I have just been informed by several people that John Updike is dead.
Words fail me right now. And I have been lurched over for the last few minutes. Updike meant a lot to me. As much as Westlake, McGoohan, and David Foster Wallace. And I hope that I can bring myself to articulate something in the next few hours.
In the meantime, I will just say that one of my favorite Segundo interviews was Show #50, in which I had the good fortune to interview the man. I will reveal more of the story behind that interview later, and offer more words when I have a clearer head. But this is a major blow to American letters. Rabbit and Bech are now truly dead.