Serge, Coleman felt at home here

We can’t let another day go by without a belated fond Citrus County farewell to a great friend, Tim Dorsey.

Tim was the author of 26 best-selling novels, a funny guy who connected with people like me in a special Floridian way.

He died Nov. 26. I was unaware until I searched for a Dorsey quote last week and saw the news stories. He lived in Tampa and was just 62.

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I’m pretty sure this blog wouldn’t exist if not for his books. 

Plus, he had a widely scattered batch of rabid followers who would pack the local libraries each year whenever Tim came to visit. Tim's book tours took him to Citrus and a hundred other libraries across the state, where he entertained packed community rooms with the real-life adventures behind his books.

I took today’s photo during the 2018 ShrimpaPalooza parade in Homosassa. Meeting Dorsey is one of my professional highlights.

I started reading Dorsey around 2017 at the behest of Eric Head, the county’s director of community services who at the time led the library system. I was looking for a Florida fiction author because I had read Carl Hiaasen time and again and wanted something fresh.

Eric offered up Tim Dorsey.

Oh my. I found his books instantly riveting. Hiaasen without a parent in the room. Dorsey’s characters, including the entertainingly insane Serge A. Storms and his drunk/druggie sidekick Coleman, weave tales that hooked me and kept me coming back. Repeatedly.

I flew through Dorsey books. They became my distraction. Even today, I rarely go three or four months without reading Dorsey.

The story lines were great enough, but what really endeared Dorsey to his legions of fans was his extraordinary knowledge of Florida. He weaved actual people, places and things into his novels.

While much of the action stays closer to the bigger cities or the Keys, Citrus County is well represented. Crystal River, Homosassa, and Inverness all have roles in his books. Even Lu the hippo, who wouldn’t hurt a flea on purpose, is used by Serge to teach a bad person a lesson. If you get my drift.

Plus, Tim himself was just a genuinely nice guy. He connected with readers. He wore colorful tropical shirts and told funny stories, such as how to rig the thermostat and a.c. units in hotel rooms — a frequent issue for the fictional Serge.

I learned so much from that guy.

I didn’t think about this until very recently, but Dorsey gave me great advice about the process of writing. At the time I was thinking of writing a book upon retirement (you’re reading it right now) and wondered about the discipline of writing.

Dorsey’s view was especially important to me. He was incredibly proficient — a new novel came out just about every January. Well-written, funny, imaginative. He never mailed it in. How did he do that?

His answer was matter-of-fact. He wrote every day because it paid the bills. It was his job. He didn’t slack because it would cost him later. 

Boy, I’m glad I heard that from him. I totally get it. Writing isn’t nearly as easy as it looks, even when fun like this. Habits are critical. I write 700 words or so five days a week, going on well over two years. I don’t know anybody who does that. Even at the Chronicle, I didn’t write EVERY day. 

Dorsey gave me the framework to handle that mental workload. He churned out a new novel annually for 25 years because he developed habits that worked well for him.

His connection with readers isn’t surprising. He did something with library audiences that has had a profound impact on JWC: The selfie.

Tim regularly took selfies with smiling, laughing readers waving at the camera, and posted them on his website.

There are people who think very highly of themselves, and there are people who are thought of highly by others. Tim Dorsey was the latter. A regular guy, hard worker, great sense of humor, who traveled Florida backroads connecting with the ordinary, the way Serge A. Storms would do.

I interviewed Tim for a Chronicle story in 2018 when he was grand marshal of the Homosassa ShrimpaPalooza parade. One of my favorite stories ever.

After learning of Tim’s passing, I started re-reading “The Pope of Palm Beach”, considered Dorsey’s deepest novel. Serge’s exploits take place in Riviera Beach, where Dorsey grew up.

I bought the book from Dorsey at ShrimpaPalooza, and he signed it, “For Mike, Best always.”

I know, standard autograph. Which I treasure.

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