Writer/editor. New Mexican tumbleweed blown east to skyscraper country.
Right now, I am working on a book about F. Scott Fitzgerald, Sheilah Graham, and Hollywood in the 1930s. It will also contain a lot of drinking, powder blue suits, dances at the Cocoanut Grove, betrayal, gossip columns, crazy ladies, secret Jews, film lot moguls, and Dorothy Parker quips at funerals. If the world is still around then, it should be out from Random House around 2014. So let's hope the Mayans were wrong.
If you want to say hi please do. Or find me in short form, here.
Two dancers recently made a film about the revival of one of choreographer Jerome Robbins’ greatest (and for the most part, lost) ballets and shot it all over NYC, including on the High Line at dusk. It just premiered at Lincoln Center, and it looks like a great testament to New York and Jerome and the spirit of the city that makes people want to dance and create, even still. Watch the clip and I think you’ll agree.
