And check out my new address--and the new stationery. I met a fella who fit all my requirements. He’s older (think yuck), but I’ve talked him into separate bedrooms and ya know, you don’t have to buy the bull to get ... well, you get the idea.
He’s Jewish ... and is he ever Broadway. He’s a super press agent, and he tells me if I stop popping those dolls and start writing about them, he can guarantee me a best seller.
Drop me a line one of these, days, kiddo.
Your old pal,
Jackie
Mrs. Nicholas Carraway
Paris, France
July 21, 1953
Dear Jackie,
Wondering what happened to me, girl? I want to thank you for the friendship you extended to a dumb kid from the Midwest, and for all your sisterly advice, although I’m afraid I didn’t end up taking much of it. Forgive me? But it all worked out for the best.
Nick and I were married last Friday. Blossom Dearie, the American singer, was my maid of honor. Albert Camus, the French writer, was Nick’s best man. He had wanted his friend Jake, but Jake couldn’t leave his work--he’s in the middle of a big project with Edward R. Murrow, a television documentary about Senator McCarthy. Not only that, he’s become close friends with my old mentor, Jerry Wexler, and he’s going to start producing some jazz artists for Atlantic Records. And as he wrote to Nick, “Right now, the only thing that would get me out of New York with a crowbar would be a trip to New Orleans or Kansas City or Memphis.”
I’m studying with Miss Dearie, and singing nights in a little cabaret. I even got to be a backup singer on a record Miss Dearie made--“Lullabye of Birdland” in French!
Nick works on his novel every day. I’m more or less supporting us until he gets his advance from M. Girodias, although M. Renoir has paid him to option the movie rights for Gatsby le Magnifique. But I don’t mind. It’s so exciting to see how he glows with an inner fire after a day of writing.
And ... married life is wonderful. We’ve actually been ... you know, without benefit of clergy, since I arrived in Paris. You can do that over here.
The only thing ... just between us girls ... I mean, I don’t have much to compare with, except whatsisname ... but down there, he’s-you know, a little bit ... smallish? But that doesn’t really matter, does it?
Love, Ronnie
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
If this section were to be done right, it would run to book length all by itself. There are so many people, so many sources, that help push a project like this along.
One of the first to nudge this book from the talking stage to the doing something about it stage was Jim Idema, a great newspaperman and a great friend. I mentioned the idea to him over lunch one day, and he wouldn’t let it alone. “When are you going to write that story about Nick Carraway and Jake Barnes?” Jim lived long enough to read the first draft, and he loved it.
Agent and former publisher Don Lamm liked what he saw. He provided early encouragement, and great help and advice every step of the way.
Sue Manocha, Claudia Jessup, India and Alex Richards, Ted Brooks, and Jenny Hickey copy edited and proofread the manuscript. Peter Jones gave advice and guidance.
We had the incredible good fortune to find the exact right editor in Lilly Golden, who understood and supported everything we were trying to do.
Thanks to the art department at Skyhorse for coming up with a great design and listening to our suggestions.
And a special thanks to two guys named Scott and Ernest, even though they don’t exist.
Nick and Jake Page 14