Farewell, Dorothy Parker (37 page)

That is precisely how this book came about. One day, as I was noting that Jane Austen, whom I love, had dozens of novels written in her honor, it occurred to me that someone should do the same for the one writer I had always worshipped and adored with gushing abandon: Dorothy Parker.

Then, in a moment of giddy excitement I thought,
Me!
I’ll
write it!

Almost immediately my skittish ego hit the brakes. How could I possibly tackle such a thing? Dorothy Parker had one of the wittiest and most beguiling voices of the twentieth century. Who did I think I was, anyway?

But the truth is, I wanted so badly to read a book in which the ghost of Dorothy Parker came back to life that it trumped my insecurity. So I took Salinger’s advice and drove forward to write the thing myself.

Of course, that process involved rereading all of her poems
and stories. But it was her other writing—the essays, reviews, and letters—that unlocked for me the distinct voice of this unique and audacious woman.

And now here it is, presented with equal doses of pride and humility. I hope that it will please those who, like me, have been Dorothy Parker fans for a long time, as well as anyone just discovering the irreverent wit.

The only apologies I offer are for the liberties I took with the facts of Dorothy Parker’s life for the sake of my fiction. Parker scholars may notice certain discrepancies, some as small as her preferred drink (scotch, not gin), and others as large as changing the name of the proprietor of the Algonquin Hotel during the Round Table years (Frank Case, not Percy Coates). Most of the broader facts, like losing her mother at a young age and her passionate commitment to justice and civil rights, are true.

Still, this novel should in no way be considered a factual account of Dorothy Parker’s life, and anyone who wishes to know more about this important writer should read one of the many fine biographies written about her. In particular, I recommend
Dorothy Parker: What Fresh Hell Is This?
by Marion Meade. Related readings, some of which are sadly no longer in print, include
The
Algonquin Wits
by Robert E. Drennan;
Dorothy Parker: In Her Own Words
, edited by Barry Day;
George S. Kaufman: An Intimate Portrait
by Howard Teichmann;
Smart Aleck: The Wit, World, and Life of Alexander Woollcott
by Howard Teichmann;
The Vicious Circle
by Margaret Case Harriman;
Wit’s End
by James R. Gaines;
You Might as Well Live
by John Keats; and
A Journey into Dorothy Parker’s New
York
by Kevin C. Fitzpatrick.

Of course, my highest recommendation is to read Dorothy Parker herself. You’ll find a wonderful collection of her stories, poems, reviews, essays, and letters in
The Portable Dorothy Parker,
edited by
Marion Meade. I think you’ll agree that she was not only a master of acerbic barbs but a keen observer of the human heart and a writer of uncommon gifts.

________

*
Paraphrased from J. D. Salinger; “Seymour; An Introduction,”
The New Yorker
, June 6, 1959.

*
Radio interview with Studs Terkel, 1959.

Acknowledgments

I was knee-deep in another project when I got the idea for this book, but I was too excited to put it on the back burner. And so I hurried into Manhattan for some face time with my agents to get their opinion. Their reaction was even better than I had hoped, and I began writing
Farewell, Dorothy Parker
that very day. So for their wild enthusiasm and nonstop encouragement, huge thanks to Andrea Cirillo and Annelise Robey, as well as to Peggy Gordijn, Mike McCormack, and the rest of the wonderful folks at the Jane Rotrosen Agency. A special shout-out to Joel Gotler, too.

To my erstwhile editor, Rachel Kahan, who not only embraced the book but provided a brightness that lit the path, a deep and humble bow of gratitude. You knew exactly what this story needed.

A very special thanks to every member of the extraordinary team at Putnam/Berkley, including Katie Grinch, Lydia Hirt, Caitlin Mulrooney-Lyski, Kate Stark, Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, Meaghan Wagner, Alexis Welby, and, of course, Ivan Held.

Thanks, too, to my talented and generous beta readers, Myfanwy Collins and Saralee Rosenberg, and to my fellow traveler and lunch mate, Susan Henderson. Your guidance and friendship are everything. Additional thanks to all the supportive lit pals who were always there with helpful advice and encouragement, including Mary Akers, Don Capone, Ron Currie, Katrina Denza, Susan DiPlacido, Pamela Erens, Kathy Fish, Kelly Flanigan, Carol Hoenig, Debbi Honorof,
Andrew Gross, Brenda Janowitz, Elinor Lipman, Pam Mosher, Michael Palmer, Ellen Parker, Patricia Parkinson, Jordan Rosenfeld, Robin Slick, Maryanne Stahl, and Alix Strauss. And a heartfelt salute to the late Louis Catron.

I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Tony Iovino, who gave so generously of his time and expertise to help me understand the intricacies of family law in New York State. And to the doctors, movie critics, Algonquin staff, and other professionals who patiently answered my questions—including Gary J. Budge, Catherine Custalow, Stuart Kanterman, Rik Kellerman, Patricia Latzman, Doomy Midouin, and Max Weiss—a grateful hug as well as an apology for any creative license I took with your accurate and useful information.

Like most authors, I love book club readers, and I am happy to acknowledge the following individuals here: Anita Beall, Ericka, Pamela, Suzanne O’Neil, Moira McGarry, C. Zuniga, Susan Stokes Erichsen, Rozanne Notaristefano, Valerie Nielsen, Carolyn Everitt, Roberta Teer, Beth Gilman, Chav Landau, Melissa Marasciullo, Jessica Brakhage, Tracee Jones, and Kimberly Fisher.

And finally, love and hugs to the four incredible people who make me worry the most and laugh the hardest: Max, Ethan, Emma, and, of course, Mike.