Pssst! Hey, A.J. Jacobs! Got a book idea for you.

My mother’s book group is taking on your book “The Know It All,” which, for readers unfamiliar with the title, chronicles your efforts to read the entire Encyclopedia Britannica, cover to cover. (I recommended it, so I sure hope they like it.)

I was looking up information about you to share with my mom and saw you’d since written two other books, which I haven’t read: “The Year of Living Biblically,” in which you spent an entire year trying to live, literally, by the Bible, or at least as closely as you could; and “The Guinea Pig Diaries,” about a series of social experiments.

I’m sold. I haven’t even read these other two books, but I can tell, if anyone can take on this new book idea I’ve got, you’re the guy.

See, here’s the thing. I’m constantly being told, every time I open the paper or turn on the computer or flip through a magazine, that in order to be a perfectly healthy, well-rounded person – good parent, good spouse, good employee, etc. – I need to spend a certain amount of time doing certain things.

I need to sleep for eight hours each night, for instance, not the six and a half I usually scrape. I need a minimum half-hour’s worth of aerobic exercise five times a week and strength training on the other two days. I need to work 30 hours a week to maintain my health insurance coverage. I need to brush my teeth two minutes twice a day.

I need to sit down at the table to eat with my family to help keep the Princesses off drugs. I need to have date nights with my husband and spend quality one-on-one time with my kids. I need to take time for myself.

I need to allow time for daily prayer and Bible-reading. I need to update my photo albums (which still have Little Princess, my second-grader, as a newborn). I need to plan for my retirement.

I need to recycle more and Facebook less. I need to disinfect the surfaces of my bathroom and kitchen to better prevent H1N1. I need to think globally, act locally and eat organically. I need to call my mother.

What I really need, A.J., is a clone. The world hasn’t got that yet, but it does have you. So I’m pitching this whole thing as a book possibility: Would you spend a year following all the healthy-person rules, so I can read about how such a thing can be accomplished in a 24-hour day?

I have a feeling you might have to file it under “fiction.”