Final Thoughts on It's About Squirrels by Lynn Abbey
Book: It’s About Squirrels… | Author: Lynn Abbey
So we made it through the whole story. Squirrels, ghosts, brownies, a fairy queen who can’t pronounce “electricity,” and a Rube Goldberg trap made of beer cups and silverware balanced on a rocking chair. What a ride.
But here’s the thing I keep coming back to. This story isn’t really about squirrels or fairies. It’s about loneliness.
The Quiet Heart of the Story
Nic is a dot-com crash survivor stuck in a rented trailer in the dead center of Florida. Her parents are paying her rent. She sends resumes into the void. She called the utility company just to have another human voice to listen to. That detail alone tells you everything. The fantasy elements are almost secondary to this very real portrait of someone whose entire world collapsed.
If you’ve ever been somewhere you don’t belong, just waiting for things to change, you understand Nic.
Bobby Walker is the Real Treasure
Bobby Walker makes this story. On the surface he’s a simple Southern neighbor with a red pickup plastered in Gators decals. But then he tells you his Scottish mother left for a “vacation” when he was twelve and never came back. He drops lines like “Nobody belongs here, we’re just passing through on our way up, or down.”
The friendship forming between Nic and Bobby is maybe more magical than the actual fairies. Two people finding something real in the last place either of them expected.
Florida as Fantasy Setting
The “dead center of Florida” already feels otherworldly before any supernatural elements show up. Pallbearer squirrels. Ospreys dropping fish into transformers. A road called the Hobo’s Highway. Trailer parks and dirt roads. Abbey blurred the line between “Florida is just genuinely weird” and “there’s actual magic here” so smoothly that you barely notice when the story crosses over.
The Fairy Lore Feels Real
No Disney sparkle here. The brownies are cat-sized, leathery, sharp-featured creatures addicted to electricity. The fairy man is angry and aristocratic. The fairy queen can barely wrap her mouth around the word “ee-lek-trece-ity.” This is old-school folklore dressed in modern clothes, and it works because Abbey treats it with respect instead of making it cute.
A fairy creature getting trapped on a hard drive during a power surge caused by suicidal squirrels. That’s wonderfully absurd. It’s the kind of “what if” that makes great fantasy.
Funny Without Trying Too Hard
From “Florida squirrels read clocks?” to Bobby’s joke about “suth’run brownies” needing beer and pork rinds instead of bread and milk, the humor lands because it comes from the characters, not from the narrator winking at you. The Rube Goldberg brownie trap scene is comedy gold and it works because Nic knows how ridiculous it is. She just doesn’t have a better option.
The Ending is Honest
The magic doesn’t fix Nic’s life. She rescues the brownie. She meets what might be the fairy queen. She gets a warm touch on her cheek and the scent of ozone. And then she’s alone again in the same trailer, still unemployed, still lonely. But there’s something different now. Small connections with Bobby. A world bigger and stranger than she thought. Hope that doesn’t come from a job offer, but from realizing you’re not as alone as you felt.
That’s a good ending. An honest one.
Who Should Read This
If you like urban fantasy with real humor instead of forced quirkiness, read this. If you enjoy Neil Gaiman’s style of finding magic hidden in the mundane, you’ll feel at home here. If you just want a short, satisfying read that respects both its characters and its readers, this story delivers.
Lynn Abbey wrote something small and true. I’m glad I spent time with it.
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