What Is Missing and Why It’s Needed
For years, a certain kind of novel has been absent from bookstore shelves—contemporary literary fiction that speaks directly to men, particularly young men. Kristin McTiernan, an author and professional editor, recently made this exact observation on her YouTube channel, The Nonsense-Free Editor. She pointed out that while publishers cater to women with clearly defined categories like "women’s fiction," there’s no equivalent space for men. Instead, men’s reading habits are pushed into genre fiction—military sci-fi, fantasy, thrillers, or crime novels.
But what if a man just wants to read about life as he knows it? About friendships, relationships, the struggle to understand himself? Where are the books that explore love, heartbreak, and personal growth from an honest, male perspective?
That kind of book exists, but you have to look for it.
A Novel That Fills the Gap
I didn’t set out to write The Wake of Expectations as an answer to McTiernan’s question. I didn’t write it because I saw a market opportunity or because I thought men needed a particular kind of book. I wrote it because it was the only way to tell this story honestly. The only way I could tell it. But after hearing McTiernan’s argument, I realize my book might be exactly what she’s talking about.
The Wake of Expectations is literary fiction, not genre fiction. It’s about a young man navigating friendships, love, loss, and self-discovery. It doesn’t follow a chosen one on an epic quest. There’s no murder mystery to solve. It’s just life—the way life actually unfolds, with all of its humor, heartbreak, and uncertainty.
And that kind of story matters.
McTiernan’s video resonated with me because she wasn’t just making a publishing industry critique—she was making a case for why men need these kinds of stories.
Why Set It in the 1990s? Because It Had to Be.
The Wake of Expectations isn’t just contemporary fiction—it’s also a period piece, set in the mid-1990s. And that setting isn’t just aesthetic. It’s essential.
It had to take place at a time when:
Friendships happened in person. You didn’t have the option of disappearing into a group chat or lurking on social media. If you wanted to spend time with someone, you had to show up.
Dating required real risk. If you wanted to ask someone out, you had to pick up the phone, call their house, and potentially talk to their parents first. There was no "soft rejection" through a left swipe. You either put yourself out there, or you didn’t.
Conversations weren’t filtered through screens. When Calvin sits in a diner talking with friends, there are no distractions—just eye contact, body language, and the full weight of being present in the moment.
These things didn’t just make life different. They made relationships different.
Which raises a bigger question: If contemporary men’s fiction is disappearing, is it only because of market forces—or because young men today simply don’t relate to these kinds of interactions anymore?
Ryan Clark’s Perspective: The Fear of Real Rejection
Former NFL player Ryan Clark recently posted a video about how young men today struggle with real-world social interactions. He described the old-school way of "hollerin’ at a girl"—having to call her house, talk to her mother, and earn the right to speak to her. He talked about how exhilarating it was when that process worked.
But today? He says young men avoid this entirely. They don’t want to take the risk. Dating apps and social media give them a shield. If a girl rejects them online, they can convince themselves she rejected a profile, not them.
And that’s a problem. Because it means young men aren’t just losing the skills to approach women—they’re losing the experiences that build confidence, resilience, and emotional intelligence.
The same goes for friendships. If most of your interactions happen online, do you ever really experience the depth of connection that happens when you laugh, fight, and figure life out together in real time?
This isn’t about nostalgia. It’s about contrast.
Male Friendships: Real, Messy, and Worth Writing About
McTiernan made another point that resonated: fiction doesn’t explore male friendships enough.
This is something The Wake of Expectations leans into fully. Calvin has deep, complicated relationships with two key characters—Jake and Ben—but those friendships couldn’t be more different.
Jake is the friend who challenges Calvin. He’s sharp, unfiltered, and constantly forces Calvin to see things he’d rather ignore. There’s humor, rivalry, and brutal honesty.
Ben represents something else—a different kind of emotional depth and support, one that isn’t based on teasing or one-upmanship (though they do tease each other), but on something more layered and personal.
Male friendships aren’t one-size-fits-all. Some are built on shared experiences and tough love. Others carry a quiet emotional undercurrent. But those bonds matter, and literary fiction is one of the only places where they can be explored with the nuance they deserve.
Not a Blueprint—Just a Mirror
There’s one more thing I need to say about The Wake of Expectations.
I’m not presenting Calvin as a role model. He makes mistakes—a lot of them. It’s kind of the point of the story.
The book doesn’t tell readers what to think. It just shows Calvin’s life, choices, and consequences. The reader can examine them, relate to them, disagree with them—and take whatever lessons they need from it.
That’s what good literary fiction does. It doesn’t preach, and it doesn’t try to give you a perfect hero. It just holds up the mirror and invites you to look.
Why This Kind of Fiction Matters
So why does all of this matter?
Because stories shape us. Because men deserve books that reflect their experiences—not just the fantasy of who they could be, but the reality of who they are, who they’ve been, and who they’re becoming.
That’s what’s missing. And that’s why it’s needed.
Maybe that’s what a friend meant when she told me: "Your book will help people."
At the time, I wasn’t sure what she meant. But now, I think I understand.
Maybe a book like this helps just by existing. By giving men—especially young men—a chance to see their lives on the page.
By showing them what friendships, love, and identity looked like when everything wasn’t filtered through a screen.
Not to tell them that things were better. Just to show them how things were.
And let them decide for themselves.
Javier
© 2025 Chapelle Dorée Publishing, LLC. All rights reserved. This content may not be reproduced, distributed, or modified without permission.
Further Reading & References
The Nonsense-Free Editor on the Death of Men’s Fiction: Watch Kristin McTiernan’s video
Ryan Clark’s Comments on Modern Dating & Male Confidence: Watch his video on Facebook