As if losing Howard Zinn wasn't enough, J.D. Salinger died today. J.D. Salinger is probably my favorite American author, ever. Franny and Zooey has been my favorite book since high school, to the point that Lee bought me a first edition copy for our first Christmas together. When Amy told me she had a rare collection of his short stories when I was staying with her and Duck this summer, I stayed in all night and read them in one sitting. My brother and I spent about twenty minutes this afternoon texting back and forth with oblique references to the Glass family. (He said I was a Buddy and not a Seymour, which is one of the nicest compliments I've received lately because I've always kind of worried that I'm most like Boo Boo. Also, it reassures me that he does not want me to shoot myself in the head.) I feel like it shouldn't be as sad when your favorite author hasn't been writing for decades, but this was a total bummer. RIP, JDS.
"An artist's only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection, and on his own terms, not anyone else's."
- J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey
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