Credits
Paul Simon, serial killer John Wayne Gacy, New York Rangers goalie Mike Richter, the black-lipsticked lead singer of a fledgling glam-rock band, the guy who does research for Elmore Leonard, his own kid -- the cast of Wilkinson's collection of nonfiction is more grab bag than that of any '70s disaster movie. But the all-seeing ''New Yorker'' writer holds it all together by placing fun, searching profiles early on; darker, doomier stuff at the end; and, best of all, personal pieces in between. The book's unexpected, heart-tightening high points are his two essays about raising a son who exhibits symptoms of autism-like Asperger's syndrome, an experience that offers Wilkinson, ''time and again, unbidden, the opportunity to have my heart broken on behalf of my child.''




