I started reading Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace in October. I finished it last night. I am not a slow reader. I read it almost every single day. It is a challenging book, is what I am getting at. And long. 981 pages; 1079 with footnotes. And the font isn’t that large and the margins aren’t that big and DFW isn’t much into paragraphs, but really likes abbreviations (without which we’ve speculated it could have doubled in length). I got a new dictionary because of (for) this book. Entire meetings of English Club were devoted to IJ. We were all reading it. It has been nice going through it with others, to share in the confusion and awe of DFW and IJ.

I don’t really know what else to say about it or where I would even begin. When I finished it, I just sat there and stared at the blank space on the lower half of page 981. I had known the end was coming. I’d read the last footnote with eager regret. I had often thumbed to 981 with a twinge of doubt that I would ever reach it (I had started IJ at least 3 times before). I texted Abdul who had finished it the previous week and while waiting for his response, I realized I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

I closed the book. I reopened it to the first page and started reading it again.

When Abdul responded he suggested I do exactly what I had done and then said the most perfect thing: “I feel like the story is just starting and I’m starving for more of that world.”