A riotous new novel by the author of War Memorials, a "gritty and tender and crazily funny book" (Bret Lott)
Everything that happens is linked, as any meteorologist can tell you. Otherwise, there could be no basis for prediction. But that doesn't mean predictions come easy. Hail can still fall from a clear blue sky. Every weatherman knows what it's like to be wrong.
Taylor Wakefield had two defining moments as a child: he very publicly lost a national spelling-bee championship after he stumbled on the word "responsibility," and on the steamy back roads of Alabama, he watched his no-good cousin Billy kill a man.
His high-profile failure at the spelling bee brings him a short-lived career as "The Sugar-Puffs Kid" on a call-in radio show, as well as a lifelong crush on the Seminole girl who beat him. Years later, Billy, now a God-fearing district attorney, accuses an innocent man of the murder Taylor witnessed. Outraged, Taylor uses his position as an unqualified weatherman for a fly-by-night broadcasting company to break his silence. Each night on television, he attempts to right a wrong by dropping hints about his cousin's guilt, ultimately proving that one Alabama town does indeed need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.
Winner of the S. Mariella Gable Prize
Responsibility, free will, and fate loom large in Clint McCown's hilarious, suspenseful new novel.
Clint McCown writes like people speak, never relying on colloquialisms or clichés to get across a sense of personality and place, getting the particulars of his characters down with subtle variations, an easy turn of a memorable phrase, and a clear connection between how people communicate with others, with the world, and within themselves.
There's the casual cruelty--some say brute honesty--with which some people speak with their familiars, family or not. He creates scenes filled with black humor and lines so laugh out-loud hilarious they beg to be shared immediately with others--who surely will be wondering why you're bursting into laughter on the train--but one must resist, if only to allow other readers to come across them fresh, and explosions of vivid yet never gratuitous violence, or at least the ever-tangible threat of it.
He also never lets go of the slight sense of the surreal and ridiculous, like a character being “saved,” in the religious sense, at a drive-in, and how you can hear the stunned tone in the voice of the person hearing this news. And out of pain and ruin, he writes memorable lines like “The body would fall away, but the mind would stay clear, a mute prisoner in am ever-diminishing jailhouse,” about as perfect an evocation of the ravages of physical illness as there can be.
In his low-key way, there's also an unmistakable belief in the importance of how people treat each other; Clint's characters surprise with kindness and steadfastness, or disappoint with pettiness, corruption and arrogance. In any event, they are believable and memorable, and make spending any time with them, no matter their faults or foibles, a genuine, well-rounded pleasure. In “The Weatherman,” he writes about how the phases of the moon are “form without substance.” His work is anything but.
Novels are like car rides. There are some that go too slow and you cannot wait to get to the destination. There are some that move too fast, and you feel as if you did not see everything that was meant to be seen. The perfect ones move a little over the speed limit, just fast enough to feel like you are moving along but not too fast where you feel like you are missing something. "The Weatherman" felt as if it were moving too fast. Like about 90 miles and hour in a 55 mph zone. Sure I enjoyed the ride; it was fun and exciting, well written, funny, and clever, but I also feel like some of the landmarks that make this novel really interesting come and go too quickly, almost as if I was turning my head to watch them pass. Some interesting concepts and ideas seem to come and go and there is not enough really dedicated to them. Like the main character, Taylor Wakefield's childhood celebrity or really the reasoning behind his weather broadcasts. Sure they are mentioned, and McCown's stories are tight and well explained, but it feels like instead of rushing toward the destination so quickly, this could have used a little more sightseeing. Even still, "The Weatherman" is enjoyable and fun to read, just like any high speed car ride.
The author came and talked to us about writing this book in my essays class. He said he rewrote this book about 15 times and there might only be a few sentences from the original novel in the final. His book is a fun mystery about the author solving a murder.
Clint McCown is such a delightful writer. He is gifted with timing, connection, but also distance. I was constantly surprised by his choice of plot device, turn of phrase, and philosophical bent. I gave this four stars instead of five because I wanted more in the middle. The beginning is beautifully weird, the end is satisfyingly odd, but there needed to be more. There's a sense of a more subtle, pensive Hiassen to this. These marvelous people needed more time on stage.
I loved this book. Nearing the end I stayed awake until after midnight just to finish it (and you have no idea what that takes). I find it difficult to summarise the plot and do it full justice. For once, I'm going to resort to the blurb. Amid the stormy days of Birmingham, Alabama in 1963, 11 year old Taylor Wakefield becomes the sole witness to a murder; fear and family loyalties render him silent. 15 years later, working as a substitute weatherman for a fly-by-night broadcaster, Taylor finally launches his spiritual comeback. He knows nothing about the weather - other than its unpredictability - but his on-air revelations and surprising forecasts unleash a whirlwind that threatens to shake the entire state to its core. Actually, I'm not sure this does justice to it either. This book is funny, it's wry, it's ultimately suspenseful, and the description of the broadcasting network is hilarious. Don't take my word for it... --
Training montages are becoming an unwelcome cliché. As a reader, I am far more impressed by an author who can write a character struggling through his or her first day at a new job, one for which they haven't got the proper training, and cannot hope to excel. That is part of what Clint McCown does here, when his protagonist starts working at a radio/television outlet with no prior experience.
Of course, it helps that the stakes are low for his coworkers, who practically hold the place together everyday with their own spit.
Look for the surprise return of Wakefield's mother, and the even more surprising story of what she had been up to in her absence.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Many profound quotes and a down-to-earth protagonist. Good combination!
This story takes us through the life of a young man who witnesses a murder committed by a cousin. The novel goes into some touchy subjects like race and politics, but I was hooked from beginning to end. I also appreciated the author's subtle use of humor. Often sadistic, but undeniably present.