That the Sun lasted the six-and-a-half years it did is something of a miracle. Times haven't exactly been favorable to newspapers, and a proudly right-wing paper in a liberal city — one already stuffed with newspapers — didn't seem like a winning proposition. If those weren't problems enough, the Sun had other issues. There were its soap-operaesque internal battles, chronicled with malicious glee by Gawker and the greater blogosphere. There were its occasionally wacky editorial stands, like its call for Brooklyn to secede, its undying love for the gold standard, its suggestion that political protesters be tried for treason. There were its pugnacious editors, Seth Lipsky and Ira Stoll, always spoiling for a fight and trash-talking the competition. The paper was perpetually short-staffed — its reporters regularly poached by larger papers. Yet somehow the small, harried staff of the Sun put out a consistently interesting paper, which included the best arts pages in the country, a crossword second only to the New York Times's, and lots of scoops.

Labels: journos, shameless self-promotion