Book 11

"Tourist Season" by Carl Hiaasen

My third Hiaasen novel is actually his first. Weird, huh? It's about a series of murders in Florida that are the work of Los Noches De Deciembre (The Nights of December), a terrorist group dedicated to returning Florida to it's native state (of mosquitos and swamps). There's a great deal more to the story, but that's basically it. Hiaasen's style is slick and energetic and his wit is powder-dry.[1] Think of him as a more gregarious Elmore Leonard. Or a more accesible, happier James Ellroy. Or just think of him as Carl Hiaasen and enjoy the book.

The characters are all flawed, every single one of them. Some, of course, are more flawed than others, and a great many of them are fuck-ups in the extreme, but they all work well withing the story. There's plenty of action - both verbal and physical - and my Dad would be happy, cause the 'hero' uses a Browning 9mm. Hiaasen does occasional need to take a step back from beating us over the head with his ecological views, but for the most part the book thunders along smoothly.

Three and a half bat-shit ex-reporters.

[1] I think I just paraphrased a liner-note, but what the hell.