What men and race horses have in common: a narrow focus, and what that means for novelists

A review of a Simon & Schuster novel reminded me of who's to blame for this description of men: "They're infantile, unfaithful, invariably awful in bed. One woman describes a sexual encounter feeling more accidental than anything else, 'like hitting a patch of black ice, he slid into me and then it was over.'" A self branded cliche by all those never-read-a-novel men, who instead watch Fox, NASCAR, the wording of their hunting lease. Who if they did, these political sports junkies, open something like After Issactown once or twice a year, could be, if not the majority, a moderating influence on women writers, whose aggrieved heroines, in some shape or fashion, dominate almost all genres. Explaining why a publisher like Simon & Schuster parades "Blueprints for Building Better Girls" down its boulevard of first editions. A place some of us, maybe half of us, would like to go.