New York Times bestselling author of Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs and Downtown Owl , “the Ethicist” of the New York Times Magazine , Chuck Klosterman returns to fiction with his second novel—an imaginative page-turner about a therapist and her unusual patient, a man who can render himself invisible. Therapist Victoria Vick is contacted by a cryptic, unlikable man who insists his situation is unique and unfathomable. As he slowly reveals himself, Vick becomes convinced that he suffers from a complex set of delusions: Y__, as she refers to him, claims to be a scientist who has stolen cloaking technology from an aborted government project in order to render himself nearly invisible. He says he uses this ability to observe random individuals within their daily lives, usually when they are alone and vulnerable. Unsure of his motives or honesty, Vick becomes obsessed with her patient and the disclosure of his increasingly bizarre and disturbing tales. Over time, it threatens her career, her marriage, and her own identity. Interspersed with notes, correspondence, and transcriptions that catalog a relationship based on curiosity and fear, The Visible Man touches on all of Chuck Klosterman’s favorite themes—the consequence of culture, the influence of media, the complexity of voyeurism, and the existential contradiction of normalcy. Is this comedy, criticism, or horror? Not even Y__ seems to know for sure. “Richly drawn and dryly funny…Klosterman is terrifically expressive, funny company.... Klosterman’s unique voice is never less than right out in the open.” — Los Angeles Times Chuck Klosterman is the bestselling author of ten nonfiction books (including The Nineties ; Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs ; and But What If We’re Wrong? ), two novels ( Downtown Owl and The Visible Man ), and the short story collection Raised in Captivity . He has written for The New York Times , The Washington Post , Esquire , Spin , The Guardian , The Believer , and ESPN. Klosterman served as the Ethicist for The New York Times Magazine and was an original founder of the website Grantland with Bill Simmons. He was raised in rural North Dakota and now lives in Portland, Oregon. The Visible Man FROM THE OFFICE OF VICTORIA VICK 1711 Lavaca St. Suite 2 Austin, TX 78701 vvick@vick.com July 5, 2012 Crosby Bumpus Simon & Schuster 1230 Ave. of the Americas 11th Floor New York, NY 10020-1586 Mr. Bumpus: Well, here it is. I never thought I’d type that sentence, but now I have! This is such a bizarre sensation, Crosby. I have no idea how you’re going to react to what’s here, but I’m exhilarated, terrified, and mentally prepared for whatever is supposed to happen next. Let me reiterate (one last time) how flattered I am by your dogged interest in this project and how grateful I am for your limitless reserve of support, despite the apprehensions of your publishing house, your co-workers, your new boyfriend (!), and every other rational person in your life. If this really works out, it will be a testament to your vision and spirit. I know we’ve had this discussion dozens of times over the telephone, but I need to say it once more, just to satisfy my own conscience: I am not a writer. I have no further ambitions in this regard, and this is the only manuscript I’ll ever submit to a publisher. I also need to stress (because there seems to be some confusion over this, at least with your assistant and with the woman I spoke with from your publicity department) that I am not a psychiatrist, even though I’ll undoubtedly be described as such if this manuscript is ever received by the world at large. I have not attended medical school and I’m not in a position to prescribe medication. It’s important we’re all clear on this point, because I don’t want to mislead anyone. I received a masters degree in social work from the Univ. of Texas after earning an undergraduate degree in psychology from Davidson College in North Carolina. I do not have a Ph.D. I’ve been a licensed therapist and analyst for exactly twenty-one years, but my roster of clients is small (no more than twelve patients in any given week) and has never included anyone of public interest, sans the lone individual I will describe in the enclosed file. I’m sure my professional credentials will be savaged, but—if that has to happen—I want them to be savaged for the proper reasons. Is this manuscript ready for publication? I think we both agree it is not (nor does my agent). I have no idea how the fact-checking process works in your industry, but I cannot fathom any system that would accept the majority of this text on face value. Like I said in our very first conversation: I can’t verify the story I’m trying to tell. All I have are the tapes (which prove nothing) and one photograph of a seemingly empty chair. How will this not be a marketing disaster? I know you’re strongly against recasting this work as fiction (and my agent has already informed me that s