Suzanne Corso on the roof of her building in Battery Park City, where she now rents a two-bedroom apartment.
Photo: Anne Wermiel
[From article]
It’s November 2005 and we’ve been living in an 11-room suite at the Ritz-Carlton on West Street for a little more than two years. And first-grader Samantha has developed quite the habit of ordering in.
Far from finding it cute, I’m appalled — I grew up on welfare in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, so the charm and appeal of the whole “Eloise at the Plaza” scenario is wasted on me as I consider that we might be raising a spoiled child.
How ironic, then, that just three years later that privileged lifestyle would come crashing down around our heads. My husband, Anthony, now 52, lost his entire fortune — more than $100 million — in the Wall Street financial crisis, leaving us wondering where our next rent check would come from.
Looking back, it was the best thing that ever happened. Hanging out with the uber-wealthy was dull and empty. If someone handed me $100 million today, I’d give it back in a heartbeat. Why? Because I’ve found the fulfillment I’ve craved since childhood.
[. . .]
Born to a teenage mom, I was raised on food stamps. It was tough growing up in Bensonhurst and, when I was 16, my grandmother bought me a secondhand Smith Corona typewriter. Since I loved writing, she told me “to write myself out of this story.”
[. . .]
I was working as a temp for Chemical Bank and was running along Exchange Place to get to the office. Some guy came over to me, patted me on the shoulder and said: “Excuse me, miss, I think you’re beautiful. Can I take you for dinner or brunch?”
[. . .]
Our first date was cocktails at the Top of the Tower in Midtown East, followed by front-row seats at “The Phantom of the Opera” and dinner at Le Cirque, with limos in between.
[. . .]
And then the financial crash of 2008 happened. Anthony would come home stressed every night. After a while, he said: “You know, we’re going to have to get rid of the helicopter.” We started to cut back — I took my clothes to consignment stores and sold one of my Birkin bags to settle one AmEx bill — but there was too much being leveraged.
[. . .]
So I knocked the novel into shape and sent it to 50 agents. They all hated it but one.
Called “Brooklyn Story,” a thinly veiled memoir of my romance with the mobster, the book sold to Simon & Schuster within a week. To my amazement, I was offered a six-figure deal. And, when the book hit the best-seller lists in 2010, they asked me to write a trilogy, culminating in my last novel, “Hello, Hollywood,” published last month.
http://nypost.com/2015/06/05/i-lost-100-million-and-ive-never-been-happier/
I lost $100M — and I’ve never been happier
By Jane Ridley
New York Post
[From article]
It’s November 2005 and we’ve been living in an 11-room suite at the Ritz-Carlton on West Street for a little more than two years. And first-grader Samantha has developed quite the habit of ordering in.
Far from finding it cute, I’m appalled — I grew up on welfare in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, so the charm and appeal of the whole “Eloise at the Plaza” scenario is wasted on me as I consider that we might be raising a spoiled child.
How ironic, then, that just three years later that privileged lifestyle would come crashing down around our heads. My husband, Anthony, now 52, lost his entire fortune — more than $100 million — in the Wall Street financial crisis, leaving us wondering where our next rent check would come from.
Looking back, it was the best thing that ever happened. Hanging out with the uber-wealthy was dull and empty. If someone handed me $100 million today, I’d give it back in a heartbeat. Why? Because I’ve found the fulfillment I’ve craved since childhood.
[. . .]
Born to a teenage mom, I was raised on food stamps. It was tough growing up in Bensonhurst and, when I was 16, my grandmother bought me a secondhand Smith Corona typewriter. Since I loved writing, she told me “to write myself out of this story.”
[. . .]
I was working as a temp for Chemical Bank and was running along Exchange Place to get to the office. Some guy came over to me, patted me on the shoulder and said: “Excuse me, miss, I think you’re beautiful. Can I take you for dinner or brunch?”
[. . .]
Our first date was cocktails at the Top of the Tower in Midtown East, followed by front-row seats at “The Phantom of the Opera” and dinner at Le Cirque, with limos in between.
[. . .]
And then the financial crash of 2008 happened. Anthony would come home stressed every night. After a while, he said: “You know, we’re going to have to get rid of the helicopter.” We started to cut back — I took my clothes to consignment stores and sold one of my Birkin bags to settle one AmEx bill — but there was too much being leveraged.
[. . .]
So I knocked the novel into shape and sent it to 50 agents. They all hated it but one.
Called “Brooklyn Story,” a thinly veiled memoir of my romance with the mobster, the book sold to Simon & Schuster within a week. To my amazement, I was offered a six-figure deal. And, when the book hit the best-seller lists in 2010, they asked me to write a trilogy, culminating in my last novel, “Hello, Hollywood,” published last month.
http://nypost.com/2015/06/05/i-lost-100-million-and-ive-never-been-happier/
I lost $100M — and I’ve never been happier
By Jane Ridley
New York Post
June 5, 2015 | 2:24am
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