The Stingray Shuffle

The Stingray Shuffle starts off in characteristic bizarro and nonsensical Tim Dorsey fashion. I guess I liked it from the start, and in this case Serge's buddy Lenny isn't quite as annoying as Coleman, even though they portray similar stoner sidekicks, But just when I am starting to flag, and I'm getting to the "come on, come on, give me something more" point, Dorsey will hit me with something like:

"For Christmas she installed dimmer switches in everyone's apartment."

OMG, that is so off-the-wall funny.

Overall though, this book felt like it had too many moving parts. I was having trouble keeping track of all the players, and it took a really, really long while to get everyone into place to carry out the story. With Dorsey, I am never show more sure it is writing for the sake of writing, drawing the story out, or writing to complete the story. All-in-all, the finale and ending really saved it though. Still weird, but funny nonetheless.

Here are a couple of excerpts from the book, parts I found particularly good and indicative of the Serge A. Storms series. They are taken out of order as I figured I'd include the shorter one first.

"The Gold Rush Hotel stood outside Reno. Way outside. Just desert and cactus and cattle skulls. It was out on the highway toward California, designed to catch the people coming in, who couldn't wait to get to Reno, and those leaving, who hadn't learned. There were slot machines at the reception desk, a slot machine in each booth of the restaurant, and long lines of clanging machines against the walls in the Sapphire Room."

[And... hone conversation between writer Ralph Krunkleton and his mostly estranged agent Tanner Lebos. To me, this illustrates the type of absurdity Dorsey manages to capture; nowadays you can read or hear exchanges like this and have to be warned that "it is not The Onion".]

[Krunkleton] "I don't want to tour. I like it here."

[Tanner] "Don't be a shmuck, Why did you write in the first place? So people would read your books. Well, now they're reading them. And they want to talk to you. You owe it to your fans."

Ralph was a stand-up guy. When Tanner put it that way, he couldn't refuse.

"What are they talking about?"

"Twenty cities, plus a few book festivals, a little TV and a celebrity mystery train."

"Could you repeat that last part?"

"It's the new thing. Mysteries are big now—who would have thought? They have all these fancy dinners and cruises and train rides where people pay a fortune to act all this shit out. Don't worry about the details—you'll be getting faxes."

"I don't have a fax machine."

"Doesn't matter. I have one of the new faxless fax machines. And you'll need some clothes."

"When is this supposed to start?"

"They were planning next Thursday. But that was before Publishers Weekly hit the stands. Have you seen it?"

"I'm in the Keys."

"There's an article on you, page sixty-seven. They've made you out like some kind of tropical Salinger. Nobody can get in touch with you. They can't find anyone who's seen you in years or even has a recent photo. There's talk you're keeping some dark secret, but they're not even sure you're still alive."

"That's crazy. I'm in town all the time. Have coffee at the same place every day. There are no secrets—"

"I've told the publisher I want to push back the tour a month so we can grow the ambient buzz about your bizarre need for privacy and seclusion, and when the public appetite is too much to stand, then we put you on the road."

"The publisher isn't going to go along with this foolishness."

"They already have a team working on your mystique. They want everyone wondering who or what it is you're hiding from."

"I'm not hiding from anything—"

"Start."

"What?"

"Don't leave the house, and don't answer the phone. Unless it's me."

"How will I know it's you?"

"Caller ID."

"I don't have caller ID."

"Even better. Adds to the myth. The recluse completely out of touch, shunning the new technology. We'll build you up like those Japanese living in island caves who think the war's still on. Maybe you've even gone insane

"There's nothing wrong with me."

"Let me worry about that. You stick to the books. Later."

Ralph put down the phone. "Unbelievable."

It rang again.

"Hello?"

"I thought I told you not to answer the phone."

"I didn't know we had started yet."

"We have."

"Sorry."

"While I've got you on the line, I want you to grow a beard. And start getting drunk in public."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to go out

"You can for that. It's pretty important."

"Anything else?"

"Do you think you can get arrested? I mean, do you know any local cops, some minor thing where you can arrange beforehand to get out immediately on bail? Do you have any drug connections?"

"Tanner—"

"I'm just thinking out loud now. I'm excited. Are you excited? Because I'm excited. Later."

Click. show less

Not my favorite Serge adventure, but this series is great for learing the minutia of Florida state history while being entertained.

Not as good as other Doresey fast paced Serge Storm novels. Serge gets caught up in a caper involving a suitcase full of money. The plot mimics the plot of a fictional fiction novelist who wrote "The Stingray Shuffle". It doesn't work very well, but the characters save the story from itself.

I enjoy reading Tim Dorsey - but I had a hard time with this book. I think it is one of those books where you really need to have read the series in order to completely follow what is going on. However, I do really enjoy his writing and the bizarre situations his characters find themselves in.

Zaney, Wacky story, always a good laugh

Serge Storm and the trail of the $5 million briefcase

Kindle (LFPL)