Rest in peace, DFW

I checked out Atrios and saw he'd written an uncharacteristically long post about why his blog was called Eschaton. I wondered what brought that on, and then scrolled down and the immediately preceding post was a link to this:

David Foster Wallace, the novelist, essayist and humorist best known for his 1996 tome "Infinite Jest," was found dead last night at his home in Claremont, according to the Claremont Police Department. He was 46.

Jackie Morales, a records clerk at the Claremont Police Department, said Wallace's wife called police at 9:30 p.m. Friday saying she had returned home to find her husband had hanged himself.

Claire and I went to see him do a reading from "Consider the Lobster" at the Strand bookstore a couple of years ago. It's a collection of short stories, and he read "The View From Mrs. Thompson's," which is about 9/11, and it was the quietest crowded room I've ever been in. When we left I told Claire my fondness for him was "officially hero worship," and I meant it.