So about two years ago, I sat down to write a novel. I was deep into a wonderfully clarifying kind of rage.

The rage had been a long time coming. By this point, I’d spent years being frustrated by two things: one, the fact that I was so often forced to speak to my three primary audiences (comic book geeks, literary NPR types, and Muslims) separately. There were things I could talk about to Muslims that most non-Muslims wouldn’t understand; things I could say to fellow...