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.
Dessie Higgenbottam, David Plowden. 1974.
Interview below from Studio 360: “What’s he going to amount to? All he does is ride trains. And my mother said, leave him alone. We don’t know what he’s doing, but he does. He’s simply gathering grist for the mill.” - David Plowden
