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.
The first major US exhibition of Sam Taylor-Wood’s work closed on Sunday, a MOCA Cleveland show of her “Crying Men” series, for which she asked Hollywood actors to produce real tears, and then, you know, be photographed. A few examples are below, and I really like these. S T-W is all the rage in the UK, but its glad to see she’s getting some play stateside—she just had to call on A-List L.A. to do it, as one must with most things on these shores.
(ps thanks magohasblog for noticing these too)
