Hiaasen a hit in Hogtown
By Boaz Dvir
Carl Hiaasen, JM 1974, knows he might want to shelve the basket case routine. He even admits it. “I shouldn’t complain,” he said.
But the bestselling novelist and syndicated columnist can’t help it. He looks at book tours the way his vivid villains view life – with droll disdain. “I’m not a big traveler,” said Hiaasen, whose 10th novel, Skinny Dip, hits the beach in July. “I hate flying. And many of the people who interview me [on tours] never even read the book.”
Some folks who approach him during book tours, on the other hand, may be reading too much into his novels.
“One reader once told me she names her tumors after my characters,” said the author of Lucky You and Basket Case.
Nevertheless, Hiaasen appeared comfortable, possibly even happy, to arrive in Gainesville in December to, among other tasks, promote his first children’s book, HOOT.
No wonder: The veteran Miami Herald writer drove. He brought his wife, Fenia, and well-behaved 4-year-old son, Quinn. The University of Florida named him (along with Tony Award-winning producer Miles C. Wilkin) a Distinguished Alumnus during the fall graduation ceremony. And the College of Journalism and Communications, which added him to its list of Alumni of Distinction in 1992, honored him with a luncheon.
Prof. Emerita Jean Chance, who retired last year, returned to see her former Reporting star student – and remind him his career could have turned out quite differently.
When he arrived at UF in 1972, after finishing two years at Emory University in Atlanta, Hiaasen – tall, slender, photogenic – fancied himself a TV reporter.
“When I started out, I thought broadcasting was a more suitable course,” he said. “I’m not sure what possessed me.”
Chance exorcised those spirits.
“I told him, ‘You’re not going in that direction. You’ll waste a lot of your skills.’ ” Chance recalled. “I was right.”
“Yeah,” he said, “she saved me and the public.”
Child’s play?
When Hiaasen wrote his first children’s book, he had no idea it would spawn an adult dilemma.
“I wrote the first one for selfish reasons – I wanted to read it to my nephews and nieces,” he said. “The success startled me. So now I have to do another one. It was fun the first time. I hope it’s fun again. That’s the danger in any job – getting the fun beat out of it.”
His contract calls for another children’s book, but beyond that, he’s unsure whether to develop a parallel career.
“It’s like asking [‘Pulp Fiction’ director Quentin] Tarantino to remake Pooh,” Hiaasen said. “But HOOT sold more than any other of my books.”
Another selling point for him to continue writing children’s books is how well his young readers received his environmental message, he said. “I wish the grown-ups were that quick and perceptive.”
Don’t worry: Regardless of what he does in the children’s book field, he plans to continue producing novels in the genre he helped create and popularize – satirical Sunshine State mysteries.
His Herald column, which he has been writing since 1985, is a different story. In recent years, he has been steadily reducing his submissions. He’s down to one a week.
His new colleagues at the Pulitzer Prize-winning newspaper help alleviate the pressure, said Hiaasen, who published two column collections, Kick Ass and Paradise Screwed.
“In the past,” he said, “I didn’t think we had the caliber of columnists. But today, there are several good young columnists.”
Will he continue to write the column? “Who knows?”
Key to his success
Hiaasen works from his home in Tavernier, in the middle of the Florida Keys. Asked about one day using a different locale – let’s say, New Jersey – as the backdrop to his colorful tales, he paused to ponder the possibilities.
“It would be interesting to see how the new location would frame the stories,” Hiaasen said. “But I think the tone, the attitude wouldn’t change.”
Before you picture Chemo the (literally) weed whacker-armed hit man mowing down enemies on the Jersey Shore or in the Carolinas’ Lowcountry, realize Hiaasen’s staying put.
“South Florida is a paradise for satire,” he said. “The novels would be tough to write in, let’s say, Cleveland.”
Yet, despite including a frozen lizard in his last adult novel, Basket Case, Hiaasen could have set it in almost any U.S. metropolitan area. His target in that case: daily newspapers.
“Newspapers are finding it harder and harder to be relevant,” Hiaasen said. “They’re killing themselves off with their shallowness. They’re dumbing themselves down to be like the Internet and TV. It’s embarrassing. Nobody except the suits will defend this. No one will tell you the Herald is as good today as it was 25 years ago.”
Skinny Dip, which targets the “attempt to save the Everglades,” also promises plenty of pointed political pontificating.
Hiaasen gave a taste of that in February to the 200 mostly UF law students and faculty who attended the 10th annual Public Interest Environmental Conference in Gainesville.
Speaking in his trademark edgy satirical tone, Hiaasen warned unchecked growth may suffocate the Sunshine State. Environmental law professionals, he said, can put the brakes on it.
For his part, Hiaasen plans to continue shining a light on developers so that they “feel the hot breath of democracy on their necks.”
He’s not murky about which side he takes.
“I always root for the alligators.”
All in the Family
One Hiaasen would have been enough to make the College of Journalism and Communications proud. But three alumni with the surname that makes politicians sweat are tearing it up in the competitive world of print journalism.
Scott Hiaasen, JM 1993, has been covering general assignment and legal issues at The Cleveland Plain Dealer for nearly two years. He worked at The Palm Beach Post for seven years. And he did a yearlong fellowship at Yale Law School.
Rob Hiaasen, TEL 1981, who works at The Baltimore Sun, is spending a year as a fellow at Stanford University.
Then there’s what’s his name, umm, Carl Hiaasen of the Miami Herald. He’s their father and brother, respectively.
“They were alike in the sense that they were well-read and very newspaper savvy,” recalled Prof. Emerita Jean Chance, who taught Carl and Scott. “They grew up reading good newspapers like the Miami Herald and The Palm Beach Post. They had good noses for news.”
Scott tried to play down his family connections, Chance said. “He wanted to be Scott on his own.”
But the Hiaasen name helped him in some ways, Scott said. “It got more people to call me back.”
Ironically, it might keep him from one day working in the “best news town” – Miami, he said. “It would be tricky to carry that name there. People might hang up on me.
“People who don’t like my father. It might be awkward – who knows?”
Top: John Sutherland, Dean Terry Hynes, Jon Roosenraad, Quinn Hiaasen, Carl Hiaasen, Fenia Hiaasen, Nath Doughtie, Jean Chance, William McKeen, Nicole Cisneros, Bronia Lowenstein, Ralph Lowenstein, Dave Ostroff, and Rebecca Hoover. (Photo by Boaz Dvir)
