What is a young man’s most vulnerable part?

You’d think Rollo would be discouraged, but he continually fails upward.

I suspect that only an avid new female readership will make it possible to resurrect popular interest in male-centered romantic comedies. As evidence it’s women to the rescue, I offer the expert opinion of none other than Jane Austen, who wrote in 1813:

One cannot be always laughing at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty.

Literature of the late twentieth century was dominated by male authors. In fact, there was an unrelenting series of Johns, including O’Hara, Steinbeck, Cheever, Updike, and Irving. Humor in the category of literary fiction was dominated by the hirsute likes of Wodehouse, Thurber, Mencken, De Vries, Lefcourt, and Barry. Exceptions included Dorothy Parker, who made a career of lampooning men, and Erma Bombeck, who picked unmercifully on housewives.

Since that time, book industry statistics show that women now buy more books than men do — and today they hold many of the managerial posts at publishing houses. In the area of comedy, Helen Fielding’s Bridget Jones’s Diary, appearing in 1996, set off a firestorm of book buying in the now sensationally popular genre of chick-lit.

So, one might ask, “Is male-centered comic fiction still a thing?” It is, I suggest, if women embrace it, starting with poor Rollo.

In February, Rollo #1 (the inflatable one) is 99c on Amazon Kindle and FREE from EPUB stores. The other two books in the series are reduced to $2.99 in either format.

The audiobook of My Inflatable Friend is available from Audible and other audio booksellers.