In the spring of 1977, Joan Crawford died in her co-op apartment on the East Side of Manhattan. In the summer of 1978, she had a career comeback even Crawford, who in her heyday was the Madonna and Cher of media manipulation, could never have dreamed up. Through the miracle of literary recognition, she became the dragon lady you loved to loathe. Not that the portrayal of monsters was entirely outside her range. During one of her last personal appearances before an audience at Town Hall in 1973, she said, "I love playing bitches. There's a lot of bitch in every woman. And a lot of bitch in every man too!" But now, a year after her death, we were told that the real-life bitch was far more grotesque than any movie character imaginable. The vehicle for all this delicious dirt was "Mommie Dearest," the over-wrought autobiography and publishing gold mine written by her eldest adopted daughter, Christina. medico en linea doctor en linea psicólogo en linea veterinario en linea abogado en linea abogado España abogado chile abogado costa rica psiquiatra en linea mecanico en lineaI'd met Joan Crawford in 1972 through my job at Columbia Pictures – where I worked as a story editor for several years – and we became fast friends, shared meals, played backgammon and had long, late-night phone conversations. After she died, I wanted to capture on paper what it was like to know such a person, realizing that I might never again be that close to a certified legend. So I started work on a slim, affectionate, yet warts-and-all memoir which would be published in 1979 called "Crawford: The Last Years."
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