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.
God damn, VBS. I really can’t watch much else on the web for a few days after I see their work—it’s just so good and so thorough and so beautiful. This is part 3 of a three part documentary on a home for aging sex workers in Mexico City, and it is sad and arresting. All three parts are here, the corresponding article here. Sorry to get serious, but this really affected me when I watched it and I wanted to pass that along.
