David Foster Wallace at the Hammer

I have a tremendous appreciation and fondness for DFW. I’d seen him read once before, and tonight, for unlike last time, he seemed, for wont of a better word, colicky; fighting the audiance on questions and answers and just generally a little out of sorts. He read a bit of a new, unnamed piece, which was fine, and Incarnations of Burned Children, which is lousy, lousy, then terrific. I talked to him afterwards while he signed my book, and almost said you’re a lot more intimidating than Rick Moody, you know that? I’m glad I went. There were a lot of cute girls there.