"hiaasen article" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hiaasen Carl)

Although he still uses his books to do what he originally loved about journalism - "righting wrongs and pointing out the crap" - he has given increasing attention to the demands of fiction. Andrew Billen in the Evening Standard wrote in 2002: "When it comes to women, his novels remain hormonally challenged." But in Skinny Dip , he has created a female character who is neither idealised nor demonised, but believably fallible, albeit a persona who, like all of Hiaasen's female characters, provides salvation to the hapless male character.

In the early 90s, Hiaasen and Connie separated and he moved down to the Keys on his own. In the evenings, he would go to a local restaurant for a bite and a leisurely read. The manager of the restaurant, Fenia Clizer, noticed him and "thought this was peculiar behaviour, seeing as drinking and partying are the main recreations around here", says Hiaasen. They recently celebrated their fifth wedding anniversary. Anecdotes about their four-year-old son, Quinn ("That was the one name I could think of that didn't remind me of someone who I didn't like, and, of course, he is The Mighty Quinn"), and 13-year-old stepson Ryan are related with the pride of the second-time-around father. Both boys, he adds, are big classic rock fans; Quinn knows all the lyrics to "Stairway to Heaven".

As well as journalism, 60s and 70s rock music looms large in Hiaasen's novels. Good characters like it and bad or dumb ones get the lyrics wrong. In his study, an old poster of the Rolling Stones is lovingly framed; a shiny acoustic guitar rests on the floor. "Playing guitar is the one thing Carl can't do well," says Barry with a laugh. "I'm in a band with Amy Tan and Stephen King [The Rock Bottom Remainders] and Carl plays with us occasionally. I remember one time we were playing and Carl brought his guitar teacher along and the two of them were at the back and you could hear in every song the teacher yelling, 'C, Carl! Now A!'"

Whenever he feels blocked, he "bangs the hell out of the guitar" until he feels right again. The musician Warren Zevon, who died last year of lung cancer, was a particularly close friend, and the two bonded over a shared "dark, visceral kind of humour". Zevon was one of the few people who was allowed to read Hiaasen's novels in progress. Hiaasen sent him the manuscript of Skinny Dip chapter by chapter, and it was Zevon who suggested the title. The last conversation Hiaasen had with him was on a Friday when Zevon requested the final chapters. But Hiaasen wanted still to tweak them so he hesitated before posting them. Zevon died on the Sunday. The chapters arrived on Monday. "As a fellow perfectionist," Hiaasen says, "Warren would have understood."

Some have suggested that, after a lifetime of being angry, maturity and a second marriage have mellowed him. He is, he says, "probably more of a novelist than a journalist these days", if only because he spends much more time on the former.

"I think he's less interested in shocking people," says Barry. "I don't want to say his humour has softened but he's become more patient in his novels about letting you find the characters and the humour." This has given his novels a warmer glow than the tangy sharpness of his earlier work. Skinny Dip has been greeted in the US with adulatory reviews. Writing in the New York Times, critic Janet Maslin described it as "a screwball delight so full of bright, deft, beautifully honed humour that it places Mr Hiaasen in the company of Preston Sturges, Woody Allen and SJ Perelman".

He rarely leaves the island these days - the thought of traffic is a sufficient deterrent - making only the rare exception for his sons and the occasional rock concert. Instead, he spends his days in his white house with his young family, taking the boat out on the Bay. From his doorstep he can see more and more housing developments approaching. When the children are at school, he holes up in his office, which faces, not the ocean, but the main road with the passing traffic that gets louder every day: if it looked out on the water, he explains, he'd never do any work, he'd spend all day staring at the herons and the seacows.

But Hiaasen insists he is as angry as he ever was. He is angry about the war, angry about political failures, angry about the upcoming election and, most of all, as ever, angry about the destruction of Florida. He still sees it as his "responsibility" to tell people about this stuff. "I do believe the system will out the bastards." But, he adds, in a stern voice that comes wrapped inside a calm smile, "you gotta stay mad. As frightening as this may sound, what you see in the books is the way I see the world. And so far I haven't seen anything, either in Florida or elsewhere, to dissuade me from it."

Carl Andrew Hiaasen
Born: March 12 1953, Florida.
Education: 1970-72 Emory University; '72-74 University of Florida.
Married: 1970 Connie Lyford, '96 divorced (one son); '99 Fenia Clizer, (one son, one stepson).
Career: 1974-76 Reporter for Cocoa Today, Florida; '76-79 reporter, Miami Herald; '79-85 investigative reporter, Miami Herald; '85- weekly columnist, Miami Herald.

Some books: 1986 Tourist Season; '87 Double Whammy; '89 Skin Tight; '91 Native Tongue; '93 Strip Tease, Stormy Weather; '97 Lucky You; '98 Team Rodent: How Disney Devours the World; 2000 Sick Puppy; '02 Basket Case, Hoot; '04 Skinny Dip.

With William Montalbano: 1981 Trap Line, Powder Burn; '86 A Death in China.

Some awards: 2003 Newbery Award; '03 Damon Runyon Award for services to journalism.