“We often think that reporters have to be super-capable in every way in order to get the best material, but sometimes if you have something like weak sight, you compensate in such a brilliant way that it’s better than if you have the best vision,” said Daniel Zalewski, Grann’s longtime editor at The New Yorker. Grann, 56, may not have the strapping physical attributes of his subjects, but his meticulously researched stories, with their spare, simmering setups that almost always deliver stunning payoffs, have made him one of the preeminent adventure and true-crime writers working today. “It’s just like me to get lost,” he said, laughing. When I found him on the sidewalk near the South Street Seaport Museum, where we were supposed to meet, he was grinning from ear to ear. So it wasn’t all that surprising when, on a sunny morning in April, Grann showed up at the wrong location for our interview.
While researching The Lost City of Z, his 2009 book about a Victorian-era adventurer who went missing in the Amazon and never returned, he briefly got lost in the Amazon himself. He doesn’t hike or camp, and he has a tendency to take the wrong train when he rides the subway. Thanks to a degenerative eye condition, the longtime New Yorker writer sees the world as though looking through a windshield during a rainstorm. David Grann aboard the South Street Seaport Museum’s tall ship, the Wavertree.ĭavid Grann is the first to say he isn’t a natural-born explorer.
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