Adrift in her unfulfilling life, Gia writes to a woman she greatly admires: Marta Beckett. A peculiar footnote to recent American history, Beckett, a retired ballerina, built a grand opera house in Death Valley - complete with painted fake audience - before dying in 2017.
This sounds like a gem, Bram. Is it just me or is there a bit of a zeitgeist going on with respect to ghosts and Saints in novellas?