Nicholson Baker gained notoriety and numerous fans with his inventive erotic novels "Vox" -- transcribing a deliriously imaginative phone sex marathon -- and "The Fermata" -- the tale of an office worker who can stop time and uses his powers to undress women. Baker's most fervent literary admirers, however, swear by his first novel, "The Mezzanine," which takes place on an escalator, and "U and I," a book-length essay detailing the author's obsessive admiration for John Updike. His new book of essays, "The Size of Thoughts," collects pieces written for The Atlantic Monthly and The New Yorker and an original, 150-page examination of the history of the word "lumber" in English poetry. On topics ranging from toenail clippers, to the death of the library card catalog, to the the literal size of thoughts ("most are about three feet tall, with the level of complexity of a lawnmower engine, or a cigarette lighter, or those tubes of toothpaste that, by mingling several hidden pastes and gels, create a pleasantly striped product"), these writings showcase Baker's signature style: dazzling descriptive powers married to a passionate enthusiasm for the neglected flotsam and jetsam of everyday life.