John Updike is dead.
It doesn’t seem possible.
I felt personally attached to him, in the way that we do to authors we love. My first undergraduate research paper as an English major at St. Cloud State was on Updike’s three Rabbit novels. When he read in St. Paul at what was then The Hungry Mind bookstore, I got there an hour early to get a seat, and waited in an endless line to have him sign some books. (Anybody who knows me knows that it’s truly a big deal for me to be early anywhere).
I’m sad. Who can write a more perfetly crafted story than “At the A & P”?