When Kohnstamm sits down to write, he's not exactly devoted to straightforward, no-funny-business reporting.
"In order to distill the chaos of life down to a clear narrative," he writes in his opening author's note, "it was necessary to omit certain events, rearrange and compress chronology, and combine a few of the characters. I have changed most of the names and identifying details of the characters in this book to protect their privacy. Much of the dialogue and many e-mails have been re-created, but all are based on real conversations and correspondence."
Why, then, is everyone in travel journalism posting and e-mailing about Kohnstamm's Do Travel Writers Go to Hell?, a memoir officially published in the U.S. this Tuesday?
Why did the Times of London call it "the talk of the London Book Fair" last week?
Partly because Do Travel Writers Go To Hell? is the best-written, funniest book of travel literature since Phaic Tan (say that quickly).
But primarily because Kohnstamm has pulled back the curtain on the world of travel guides.
In his late 20s, Kohnstamm tells us, stuck in a soul-crushing job on Wall Street (helping lawyers find loopholes for white-collar criminals) and a crumbling relationship with his girlfriend, he accepted an offer from Lonely Planet, the hip Australian travel-guide company, to update its Brazil guide. He has also contributed to a dozen of its Latin and South American titles. (Kohnstamm holds an M.A. in Latin American studies from Stanford University.)
None of those books, however, ever took off like this one.
Kohnstamm quickly discovered that publishers like Lonely Planet don't pay their writers enough, leading them - and him - to cut corners.
In his own case, he's said, he never bothered going to Colombia, writing his part of LP's guide to it in San Francisco, thanks to help from a Colombian girlfriend.
