I am of the same kidney as Disraeli, who said: “When I want to read a novel, I write one.” And I am in fact writing one. And that’s the one I most look forward to reading.

Narcissism aside, I am dismayed to say that there are no novels or fiction authors I intensely want to read, in the sense of thinking 2 or 3 times a day: “Gosh, if I could only find the time to get started on reading X!” This is, I’ll agree, sad; though since I recently got all the way through Neal Stephenson’s spacetime-bending 3,800-page tetralogy, I think I’m doing my duty fiction-wise.

But, let’s see. I think I’d like to read some sci-fi. People have being recommending Vernon Vinge to me for just about ever, but I haven’t even cracked a spine. With the Heinlein centenary coming up (7/7/07–there’s a birth date to covet!) & the probability that I shall want to write something about the great man, I’d like to round off my Heinlein reading, too–there are at least two of his books I’ve never touched.

In short, my answers are therefore: (A) John Derbyshire, (B) Robert A. Heinlein.