Some writers have the problem of not wanting people they know to read their work; they fear how a relative or friend will see themselves portrayed. I have the opposite problem: the person who’s inspired one of my favorite characters to write, ever, is unfindable. In this age of social media, there’s no sign of Shinobu, a character my early readers and editors have adored, a fictional version of someone I adored who made such an impression, whose kindness toward me far outstripped mine toward him — or to perhaps any friend I’d had yet in my life at that point.