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Tiffany Trump intrigues me. If I had to write Trump-inspired fiction (which I probably won’t), I would definitely focus on the member of the extended family who is the least-loved, least-considered, most likely to rebel or implode.

The elements are there. The aspirational older sister. The smug older brothers. Little Barron, who is either spoiled or depressed or both. The icy stepmother who sounds like a Russian spy from an ’80s movie, and would do anything in her power to defend her husband (and hardly talks to Tiffany when she comes over, as she reminds her of the Other Woman Who Became a Wife and also appears to have inherited a combination of undesirable genetic traits: Melania doesn’t like ugly people). The bitter mother, weighed down by the conditions of the NDA she agreed to upon the divorce. The first wife, a distant figure who knows things and maybe, after all these years, has built a secret First Wives Club-like relationship with the woman who ended her marriage. And of course, the dad.

There. Now I want to write it. See what you made me do?

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