At a certain point in the day I heard the announcement that J.D. Salinger had died.
And I just stopped.
I knew it would happen one day, I mean, he was 91 years old and all, but geez -- it just shocked me. Honestly, [I'm not making this up] just the other day I was in the bookstore [as I am right now, typing this], and as I passed by one table of books I thought I saw the name Salinger.
And I realized that for a long while now I've had this inner expectation -- as though Salinger would one day produce another novel.
But no. It wasn't him.
And now, today -- the news that he is gone. The fact that he has not published anything since I was 17 months old old  aside, I can't help but feel that the world has lost a literary icon.
Perhaps something will posthumously be published, one day.
Salinger once said, “There is a marvelous peace in not publishing. It’s peaceful. Still. Publishing is a terrible invasion of my privacy. I like to write. I love to write. But I write just for myself and my own pleasure.”
I can't imagine how awesome it would be to be able to read some of that stuff.
At the same time -- we must respect the man's privacy.
In my opinion, the world has lost one of the most reclusive, mysterious, non-prolific, and yet influential authors of all time. Click on the image below, to see a terrific article: