here's a short interview i found with his ex-wife

http://blogcritics.org/books/article/an-interview-with-crystal-zevon-author/

apparently carl hiaasen was the instigator for the project.

Saying something is a "hatchet job" implies it's untrue and/or a savage unfair portrayal. I'm not saying it's a hatchet job at all, I'm saying she finally got her comeuppance. She kept the guy's last name long after they were no longer together only because it served her own purposes, and then she got a book published with the total underlying goal of its content being sweet, sweet revenge. Exactly like that lowlife Ronnie Spector.

the biography thing is legit. believe it or not, that's the way he wanted it. he even gave her his journals for more fuel on the fire. he was such a character i would have been more shocked if he had wanted a fluff piece on his genius and beautiful life. also, many of the people she talked to for that book would have told her to sniff it had warren not given her the go-ahead and none of the interviewees are claiming that it was a posthumous hatchet job.

tbomb probably already knows that van morrison is a bottom feeder of the lowest order. he is a notorious curmudgeonly prick.

It's been amazing, I get back into the folks I hadn't listened to in years and illegally download and listen to all of their albums in lossless quality torrents with my very expensive terrific Sennheiser headphones and … uh … that was a typo, of course … I mean, I promptly took the car for a drive and purchased, using 100% American currency, all of their stuff from my local Best Buy … and then, I've read into their deep backgrounds. Really deep backgrounds. Wow. Almost without exception, every one of these great artists have turned out to be total creeps and absolute monsters. Never mind Michael Jackson, who goes without saying. I mean, I could go on and on about what I've since read and learned about Pat's murderer's row of Saturday creeps, but holy cow, just Warren Zevon. Lordy.

If I bothered doing the hard research, I'll bet my bottom dollar that Tbomb's precious Van Morrison spent a few years making breakfast sausage with Jeffrey Dahmer. I never was the least bit interested in Alison Krauss or her music, but I have five bucks that says if I now really did some digging, that she spent every Tuesday night at a swanky Ramada Inn in Ashtabula spray-painting fetus blood swastikas on the walls and ceilings while putting quarters in a vibrating bed and being licked as the vanilla creme in an Oreo sandwich featuring Steve McNair, Michael Vick and a black Labrador retriever named "Max."