Word: sheilah
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...writer can be worse than death-public and critical neglect. In 1937 Fitzgerald packed himself, like "a cracked plate," off to Hollywood, not to recoup his life but to repay his $40,000 debts. There, across two dinner tables in a crowded restaurant he saw handsome Hollywood Columnist Sheilah Graham and said, "I like you." There was to be another act for Fitzgerald, after...
...story of this love affair together with the tale of her rise from a London slum background that Sheilah Graham tells in Beloved Infidel, or rather, does not tell. For reasons best known to the inscrutable West Coast, Gossipist Graham has chosen to spill the news of her life to Fellow Journalist (Coronet) Gerold Frank, whose ghost-written accounts of lost and love-shorn ladies (Lillian Roth's I'll Cry Tomorrow, Diana Barrymore's Too Much, Too Soon) have made him a leading sob brother. He achieves a confidential tone that rarely confides, a vulgarity that...
Less U, More H. Co-Author Frank's tear-shot camera eye pans in on Sheilah Graham when she was still Lily Sheil, a grimy Cockney moppet of six being carted away to the East London Home for Orphans. The eight orphanage years were Dickensian. Eventually Lily found a job as a skivy (housemaid) but soon chucked it. She had a chance to demonstrate a U-shaped toothbrush ("It fits the inside of your teeth") and her pearly performance caught the eye of U-born Major John Graham Gillam, D.S.O. It was a case of an 18-year...
Graham was a shade too fatherly, Sheilah implies, to be fully satisfactory as a mate, but he did replace the U-brush with some H's and cured her of saying "Oo-er! Wot an 'at!" After that it was onward and upward-showgirl with C. B. Cochran and Noel Coward, playgirl with palace guardsmen and aristocrats. Trouble was that along with a pseudonym, the ex-Lily had concocted a sort of pseudo-family tree and she never knew when someone was going to cry, "Timber!" In 1933, she decided the U.S. was the best place...
...bite Gingrich's hand during the feeding; Fitzgerald goading a friend into punching him, and upon being lightly tapped mumbling bitterly to himself, "That big, hulking brute-and me dying of tuberculosis"; Fitzgerald entangled in his pajamas waking in terror at the thought that his arms are paralyzed. Sheilah could not save him from himself and she sometimes sank to a no more pretty fishwifery of her own: "I didn't pull myself out of the gutter to waste my life on a drunk like you!" The drunk pulled himself out of the gutter in the last year...