Order Permanent Fatal Error here:
So, I’ve got this love/hate thing with New York City.
Put any thoughts of my politics aside as I confess this
next: I loved the city under Mayor Giuliani. Post-Rudy, it’s been one big
slippery slope into squalor.
Still, there are pockets of the city I love when I come down
from my mountain and occasionally venture northeast to NYC.
A lot of my favorite bookstores are gone now, alas.
Time’s Square is just tourist hour all the time on overdrive
these days: a blur of light and motion that could send the dead into seizures.
I do have a
few favorite places that so far endure, and they’re just off the beaten path of
that whole sorry Time’s Square scene.
Got back to the city last month for various reasons; some of
it was very wonderful. Made a point of hitting one of my favorite streets for
drinking and eating…that made the trip.
The heroine of PERMANENT FATAL ERROR is this young, aspiring
novelist named Ashley McKnight.
Confession time: She’s me maybe a few years back.
After a harrowing escape from my current playpen (the Great
Smoky Mountains), she makes her way back to the city for a pivotal meeting with
her literary agent and a kind of mercenary/author who’s modeled on this gorilla
I met at an unfortunate publisher’s party in the city a few moons ago.
The restaurant is this Cuban eatery named Havana Central—it’s got this wicked neon palm tree out front and serves up drinks with these cool swizzle sticks that feature
curvy Cuban hotties with windswept hair and hemlines.
The Cuban sandwiches are state-of-the-art and the mojitos
the most righteous mixed north of Key West. When I go to NYC, at least one meal
happens in that place ’cause I love it so.
Not far from there is an Irish pub named “Connolly’s.” It
also features prominently in PERMANENT FATAL ERROR, and not too many pages
after Havana Central raises its head. The bartender described in the book is
still pulling taps and mixing drinks there, serving them up with a smile and
that Galway accent.
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