"If he wanted, he could fire his .45 and nothing or nobody in the world would hear other than some deer or raccoons. Least of all Tina Rutherford, the nineteen-year-old college student, white girl, he was both hoping and hoping not to find under the cloud of buzzards."
It's the placement that small word not that made me pause and admire this writer's mastery of craft.
If not was placed to the left of hoping-- he was both hoping and not hoping to find --it makes sense, scans well and it works.
But shifting to hoping and hoping not is elegant. It's the difference between ice milk and ice cream.
This is the kind of writing that makes me slow down and pay attention.
It's from CROOKED LETTER, CROOKED LETTER by Tom Franklin, a book I first heard about at the Bookrageous podcast, and found at M is for Mystery in San Mateo.