When reading Karina Longworth’s Howard Hughes book, I came away wanting to learn more about Jane Russell. She seemed like a fish-out-of-water person from the era: a sexpot who rejected the label, a right-wing Christian who stuck to her views, a living contradiction who leaned into her personality. Researching when I was done, I was surprised to find that the only book on Russell was her autobiography, published in the 1980s. Months later, I was at the library and remembered, at last, to pick it […]