Donald Heiney (MacDonald Harris was a pseudonym) was born in 1921. After serving in the Merchant Marine and the Navy, he joined the faculty of University of California, Irvine, where he taught writers including Michael Chabon. He died in 1993.
It's leisurely, it's subtle and reflective, it's funny, it's accurate and fascinating about the technical business of flying balloons and meteorology and the mysteries of early radio; there's a love story that is tender, sexy and ridiculous all at once, there are characters who are firmly conceived and rounded and surprising, there's an immaculate and jazz-like sense of rhythm and timing; but best of all there's that sensation that comes so rarely, but is as welcome as a cool breeze on a hot day when it does - the sensation that here is a subtle, witty and intelligent mind that really knows how to tell a story. Actually, it's almost impossible to read any of Harris's first pages without helplessly turning to the next, and the next. I'm astonished that he's not far better known. ----Michael Chabon, printed in The Guardian