J.D. Salinger, R.I.P.

It is impossible for me to not comment on the passing of someone who was, unquestionably, my favorite writer.

Were I not in Costa Rica and if my time to write wasn’t extremely limited, I would certainly feel a kind of obligation to describe in great detail how deeply affected I was when I read “The Catcher in the Rye” and how I greedily consumed the remainder of Salinger’s works. He was the first and most significant of my inspirations to write, and like so many of his readers I read through all of his writings numerous times, sad that there wasn’t more.

Salinger was a poignant storyteller, his dialogue unmatched, and with the Glass family he created some of the most eccentric yet thoroughly human characters in fiction.

While I always selfishly wished he’d published more, I never begrudged him his turn toward reclucivity. He’d gotten a taste of the limelight and didn’t like it. In my book, there’s more than a little sanity in that.

All I can think to end with is: thank you.

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