Some say he is an exiled royal of the Russian Empire, living an anonymous life of wealth and good taste in the states of South East Australia.
Some say he is the real-life inspiration for Ian Fleming’s James Bond—an international man of mystery with a penchant for classic cars and even more classic watches.
Some say he is a lover of the simple life, happiest with a good book in one hand, an (Irish) coffee in the other and a cat on his lap.
Some say he speaks twelve languages.
Some say he is the publicity-shy author behind such hits as the Twilight series and the Four Ingredients cook books.
Some say he is the fiendish puppet master controlling Prince Philip and the international drug trade.
Some say he can tweet in his sleep.
Some say he suffers apoplectic fits at the misuse of the word decimate, sentences containing ‘myriad’ followed by ‘of’, the use of impact as a verb and the phrase ‘predominantly comprised of’.
Some say he once impacted a stakeholder meeting intended to incentivise participants to leverage synergies going forward.
Some say he wears the hell out of tweed.
Some say his filing technique is as mysterious as he is.
Some say he was the moody guitarist for a rock band composed entirely of librarians.
Some say they were called The Leptons.
Some say he taste-tests gin and tonic for a living.
Some say he likes hats.
All we know is that he’s been an exceedingly excellent publisher, a quiz-answerer extraordinaire, stylish to a fault and we’ll miss him dreadfully.
That said, we doubt he’ll be going too far afield.
Bless you Tim Coronel, it’s been a lot of fun.