By Dave Barry
Dave Barry is an American columnist who, I have to say, can be very, very funny. Some Australian papers carry his columns from time to time, you might have seen them around. He is also a mate of Carl Hiaasen, a fellow journalist-turned-novelist. This book is humorous and light, except for a few acts of extreme violence, but not quite as good as the Hiaasen’s I have read to date, nor as good as Janet Evanovich. It is better than R is for Ricochet, though.
The plot involves several parties, whose paths intertwine on board a small cruise ship that sails offshore every night so that everyone can gamble relatively legally. The ship is also being used to deliver drugs. This particular night there is a big storm, and some bad guys have a plan and quite a lot of guns. There is also a band, a barmaid and two retirees thrown into the mix. Barry also pokes some well-deserved fun at the inanity of news coverage, where, desperate to drum up a story about the storm, news reporters keep racing to the scene of apparent tragedies only to get killed themselves – thus, they create their own news.
If you could only read one more book before you died, this wouldn’t be it. (My personal choice would be Ulysses, because I know it would take me a really, really long time to finish). More the kind of book you’d read on a plane flight, except that you’d probably be more entertained by Carl Hiaasen.
Rating: 5 out of 10
It’s okay - if you never get around to reading it, it won't be the end of the world.
Dave Barry is an American columnist who, I have to say, can be very, very funny. Some Australian papers carry his columns from time to time, you might have seen them around. He is also a mate of Carl Hiaasen, a fellow journalist-turned-novelist. This book is humorous and light, except for a few acts of extreme violence, but not quite as good as the Hiaasen’s I have read to date, nor as good as Janet Evanovich. It is better than R is for Ricochet, though.
The plot involves several parties, whose paths intertwine on board a small cruise ship that sails offshore every night so that everyone can gamble relatively legally. The ship is also being used to deliver drugs. This particular night there is a big storm, and some bad guys have a plan and quite a lot of guns. There is also a band, a barmaid and two retirees thrown into the mix. Barry also pokes some well-deserved fun at the inanity of news coverage, where, desperate to drum up a story about the storm, news reporters keep racing to the scene of apparent tragedies only to get killed themselves – thus, they create their own news.
If you could only read one more book before you died, this wouldn’t be it. (My personal choice would be Ulysses, because I know it would take me a really, really long time to finish). More the kind of book you’d read on a plane flight, except that you’d probably be more entertained by Carl Hiaasen.
Rating: 5 out of 10
It’s okay - if you never get around to reading it, it won't be the end of the world.
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