After the break, it's 1969, and we've left cozy Briarcliff behind for a bookstore filled with admiring (mostly female) readers, eager to meet the one and only Lana Winters, author of the 10-week bestseller "Maniac: One Woman's Story of Survival." After a rapturous introduction, Lana -- smiling, confident, no traces left of the haunted woman who escaped Briarcliff -- sits down to read from her opus. The prose isn't quite tortured, but it's rather insistent on heavy-handed metaphors and superlatives. And that's before she gets to the part where she just starts making shit up; unless we missed the episode where Thredson brought home another victim to kill in front of Lana. As she gets to the stuff that she clearly fabricated for effect, the figure of Ollie Thredson stars heckling her from the audience. "That never happened!" he objects. Lana, defiant, says that it's what he told her he WOULD do if she didn't comply. "It's still a lie," he says, accusing her of selling out to move more units. Lana says her job as a writer is to tell the "essence of truth." From the other side of the room, Wendy decides to join the party, castigating Lana for de-sexualizing their relationship in print by calling her a "roommate." "That part of my life wasn't pertinent to the book," Lana rationalizes. "It would have distracted the reader from the central theme." Thredson pitilessly accuses Lana of caring only about the fame. Stung by this accusation (coming from her own subconscious, obviously), Lana is speechless, and we see she's been kind of zoning out this whole time. Of course, this is interpreted as a very deep moment of truth by the moderator and the women in attendance, because "The Emperor's New Clothes" doesn't require a complete charlatan to apply.
Later, Lana is signing books for the assembled masses. She's also being a total nightmare to her assistant, snapping at her to go across the street if necessary to fetch her a cold Tab. Next in line is a familiar face: Kit Walker. Lana is overjoyed to see him, and gets up to hug her old friend. She tells him she was so sorry to hear about Grace and that she meant to write, but... you know. That's right. It's not that Lana didn't VISIT. She didn't even WRITE. That's tough. Kit doesn't even bother to let her off the hook, finding the most amiable way to be like, "Yeah, that would have been nice." Lana hauls out the excuse that will outlive time itself. You've used it, so have I: "Things have been soooooo crazy!" Lana's managed to turn into that special brand of douchebag who can pivot off of regrets that she didn't acknowledge the murder of a mutual friend to bragging about selling the film rights to her book. Not a good look, Lana. Kit tries very, very hard to be happy for her as she yammers on about hoping to get Tuesday Weld to play her. He finally asks her to go get a cup of coffee with him.