Carl Hiaasen Interview

Copperfield's Books: You're known for your bestselling adult and children's fiction, as well as your sharply observed op-eds for the Miami Herald. What was it like to switch gears and write about your own life and family?

Carl Hiaasen: It was a big change, for sure, and at first I wasn't entirely comfortable. But there was no way to write about my own ragged history with golf without writing about my father and also my own kids, who seem hell-bent on playing the damn sport.

CB: The Downhill Lie is not just a book about golf, it's a book about fathers and sons. Is there anything unique about golf that promotes parent-child bonding?

CH: Most people I know who play golf started playing with their fathers or mothers when they were young. When you're a kid, it's just a great walk on a sunny day away from all other distractions. And it's quiet time, which every parent likes. Of course, in my case I was usually cussing so it wasn't quite as quiet as my father would have hoped.

CB: What inspired your return to the game after a 32-year hiatus?

CH: Some high-school buddies suggested I give it a try. A good friend, Joe Simmens, dragged me out to play nine holes and I was pretty much hooked again. I had no great expectations, either, because I wasn't a very good player even when I was young.

CB: You observe that golfers love maxims, and it seems fair to say that they'll go to feckless lengths to improve their game. You tried out a number of products meant to improve your game, such as golf energy-enhancing pills. Did anything—pills, amulets, inspirational books—work?

CH: Nothing worked for more than a week or two. I suspect it's all magically effective, though, if you have a big fat endorsement deal from these companies. I don't.

CB: Throughout the process of writing The Downhill Lie, you've had the pleasure of golfing with a number of esteemed players: New York Daily News sports columnist Mike Lupica, former PGA golfer and Golf columnist David Feherty, and the Knopf publicity department's own Paul Bogaards. Who was your favorite partner?

CH: I never actually played with Feherty because he doesn't ever touch a golf club, unless he is forced at gunpoint. He's a riot, though, maybe the funniest guy I've ever met. Lupica is hilarious, too, and a disgustingly solid player. Bogaards is by far the most profane, much worse than even me. And loud, too. He bellows like a gutshot grizzly bear when he misses a putt, which is often.

CB: The books is done and yet you're still golfing. What's the update on your game?

CH: As soon as I finished writing the golf book, I had to start another novel for young readers. Consequently, I don't have as much time to play golf, which naturally means that my game will improve. Last time I checked, my USGA handicap was 13.3, which isn't too bad. The number is misleading, though, because I play on a pretty tough course with a high rating. A few rotten rounds and I'll be right back at 15 or 16, no problem.

CB: Writing. Golfing. Fly fishing for bonefish. You're a true Floridian renaissance man. Do you have any other hidden talents up your sleeve?

CH: Obviously you're using the word “talent” very charitably, but no, I have no hidden ones. I don't paint, cliff-dive or play the mandolin, if that's what you're asking.

CB: What's next for your writing?

CH: Once The Downhill Lie book tour is done. I'll start another depraved novel for grownups. I haven't even thought about a plot, but I suspect that Skink, the unhinged ex-governor, will return as a character. He's been away too long.