RIP Dominick Dunne, you suck up.

So I was reading Joan Didion in Namibia and by the time I got to Ethiopia I was curious to read some of her husband, also, I knew, a writer. Found a Dunne book at a street table in Addis Ababa and dove into it. Aw shucks. Hollywood, big names, rich food and richer parties - not really my fair. I was definitely disappointed. Then, by coincidence, I figured out that I was reading Dominick Dunne, not John Gregory (Didion) Dunne. Whew.

I like Dominick's essays but his novels are a slog through elitism and name dropping. John Gregory, also dead and eulogized in Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking, was a much better novelist. But, among the three Panic in Needle Park participants, Didion still rules my roost.

Yet, Rest in Peace, Dominick Dunne. Send reports back on what writer's heaven (or hell) is like. We're all curious to know what you think of your new circle.