Sick Puppy

January 3, 2000
Florida muckraker Hiaasen once again produces a devilishly funny caper revolving around the environmental exploitation of his home state by greedy developers. When budding young ecoterrorist Twilly Spree begins a campaign of sabotage against a grotesque litterbug named Palmer Stoat, he gets much more than he bargained for. Stoat is a political fixer, involved with a bevy of shady types: Dick Artemus, ex-car salesman, now governor; Robert Clapley, a crooked land developer with an unhealthy interest in Barbie dolls; and his business expediter, Mr. Gash, a permed reptilian thug with ghastly musical tastes: "All morning he drove back and forth across the old bridge, with his favorite 911 compilation in the tape deck: Snipers in the Workplace, accompanied by an overdub of Tchaikowsky's Symphony No. 3 in D Major." After a wave of preemptive strikes centered on a garbage truck and a swarm of dung beetles, Twilly ups the ante and kidnaps both Palmer's dog and his wife, Desie, who finds Twilly a great deal more interesting than her slob of a husband. In doing so Twilly uncovers a conspiracy (well, more like business as usual) to jam a bill through the Florida legislature to develop Toad Island, a wildlife sanctuary, in a deal that will make a mint for all the politicos concerned. Chapley wants Twilly silenced and dispatches Mr. Gash. Palmer wants his wife and dog back and asks Dick Artemus to help in the rescue without derailing the bill. Who should be called upon but the good cop/bad psycho duo of Trooper Jim Tile and ex-Governor Clinton Tyree, aka Skink or the Captain, whose recurring appearances throughout Hiaasen's novels have made for hysterical farce. While there may be nothing laughable about unchecked environmental exploitation, Hiaasen has refined his knack for using this gloomy but persistent state of affairs as a prime mover for scams of all sorts. In Sick Puppy, he shows himself to be a comic writer at the peak of his powers. 200,000 first printing; first serial to Men's Journal; Literary Guild alternate; simultaneous audiobook.

September 1, 1999
Twilly Spree tailgates Palmer Stoat, intent on dumping dung beetles in his Range Rover because Stoat dared to litter. But when it turns out that Stoat is responsible for building an ugly mall on a beautiful island, crusading ecologist Spree gets really mad.

Copyright 1999 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

November 1, 1999
"Round up the usual suspects," is hardly a phrase one could ever imagine using in a review of a Carl Hiaasen novel. After all, Hiaasen's brand of apocalyptic surrealism is nothing if not distinctive. And yet, in his eighth novel, the author's idiosyncratic blending of slapstick nightmare, and moral outrage has begun to sound like shtick. And his loony good guys and bumblingly lethal bad guys have become almost interchangeable. The plot this time follows the same basic pattern as "Stormy Weather "(1995): a crazed protector of Florida's diminishing natural resources extracts bizarre retribution from those set on despoiling the land. Clinton "Skink" Tyree, the ex-governor turned hermit and avenging angel, led the charge in "Stormy Weather" and returns here in a supporting role. Taking the point is Twilly Spree, a 26-year-old millionaire who starts the surrealistic ball rolling by dumping a load of garbage in the open BMW convertible of one Palmer Stoat, political fixer and world-class litterbug. Soon, after joining forces with Skink and Stoat's disaffected wife (and rambunctious black lab), Twilly sets out to undermine Stoat's latest project: turning a pristine island into a luxury condo community. Oh, but there is so much more: a rampaging rhino, a psycho killer who plays pirated 911 tapes on his car stereo, a developer with a Barbie-doll fetish--you know, the usual suspects. The sameness of all this takes the trailblazing edge off the novel, but the black humor is still there; Hiaasen may be repeating himself, but he keeps coming up with outrageously bizarre bits (like the vain hit man who wears a padded corset of cured rattlesnake skins to hide his bulging belly). There is plenty to enjoy here, but Hiaasen clearly faces a decision: keep going down the same path, and risk becoming the Rodney Dangerfield of ecoterrorist crime fiction, or use his remarkable inventiveness to strike out in some new direction. ((Reviewed November 1, 1999)) (Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 1999, American Library Association.)