I'd just finished and loved Miranda July's novel 'All Fours' last year when my colleague Marie Solis wrote a profile of July with the headline, 'She Wrote the First Great Perimenopause Novel.' This was the first time I'd heard the book mentioned in these superlative terms. 'All Fours' is about a woman in her 40s who sets off on a road trip from California to New York but gets waylaid a few miles from home, rents a motel room and stays there for three weeks, during which time she reconsiders all the received ideas she's internalized about being a wife, mother, woman, artist. I'd read the book the way I consume most of July's work -- quickly, excitedly, marveling at how her brain works, how she's able to take seemingly ineffable experiences and make them explicit.