Nick Hornby’s novels tend read like a cross between a journal and a screen play. It’s no surprise that many have been turned into movies. They are chic lit but for men, too; bubble gum; beach reads. But they have this surprising depth of emotion and insight. I didn’t realize until recently that Hornby’s first book (Fever Pitch) is semi-autobiographical. (By the way, it has two film versions. The earlier one stars Colin Firth. You’re welcome.)