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.
Mike Disfarmer maintained a portrait studio in his hometown of Heber Springs, Arkansas and took “penny portraits” of Appalachian families from the 1920s-40s. They weren’t meant as fine art at the time, but they go for over $8000 a pop these days. This one is of Mary Stone Bullard and Her Nine Daughters. The Ozarks are no fucking joke.
onionvolcano reblogged this from rach and added:
an amazing picture, thanks for the post.
rach posted this
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