There was a time when no one burned hotter than Eve Babitz. Possessing skin that
radiated "its own kind of moral laws," spectacular teeth, and a figure that was
the stuff of legend, she seduced seemingly everyone who was anyone in Los
Angeles for a long stretch of the 1960s and '70s. But there was one man who
proved elusive, and so Babitz did what she did best, she wrote him a book. She
also pulled off a remarkable sleight of hand: Slow Days, Fast Company far
exceeds its mash-note premise. It is a full-fledged and full-bodied evocation of
a bygone Southern California. In ten sun-baked,