It's hard to say what attracted me to this book in the first place. Certainly not the "main" storyline - Nathan and his ethereal, unattainable (I believe the popular term these days is "manic pixie dream girl"). I think it was the promise of the setting-as-character trope. Usually an interesting thing to read. Plus there was the prospect of a plethora of quirky characters and a "hilarious new voice" in Brian Kimberling, as promised by the book blurb.Whatever the draw, Snapper did not live up to my expectations. It wasn't a particularly bad book. I just found myself wanting to do other things than read it. I would pick up the book and have the sudden urge to clip my toenails or clean the bathroom or write a novella.There were a few intriguing mini-plots: the snapping turtle named Mo, the friend who pushed Nathan down a flight of stairs, the German Shepherd who thought she could sing. but there was no sense of urgency to any of the action, when when Mo bit off a kid's thumb. In fact, the narrator - the first person narrator - faints, effectively cutting us right out of the immediate action. Then I kept waiting for the hilarity to start. It didn't, not really. Not even Fast Eddie, founder of Thong Thursdays, was particularly funny. If anything he was annoying because Nathan and his best friend were annoyed by him. The tone of the book overall was so subsumed by five layers of removal and introspection that the writing felt as dull and flat as Indiana itself.