Discussed in this essay:

Half an Inch of Water, by Percival Everett. Graywolf Press. 176 pages. $16.

Over the course of thirty or so years, Percival Everett has written thirty or so books, most of them novels. A restless polymath with a knack for deconstructing genres, he has quietly built up one of the most eclectic and original bodies of work in American letters. There are quasi noirs, antiwesterns, retellings of Greek myths, and academic farces — plus four story collections, a few volumes of poetry, and a children’s book.

Mainstream literary fame has eluded Everett, or perhaps…