Although I never knew the guy, I wanted to place a brief post in memoriam of author David Foster Wallace, 46, who sadly committed suicide this past week in California where he had been teaching college English.
The only reason I know who DFW was is due to him having taught at Illinois State University (where I went to school) in the ‘90s, where he had a reputation of being a quirky, brilliant rebel – which prompted me to happily register for one of Wallace’s writing classes only to be disappointed later when he backed out at the last minute, and the course was handed to another, far less interesting instructor.
Either way, his passing—especially under such sad circumstances—merits a note here today.
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