It’s a terrible year.

We have lost so many greats this year from Tim Russert to Bernie Mac, and none more important to me personally than David Foster Wallace, a brilliant writer, who has left us just far too soon.

At the very young age of 46, David Foster Wallace has been found dead in his California home on Friday September 12th, apparently a victim of suicide by hanging. It’s true that only the good die young, no matter how they go.

Reading David Foster Wallace both makes me want to be the best I can be, and scares the crap out of me with his talent. I have said in more than one therapy session, “I should just give up, I’ll never be a David Foster Wallace, and knowing that it like a terrible torture”. It’s true. So few of us can ever be as good as David Foster Wallace, and that makes his early departure from us even more terrible to bear.

My thoughts go out to his friends and family, who were lucky enough to know him and love him.

We lose everyone good.