In many literary circles, the name David Foster Wallace has almost come to represent an enigma. He was the brilliant author of the novel Infinite Jest and an almost mysterious figure. His story seems to repeat that of other great writers such as Ernest Hemingway and Sylvia Plath: tormented by a depression that somehow made him brilliant at what he did, he sadly took his own life in 2008. Here is an interesting article and interview with Wallace. Yesterday’s date marked what would have been his 50th birthday. I lift my glass to a great author – thankful that his legacy can live on through the works he left behind.