How was my day? I’m trying not to remember. A wry, unconventional character study, Andrew (A to Z) is a sort of mosaic that the reader assembles subconsciously. Focusing on the narrator’s family, friends, co-workers, and neighbors, it is the story of a quasi-neurotic malcontent on the edge of the edge of middle middle-age. An amateur photographer, the office satirist, an evening’s dinner guest, Andrew pastes together in alphabetical disorder a collage portrait of his baffled suburban life. Excerpt: Arizona. There is a rumor I was born there, but I don’t believe it. I don’t feel like a person who was born in Arizona, I feel like a person who was born somewhere else-somewhere with trees and an ocean and a liberal political tradition. Somewhere like Washington or Oregon or Massachusetts.