Writing a serious book review is a lot of work and a lousy way to make money. Ill review books that are assigned to me but I almost never pitch reviews it takes too much time and most of the books I love were published a long time ago by people now dead. Tim Sultans Sunny’s Nights: Lost and Found at a Bar on the Edge of the World is an exception. The paragraphs in Sultans NYC memoir are so artfully constructed that reading them gives sensuous pleasure like rolling a great wine over your tongue. Read my review in the Los Angeles Review of Books and be converted.
IN THE SUMMER of 1988, my girlfriend found a sublet in Brooklyn Heights. Then, less than two weeks after I showed up with my suitcase, she flitted away to Europe and I was left to pay $250 a month on a Pineapple Street studio across from the Hotel St. George.