This splashes midway in the wake of The Cleopatra Papers (a diary of Hollywood Follies) and Only You Dick Daring (a visit into TV's vault dizzyland) and spouts a true tale of Broadway's backstreets. Here, all roads lead to producers' pickets; names are famed, dropped, courted, beseeched, illusive, inscrutable, unmentionable and the plum hit of the season's early fate is decided over the Sardi special. Mr. Gilroy, author of Who'll Save the Plowboy? writes a personal journal during the pre-prelude (1(apple) year) to production of his second hit The Subject Was Roses. It opened with an unknown producer's backing, an unknown director's direction, an unknown scenic artist's scenery, a general manager who had never managed and three virtually unknown actors. For Mr. Gilroy, the backstreets were swampy but the critics' (quoted) evaluations were bedrock gold. Mr. Gilroy's candid comments describing his attitudes and various predicaments are subject to roses. The final treat is the play itself.