100 books like Orange Crush

As someone who has lived for several decades in a resort area that relies exclusively on tourists to survive, it was no shock that I was all over Carl Hiaasen’s book like white is to rice. I loved how biting humor could shine a light on the dark side of tourism and the impact it had on the locals.

Hiaasen’s debut book is a fast-paced masterpiece that focuses on protecting the Sunshine State from greedy, corrupt characters. I found myself in the unique role of rooting for Eco-terrorists, trying to scare builders away from further developing South Florida by murdering tourists and snowbirds. 

I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum, so naturally, a fish-out-of-water coming-of-age laugh-out-loud comedy replete with a zany cast, spot-on dialog, and an unlikely hero had me from page one.

People go to Key West for different reasons…magnificent sunsets, key lime pie, to commune with the ghost of Hemingway…The unlikely hero of this cleverly plotted book went to Key West to become a gangster. I led the cheers and gave him a zillion attaboys for standing up for himself and not allowing anyone to rain on his parade. 

Maybe it’s because, as a woman who worked in a historically male-dominated industry, I always root for the underdog—be it a newbie with the chutzpah to say no to a pushy buyer or a small town fighting off a huge conglomerate. Give me a character who is a caricature of an amusement park scion, dialog dripping with sarcasm, and a zany plot that spits in the eye of corporate America.

I led the applause as S. V. Date gleefully poked fun at the greediness of big business while indicting a state government that, for a price, was more than happy to go along for the ride.

I bet it’s because I lived on a houseboat for ten years that this hilarious book grabbed me by the sea legs and never let me go. Nothing tickles my funny bone more than a group of people who have nothing in common and are thrown together on a boat out to sea but going in circles.

The antics of this ship of fools on a gambling boat who are seemingly clueless as to the ship’s nefarious real business make for a madcap tale of side-splitting laughter. 

I love being in the Everglades of South Florida. I love the crazy characters and their wild pursuits of making money. There are a lot of 70s musical references and nostalgia for the reader.

One could really believe this may be based on true events because, after all, it’s Florida. 

Fourteen-year-old Mattie Ross has got grit.

This book was recommended to me by my firefighter brother, who often reads what I call “he-man” books. The titles always have words like mutiny, bullets, gangsters, firestorm, etc. So, when he suggested I read this book, I had my reservations. (In fairness, the books he recommends consistently end up on my list of all-time favorites–I guess that’s what I get for pre-judging!) In any case, over the years, I have learned the one thing we both love in a protagonist–and now I have a name for it–is grit. I can’t recommend this book highly enough.

It always seemed unfair to me that not only do we get just one life, but we only get to live it once. So I fell in love with this novel from the moment I read its premise: Ursula Todd is born and dies and is born again… and again… and again.

I love that she doesn’t remember her previous lives except as vague intuitions that help her avoid making the same mistakes twice–and I also love that avoiding those mistakes often means she makes other (often fatal) mistakes. I found this book funny, moving, and thought-provoking, but what I love most about it is the way its down-to-earth, realistic style allowed me to fully inhabit the impossible conceit at its heart. 

Technically, Stephanie Plum isn’t an amateur sleuth because she works as a bounty hunter, but since she was never trained and tends to succeed despite her bungling and ineptitude, I consider her an amateur sleuth. Besides, when you’re sorely in need of a good laugh to release some endorphins, you can’t go wrong spending a few hours with Stephanie and her colorful cohorts. This twenty-seventh outing in the long-running series is one of the best when it comes not only to the humor, but it offers up a well-plotted story, and lots of red herrings. Plus, there’s plenty of Grandma Masur in this one. What more could you ask for?

Although published long ago, it is remarkable how easy it is to become involved in this book and be charmed by its main character, Tom.

Orphans abound in 18th and 19th-century fiction. What happens to him in an upper-class environment is inevitably unfair and hypocritical, so when he gets on the road—whether as a result of desire or force—the fun truly begins.

Tom says at the beginning that his tale has the purpose of understanding “human nature”, and after spending time with him on his adventures, from the estate where he grows up to his romp in London, we have a sense of the good nature of human nature. Tom’s sense of life infuses his life on the road, offering a character to celebrate despite his flaws.

I’m more likely to read mysteries with cats than with dogs, so when I enthuse over one of the latter, my recommendation can be trusted. I listened to this book, and it was love at first bite. It was my first earful.

The book is narrated by Chet, a failed police dog trainee. He partners with Bernie, a failing private eye, whom Chet sees as the best, bravest, smartest PI ever. Except for maybe where money is concerned or when it comes to things like Hawaiian shirts. Or Hawaiian pants. I’m with Chet on the Hawaiian pants. What was Bernie thinking? But I’ve never met a more loyal dog or well-meaning PI, and no matter what trouble they have along the way, Chet and Bernie win the day.