Michael Dorris: What Went Wrong?

The literary world was shocked yesterday at the news that Michael Dorris, a novelist and nonfiction writer seemingly at the top of his game, had killed himself.

Dorris, 52, checked into a motel in Concord, N.H., under an assumed name. He used a plastic bag to suffocate himself, police said. His body was found on Friday but the news did not filter out to the media until late Sunday night.

Today, The Minneapolis Star Tribune reported that Dorris was facing an investigation concerning allegations of criminal sexual conduct involving one or more children. Minneapolis police Lt. Rick Nelson confirmed the published reports.

Jennifer Fling, spokeswoman for the Hennepin County attorney's office, said today that Dorris had been referred to prosecutors by police.

She said the police file would become public after the case is closed, probably within a week. Closing a case and releasing the file is routine when a suspect dies, she said.

His estranged wife, novelist and poet Louise Erdrich, would not discuss the potential charges that may have led him to take his own life.

"Michael did a huge amount of good in the world. He also suffered from severe depressions," Erdrich told the Star Tribune.

Dorris had been a celebrated author who wrote novels for adults and children, essays, short stories and nonfiction.

One of his key works is the best-selling "The Broken Cord," which chronicled the crisis of an adopted child with fetal alcohol syndrome. It became a hit ABC-TV movie in 1992.

Friends, apparently unaware of the pending investigation, said Dorris first tried to kill himself March 28, but had been interrupted. He was hospitalized for a short time for "exhaustion."

"I'm not only a novelist but a psychologist, and I'm totally shocked," mystery writer Jonathan Kellerman said on hearing the news. "I saw him in October . . . I didn't see any sign of depression."

Dorris and Erdrich, 42, were in the middle of a divorce that was apparently very acrimonious. "He was devastated by it," said publisher Bill Shinker.

"It doesn't compute," said Caroline Leavitt, a novelist for whom Dorris has been acting as agent. In e-mail communications with her, Dorris would sometimes say things such as, "You don't know what's going on. You don't want to know the melodrama." He would never be explicit.

"He was so determined that, although this was a terrible time, he would get over it and be happy," Leavitt said. "He wasn't going to live his life alone . . . He was going to find someone else. He really didn't bear any animosity toward Louise."

His novel "Cloud Chamber," published in January, included a dedication that, even in the midst of his despair, he did not wish to change. "For Louise," it said simply. "Who found the song and gave me voice."

One of his last messages to Leavitt, in February, said, "Pray for me."

Erdrich issued a brief statement yesterday. "Michael did a great deal of good for the world. He is deeply grieved by his family and friends." She suggested donations in his memory go to the Seattle Foundation's Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Fund.

In the early '70s, Dorris, who was part Modoc Indian, was widely credited with being the first single father in the country to adopt. The child was a Native American suffering from fetal alcohol syndrome.

He recounted the experience of the eldest child, Abel, in "The Broken Cord" in 1989, which won a National Book Critics Circle award. The story, however, ended in tragedy: Abel was killed by a car in 1991.

Two years ago, the middle child, Sava, stood trial on charges of trying to extort $15,000 from Dorris and Erdrich. A jury acquitted him on one charge and deadlocked on a second, leading to its dismissal.

The mere fact that Dorris and Erdrich were splitting up was unbelievable to some. Their marriage, as several friends noted sadly yesterday, was one of the great literary love stories of the 1980s. They not only had brilliant careers but were very public about their esteem and passion for each other.

"I would not be writing if I were not working with her," Dorris said in 1987. The following year, Erdrich called Dorris "a spiritual guide, a therapist, someone who allows you to go down to where you just exist and where you are in contact with those very powerful feelings that you had in your childhood." She, too, said she would never be able to go on writing without him.

While different names were on most of the books, the couple insisted in interviews that everything was done together. They compared their collaborative process to the Vulcan "mind meld" on "Star Trek."

And then somehow, it all went wrong.

As part of his book tour late last month, Dorris read in Washington, D.C., in PEN/Faulkner's literary series, from "Cloud Chamber" and a forthcoming children's book, both of which feature the teen-ager Rayona who starred in "Yellow Raft."

"Rayona's a character I can't let alone, or she won't let me alone," he told the crowd. "Somebody said that in my next life I will come back as a 14-year-old girl. I said, `That's this life. Next life, I'll come back as me.' "

Information from Associated Press is included in this report.

------------------ Fetal Alcohol Fund ------------------

Michael Dorris founded the Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Fund in cooperation with the Seattle Foundation. Dorris' family suggests that those who wish to contribute send donations to: Seattle Foundation, Suite 510, 425 Pike St., Seattle, WA 98101.