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.
Speaking of supporting Obama, this story may just cross over from helpful stumping territory into the cringy oversharing zone. It reminds me of that line from The Truth About Cats and Dogs (I know…trust, I had no clue that film was still in there somewhere) that goes, “You can love your pets, just don’t love your pets.” But you know, replace pets with candidates.
