So for the past two weeks I’ve been secretly reading tons and tons of blog posts, articles, obits, and tributes to David Foster Wallace. This has significantly affected my productivity – I literally spend significant portions of my free time reading what other writers and bloggers have to say about a writer that could have written circles around them on any day of the week.

Having read much of his non-fiction, a chunk of his short stories and still working my way through the beast, I was more than saddened to hear of his death. I even struggled through two thirds of that damn book on infinity before realizing I was barely understanding any of what he was writting. It’s gotten to me more than I thought it would. And yes, I’m a bit tired of the forwarded college speeches, recycled stories, reflections on his teaching, analysis of references to suicide in his writing, and links to his appearance on the Charlie Rose show. I’ve reacquainted myself with all of these through my blog perusing travels. However, the most interesting artifact to come out of this is the copy of his college syllabus. There was a point while at UCLA, that I regretted not attending the Claremont Colleges (I’d applied and been accepted for early admission to Pitzer) solely based on the fact that “THE DFW” taught there. I’ve exhausted by DFW-related blog reading. Let the other forms of procrastination return.