So many glowing reviews posted here, but I didn't feel the magic. This is one of the dullest novels I've ever read. With the characters' lifestyles and location, you'd think their lives would be interesting. But a "day in the life" as the approach goes here isn't at all gripping.
First off, there's nothing sexy or even particularly romantic going on, let alone guys just having fun. But I do recall one character who fancies himself in love dealing with love in terms of "lust" which is hardly the same thing. However, the character (an overaged boytoy who is as tired of his partner in life as his partner is of him) seems too immature and naive to be believed, and unfortunately hasn't remained sufficiently physically attractive to please his partner.
Two other characters looking for love are a local tv personality and a film critic, and we spend too much time on their jobs with them. As a reader, you end up reading reviews of imaginary as well as RL films, and with the on-air personality who profiles local happenings, and not being familiar with Miami, I can't speak to the locales or organizations he gives mention of, yet a familiarity with Miami shouldn't be a prerogative for reading the novel.
I'm writing the review and realizing I have totally forgotten all the details surrounding the fourth lead, but I think there was one. However, all the lead characters take turns in narration, with each chapter devoted to telling a segment of the story from a character's POV, and all of these guys all sound alike, speaking with the author's presumed voice, though that shouldn't be the case as their backgrounds are all different. As for the minutia, if you find yourself fascinated by every detail of every humdrum thought they have, this is great, but if you don't want to be laden with inanities, this is not so great. The only thing it shows us is how each character (ourselves?) is totally obsessed with self and pay lip service to others. But I don't think the message here is that profound, especially as the novel reads like it was written pretty easily, over the course of a weekend, and isn't meant to be a depressant, either.
A trend that bothers me, which is repeated here, is to have an author have his characters in the present novel praising the author's prior work, which is either a lot of ego at work or the latest marketing ploy, which I hope dies out soon.