Florida's crime writers are never shy about chronicling our state's inherent craziness. You might say it's much of the reason some of them are driven to write in the first place.

But ripping insanity from the headlines and turning it into a whole 'nother story is one thing. What's really compelling is when a writer goes above, below and beyond all the looniness and concocts a whole new level in crazy.

Such a scribe is Tim Dorsey. Beginning with 1999's bloody-good Florida Roadkill, Dorsey has done more for our state's patented brand of insanity than anyone since Harry Crews or Carl Hiaasen. His device? A madman named Serge A. Storms, star of 11 of Dorsey's dirty dozen books. Storms will kill and kill again on behalf of his beloved Florida; he's actually quite eager to do so and in the most diabolically inventive ways imaginable.

Storm's latest, er, surge, is in Gator A-Go-Go (William Morrow $24.99), which follows the psycho civic booster and his perennially stoned sidekick Coleman as they cut a swath through the story of spring break, from Panama City to Fort Lauderdale. As always, the unlikely duo hit a hodge-podge of hallowed landmarks. And, as always, the bad guys get what's coming -- and then some. But though woe becomes those who wrong Storms or our state, Dorsey's sprees are more romp than revenge fantasies, even if they do leave the reader positively giddy with sociopathic glee.

The Miami Herald caught up with Dorsey as he launched another of his extensive Florida road tours.

Q: Serge seems be like Charles Bronson's character in Death Wish, though he's out for revenge on behalf of a whole state rather than himself. What would you say was the pivotal episode that drove him to do what he does?

A: Well, actually, he was an accidental creation, and the pivotal role was more in me writing the first draft of the first book. What happened was he was just going to be a regular villain -- a kind of over-the-top, larger-than-life villain -- so I made him really insane. Then when he started studying about Florida history he quickly evolved into my own mouthpiece. He went from this supporting character that wasn't going to last beyond the first book to basically being my alter ego, except I'm nonviolent.

What drew me to him were simply my years as a journalist, all the stories and stuff that I read. You get pretty jaded, but there are certain things that you would read or edit or cover as a reporter that would spark your sense of outrage. So he became my sort of avenging angel for things that hacked me off.

Q: Sacred Sunshine State places creep up throughout your books. Here we have the Rod and Reel Motel (now Resort) on Anna Maria Island; Gilly's Pub 44 in New Smyrna Beach; Bahia Cabana, overlooking Bahia Mar (now a Days Inn); the Candy Store (which is no more), and the Elbo Room (which has been saved). I take it you must have some strong feelings when one of them meets the wrecking ball?

A: Oh yeah. I visit all of these places. One of my favorite compliments is when people say they take a highlighter and go over all the real places in the book so that when they take a road trip they can visit all these sites, which is pretty much my main goal. If I really enjoy something or find somewhere I really like out there on the road I want to share it, so I have Serge tout the state's history. Unfortunately, the books have been coming out about 11 years, and a lot of the places are already gone.