About fifteen years ago, a friend recommended author Carl Hiaasen. I've been hooked ever since I read that first book, chuckling aloud through subsequent volumes. His satires on developers in Florida are witty and almost believable. This is fiction that educates.
I was eagerly anticipating his latest book Squeeze Me, but it's not his best work. I almost think a Carl Hiaasen clone or wannabe wrote it in his style. I found the prose blunt and heavy handed, devoid of subtlety and nuance.
Hiaasen pokes fun at our current POTUS and his followers. I'm certainly not a fan of 45 and am baffled by anyone who could support a narcissistic, vindictive bully. Perhaps Hiaasen is just too angry to camouflage his feelings. After the first couple of chapters, I actually considered not finishing the book; just returning it to the library where, I know, there is a waiting list.
But being the somewhat OCD person I am, I did read to the end. I found myself chuckling aloud despite my criticisms. Perhaps I became accustomed to the revised style.
One very bright spot was the return of the character Skink. He made a brief appearance toward the end with his typical shenanigans.
On the home front, not much has changed. I continue down the alphabetical list of potential duplicates. I've arrived at "The eighth ..." I'm enjoying being able to go into the office once a week. Perhaps I'll increase it to two days.
As the weather gets cooler, all of the things I've been able to do outside will slowly come to an end: exercise class of Fridays, inviting friends here for dinner on the screened-in porch, eating outdoors at local restaurants, events on the Town Hall lawn. I'm trying to stay positive, though I've never been a winter person. Snow is okay as long as I don't have to shovel it or drive in it.
It's still October and I'm already waiting for April.
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