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.
Amy Arbus. Puddle, New York City.
“When I ask to photograph someone, it is because I love the way they look and I think I make that clear. I’m paying them a tremendous compliment. What I’m saying is, I want to take you home with me and look at you for the rest of my life.” —Amy Arbus
