One of my favorite writers passed away (cancer) a couple of days ago at the age of 47. David Rakoff was hilarious, brilliant, and his death is a real loss to the literary world. But more importantly, he was loved and admired by many people and the whole thing just sucks.
I remember the first time I read Fraud and thinking, “I bet this would be even funnier if I was gay, Canadian, and Jewish. There are obviously a lot of jokes I’m not getting).
It was still pretty near a perfect reading experience for me.
If you’ve never read his work, here are his three books (Fraud is still my favorite, and sadly, that’s always going to be the case as he won’t get another chance to top it)
Half Empty The essay inHalf Emptyabout the resurgence of his cancer is suddenly heartbreaking–he thought he was more or less out of danger.
His NPR bits are all wonderful and I particularly love his Terry Gross interview.