Letter from a Reader 4.7.26
New York Times Book Review leads: The good, the bad, and the ugly #1
My mentor Don Murray1 made his journalism students rewrite leads in the New York Times, and apparently I’ve never gotten over it. Whenever I read a book review in the Times, I’m still a 19-year-old sophomore in a sweatshirt emblazoned with an unnaturally blue-and-white UNH Wildcat, looking for ways to improve the first line.
The results of this effort have grown ever more alarming since Gilbert Cruz replaced Pamela Paul as the overlord of all New York Times book coverage in 2022. As I wrote in my 4.4.26 Letter, Times book critics often appear startlingly unaware of a principle well understood by deranged sports fans who scream at teams after opening-day losses: “You can’t win them all if you don’t win the first!” You have to nail the first line or two of a review if you want people to hear what you have to say about a book.
Some Times critics nail it consistently. Others do it occasionally, and a third group fails so often or badly, it’s ugly. Book-section staff members seem increasingly reluctant to do an essential task of a good editor: to save writers from themselves. This lapse can mislead both readers and less experienced critics about what a “good” review is.
Worse, media critics seldom fault the missteps of NYTBR editors as they do those of other sections of the Times. Let opinion columnists like Maureen Dowd or Tom Friedman put a wrong foot down, and shrieks erupt on social media. Let Dwight Garner or Alexandra Jacobs do it in the book section and the world shrugs.
This indifference may relate to cultural trends, such as the decline in reading for pleasure. But books deserve better than they’re getting from the Times. In an effort bring a bit of equal justice to them, I’m starting today a new occasional feature of these Letters called New York Times Book Review Leads: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. It will focus on winners and sinners among opening lines in the Times book coverage, quoting a few and offering a brief, partial explanation of why they work or don’t in each installment.
My comments reflect my work for major American media—I’ve been the staff book critic for Glamour and a large U.S. newspaper—not at alt weeklies or scholarly journals, where other standards apply. In my experience the best openers for stories tell you something you don’t know or something you do know—or think you do—in a fresh way. I prefer book reviews that show moral courage and originality of thought and that have a conversational tone and, if appropriate for the subject, wit and flair.
Please jump in if you disagree with the comments below. In this series “The Good” openers typically will appear above the paywall and most of “The Bad” or “The Ugly” below it. Today only “The Ugly” and one of “The Bad” appear below it.
The Good
“Jeff Bezos did not create the world’s biggest bookstore out of a deep love of literature.”
David Streitfeld, Pulitzer Prize-winning Times technology reporter, in “The Life-Changing Power of a Book Review Before Algorithms,” March 24, 2026.
Why it’s good: This opener has a high virtue underrated in U.S. book coverage: It gets straight to the point without waffling or throat-clearing. It appears on a story about how Washington Post reviews changed the lives of two novelists in ways that can’t happen now that Jeff Bezos has killed its Book World. In a sense, it’s a eulogy.
Streitfeld’s lead for it is clear and accurate with a bit of snap at the end to move you forward. It follows one famous Elements of Style rule, “Omit needless words,” while showing you how to break another (“Put statements in positive form”) successfully. And it speaks with authority. Streitfeld has covered Amazon for decades and knows his subject well enough that he doesn’t need to write: “According to associates of the founder of Amazon, Jeff Bezos did not create the world’s biggest bookstore out of a deep love of literature.” His lead says: “I know what I’m talking about.”
“In hindsight, it was obvious Edward VIII wouldn’t be king for long when he and Wallis wore shorts at Balmoral.”
Eva Wolchover, freelance critic and co-host of the podcast, “Windsors & Losers,” in a review of Fashioning the Crown, Feb. 26, 2026, that goes on to note: “This flagrant disregard for royal decorum was recorded by a fellow guest.”
Why it’s good: It’s vivid and surprising. It tells you something that, no matter how much you’ve read about the British royals, you probably didn’t know. Like Streitfeld’s lead, it doesn’t run out of steam at the end. And it conveys a similar authority. Wolchover knows her subject well enough to write, “In hindsight, it was obvious” instead of “Some people thought it was obvious.”
The Bad
“To hear Ann Napolitano talk—at a pre-publication lunch, at an event to celebrate the relaunch of Dial Press, on the ‘Today’ show—is to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she did not write her third novel, ‘Dear Edward,’ with any victory lap in mind. It’s not that she’s a fish out of water behind a podium or on a white couch in a television studio; in fact, Napolitano commands attention in a quietly mesmerizing way, like the veteran teacher she is. She’s a writer’s writer, which is like being a long-distance runner.”
Elisabeth Egan, a writer and editor for the New York Times Book Review, in “The Third Time’s the Charm,” Feb. 6, 2020
Why it’s bad: The clunky writing begins with a cliché “beyond a shadow of a doubt.” Then the story crams four more tired phrases into its hype for the “mesmerizing” Napolitano: “victory lap,” “fish out of water,” “commands attention,” and “writer’s writer.” Egan also seems to misunderstand the meaning of “a writer’s writer,” which refers to how other writers see you, not how long you’ve been around. And how could she know every thought Napolitano had while writing her book?