evans. maxine

Bonnie Ehrlich was tired of Dior suits and diamond necklaces and being told by her press agent, “You’re just not newsworthy.” She had made headlines once before when she sued world famous filmmaker Hercules Fokis for running her over in a drive-in brothel. And she would, at any cost, make headlines again. She would, at any cost, make headlines again. She would write a book.

“I’ll write about the broads I used to know in Hollywood,” she explained to her husband Manny.

“No good,” he said. “Polly Adler done that bit years ago.”

“Not those broads, stupid. I mean actresses I knew when they were starting out. The ones who made it big. Of it’s dirty enough it can’t miss.”

The Broadbelters is the story of what happened when Bonnie Ehrlich signed a contract with Dave Shmeer, publisher of bestsellers, and made use of his formula: Chapter = 2 Bedroom Scenes + Narrative. It’s a very funny story. In fact The Broadbelters is probably the funniest book since Candy, or Candide, or Candle in the Night, or Valley of the Dolls, or Up the Down Staircase, or Jean Christophe, or Auntie Mame.