A few weeks ago, Glen Engel-Cox asked me where the female writers were in my list of favorite authors. I didn't have a good answer then, but I think I have a partial answer now.

I mean, it's not as if I go out of my way to avoid writers without a Y chromosome. It's just that the writers that speak most directly to me, the ones where I understand most of the "in" jokes, the ones whose prose I find myself savoring, are men. Three of my absolute favorites are Richard Powers, David Foster Wallace, and Jonathan Franzen — three white men, each 10-15 years older than I, who write complex literary fiction. I have a tremendous amount in common with these writers. Setting aside the obvious fact that I'm a crappy writer, we share a cultural background, an interest in pop culture and science, and a love of language. Until today, I had never thought about how similar they are (I had never realized how close they are in age — all early-to-mid forties), but I guess that helps explain why I look up to them and why I take such pleasure in their writing. I'm interested in reading widely and diversely, but the white American male writer 15 years my senior has been my literary center for nearly ten years and will probably continue to be so for a while yet.

How To Be Alone is an essay collection, and as such, it's a bit of a mixed bag. Franzen tackles Alzheimers, privacy, the importance of the literary novel, the ailing postal service in Chicago, prisons, his brush with Oprah, and more. The more recent essays are better than the older ones, perhaps because Franzen has become more comfortable with his voice over the years, but all of them are worthwhile. Of course, if you aren't like me, a 30-something white American guy with a penchant for artful prose, your mileage may vary.