Last week, my friend said something

that brought me so much joy that I'm now going to share it with you.

We were sitting outside our children’s classrooms. She was braiding her daughter’s hair, as she often is in the morning, and I was babbling away, as I often do in the morning, about god knows what. That particular morning, it was that we had gone, on a previous summer vacation, to Olivia Rodrigo’s favorite thrift store in Salt Lake City. As one does! This led, in quick succession, to something about Zac Efron, which led to my brilliant, gorgeous friend (truly, cannot underscore these descriptors) asking me the greatest question of all time— “Is Zac Efron Nora Ephron’s son?”

I can see it.

Readers, I gasped with delight. It’s the kind of question that works better on air than on the page, when pesky spelling answers the question for you. But let’s just pause there for a second, in the air, and think about it.

I am prone to fantasy, and to concocting or wondering about the inner lives of people I love from afar. I don’t think this is quite the same as a parasocial relationship, but it’s probably not completely different. It’s why my new novel is all about REDACTED. I’ve loved REDACTED since I was a child, the whole concept of REDACTED, and so it was absolute joy for me to spend a year living inside the head of someone just like them. Similarly, let’s just spend a moment with Zac and Nora, son and mother.

My first thought was—it would have been easier for him. I don’t know what his parents were/are like, but I think his entry would have been easier, more high-brow, perhaps. I’m thinking of Nancy Meyers’ daughters and their bit parts in her movies, now making movies of their own. He is funny—he’s always been funny—but with a mother like that, just imagine the wit behind those sparkly eyes!

They both feel about their necks. I imagine them in an elevator at Saks Fifth Avenue or Bloomingdales, going to eat salads together, looking at their reflections in the mirror. No one is immune. Maybe she could have helped him keep more of his original face. As with most famous people, I miss his real teeth most of all.

The broken teeth, the fights in downtown LA, the addiction issues. He is searching, right? I’ve seen a few episodes of his show, where he travels with a ‘health expert’ and goes and does cold plunges and tries ayuhuasca etc etc. Have you seen Eugene Levy’s travel show? It’s the opposite of that. It’s a beautiful body in search of something to fill it. I say this with absolute love. I have seen most of Zac Efron’s movies. I love Zac Efron’s movies. My 9 year old and I went through a hardcore High School Musical phase a few years ago, and it was then that I learned that Zac didn’t actually sing in the first movie, that the producers replaced his voice, and he had to fight to let them sing in the subsequent films. They Lena Lamont-ed him! (It’s like Laura Lamont-ing him, only with less sadness and death.) (Inside joke for the tens of you who have read my first novel.)

Nora would have helped. She would have, right? She would have shipped him to rehab, she would have sent him to therapy. In this scenario, I think I’m in Nora Ephron, thinking the Manhattan in me would somehow rescue him from his various demons. I know not everyone can find everything they need here—so many of my friends from childhood have escaped for other places—but I think Zac would have done great here.

When Bob the Drag Queen told Zac Efron’s brother that Zac wasn’t a good actor on this season of The Traitors, I gasped. He is funny and can move his body and has comedic timing, which is impossible to fake.

Here’s what I imagine—him in a normal body. Strong and muscled, sure, but the kind that can be achieved by humans. Parts in good movies. Nora Ephron-type movies, but also! Imagine Zac Efron in fifteen years playing Robert Forster’s part in Jackie Brown. You can see it, right? I want a twinkle, but with wrinkles. It’s okay to wrinkle, Zac, it’s okay not to live forever, to never be seventeen again.

If you haven’t ever read Heartburn, Nora’s perfect novel, please do. Meryl Streep reads the audiobook, which is a layer cake of perfection.

Thank you to my friend for this gift. If you share my vision, please say more, I don’t want to feel alone in this crazy. And Zac, if you’re reading this (please no one give this to him), I believe in you. I think you’d love Nora Ephron. You can even read her in a cold plunge pool. Here’s to you.