Sandwiched between a dilapidated Irish pub and a skin-flick cinema in midtown Manhattan, the black door with its heavy brass plate proclaims "Scanlan's Literary House." Upstairs, in a garish former banquet hall, the scene is even more bizarre: a dozen cluttered desks and typewriters, one freelance writer demanding payment, a payrolled private investigator deep in conversation with an ex-con contributing editor. At center stage, ex-Ramparts Editor and Raconteur Warren Hinckle III and former New York Times Reporter Sidney Zion celebrate their unlikely accomplishment: Seaman's Monthly is born.*
"We did everything we weren't supposed...
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