selina Chan: @Parker Navarro Writes And it will be so brave of you to make yourself vulnerable once you’ve hounded the world’s critics into silence. 2,287 likes 33 r eposts @Parker Navarro Writes: @Selina Chan I’ve never asked for anyone to be hounded into silence! You’re acting like it’s unreasonable to ask that human beings—and, maybe overgenerously, I’m including you in this category—show a little consideration toward their fellow human beings, even when they’re expressing disappointment that they didn’t like a book. I’m sure that must be hard for you. 1,922 likes 39 r eposts @Selina Chan: @Parker Navarro Writes Out of curiosity, are you physically capable of writing three sentences in a row without using an em dash? 3,133 likes 194 r eposts