Lizzy Steiner

All Florida books are crazy; each Florida book is crazy in its own way. Article continues after advertisement Any time a book has “Florida” in its title (or even hints at the inclusion of the Sunshine State on its flap copy), I’m immediately hooked, and not just because I grew up in Sarasota. There’s just something about Florida, a certain je ne sais quoi that lends itself to engrossing crime fiction. No doubt you’ve heard the phrase “a sunny place for shady people” used to describe Florida.

Are you worried about the future of, well, just about everything, given the decidedly-not-creeping rise of AI? The way concepts like “deep learning” and “neural networks” will soon worm their way into all manner of media, from podcasting to my own dearly beloved scribbling? I know that AI is nothing new (Philip K. Dick was writing about the concept way back in the ‘60s), that the current model upon which the open-use version of ChatGPT is based is not “new” itself.

Reader, I’ve been keeping a secret from you. Perhaps my insistence on writing endlessly about the Elizabeth Holmes case at the start of each round-up has been an effort to obfuscate the truth.