Female novelists replaced white male authors in the 2010s.

In late March 2011, the New Yorker fiction editor Deborah Treisman interviewed Jennifer Egan about her new novel-in-stories, A Visit from the Goon Squad. It was Egan's fourth book, following a string of minor hits, and it was also that rare event in 21st century publishing - a cyclone of critical and commercial triumph, from airport tables to book-review pages. Treisman read aloud a note from a reader who explained that Egan's writing made her want to "discontinue her subscription to her antidepressants." Goon Squad was a hybrid miracle, a brilliantly arranged postmodern collage with a beating heart warm enough to render SRRI's obsolete. Who knew that could still happen?