… to read this book. It’s true crime, a genre I normally like a lot if well written. But it’s all mixed up with the author’s outlook, personal problems, and some rather shameless self-justifying prose defending his reasons for wanting to gamble, frequent strip joints, and buy glitzy jewelry in the interests of “color” or “background” or “research.” It’s called Positively Fifth Street and I was positively certain I’d never manage to finish it if I read the author’s “background” stories about playing poker in Vegas, so I stuck to the courtroom drama and dramatized reconstructions of a famous Sin…