Carl Hiaasen
Carl Hiaasen works as a journalist, novelist, and writer for both young adults and children. He has received the Rebecca Caudill Young Reader's Book Award and the Dilys Award, two recognitions that together reflect the breadth of his output across different readerships and genres.
Hiaasen was born on March 12, 1953, in Fort Lauderdale. He attended Plantation High School before continuing his education at Emory University and then the University of Florida. His career developed across journalism and fiction, and he has sustained work in both forms, writing in English throughout.
His occupations span several distinct categories. In addition to journalism and adult fiction, Hiaasen has worked as a children's writer and a young adult author, bringing his storytelling to readers at different stages of life. The Rebecca Caudill Young Reader's Book Award acknowledges his work in that younger-reader space, while the Dilys Award marks recognition of a different kind, one rooted in another corner of his readership.
Hiaasen remains a citizen of the United States. His career, built across journalism, adult novels, and writing for younger audiences, has drawn formal recognition in more than one area. The Dilys Award, alongside the Rebecca Caudill Young Reader's Book Award, stands as a concrete marker of the range his writing has reached.
Quotes by Carl Hiaasen
Carl Hiaasen's insights on:
There's so much hate that we direct externally that we forget we have our own psychos. But that's the role of the satirist - you have to examine your own country and say, 'look!'
I’ve always enjoyed making people laugh. But in order for me to be funny, I have to get ticked off about something.
I don’t have an e-reader. One reason is that I like to dog-ear the page when I find a particularly good sentence or passage.
I think in the old days, the nexus of weirdness ran through Southern California, and to a degree New York City. I think it’s changed so that every bizarre story in the country now has a Florida connection. I don’t know why, except it must be some inversion of magnetic poles or something.
After the first gunshot, they dove to the ground and pressed themselves flat. Then came two other shots, followed shortly by more. Nick was sure he heard one of the bullets zing off a nearby tree.
For now, there’s nothing to do but strap on an attitude and act like I’m having a ball.
Unfortunately, I don’t get to read nearly as much as I want because I’m always working on my own stuff, either the novels or newspaper columns.