An idea for a story is not a story. Work hard.
The odd refrain that a generation like ours, obsessed with it's YOLO-ness and it's braggadocio, might not be too familiar with: Work hard, and, hopefully, you'll get what you worked for and then some.
However, this is not the case. A new culture has emerged in the advent of the rise of technology and of the continual successes the United States has had, culturally-speaking, since the end of World War Two. This new culture is now consumed with competing dichotomies: American exceptionalism, vs American entitlement.
The greatness we can achieve vs what we feel we are owed simply because we have that American swagger that is copied and toyed with on a daily basis: Deco, in a nutshell, captures all of these dichotomies, and their consequential problems, in the area known as Miami-Dade. With much aplomb, if the term fits for such a novel.
Deco is the tale of the usual YOLO young adult: living off of student loans, in what they consider the luxurious life on South Beach, in the highest condo with the highest-priced accessories, most tricked-out cars, fanciest/most expensive restaurants, and the list goes on. Deco, and his super model girlfriend Chichi, live like royalty and feel that they should be respected for all of the hard work that they say they do in their lives. Of course, life crumbles down when a false sense of superiority is made apparent, as Deco's student loans come to get him, and his journey begins.
Traversing from Wynwood to Allapattah to Little Haiti and beyond, Deco's preconceived notions of what he should be entitled to have versus what he has to earn through hard work are built-up, prodded over, and demolished before he can even have a moment's rest. The heart of the story is this: Hard work and dedication will triumph over the try-hards and the big-mouths who do nothing but complain about the riches that they figure they deserve.
The novel is divided into blog-sized chapters, enough to sink your teeth into for a while, but not long enough to become overly lugubrious or purple-prose-like. What separates this novel from, say, Tom Wolfe's "Back to Blood" is the level of authenticity: while crotchety old Tom Wolfe hobnobbed around "Miami" for a short while, Mr. Colagrande has been able to tap into the whole of Miami through his time spent teaching Miami-Dade Community College English classes the past number of years.
This novel, almost a companion book to Voltaire's Candide, is a great satire: Hurry and Buy, and don't forget Deco's mentor's advice at the beginning of this article: We must work hard.