Last night I was saddened to hear the news that John Updike had died. Updike has long been one of my 2-3 favorite writers, and probably was America's greatest living writer. Or, to put it another way, he could certainly write better than most others, even if his books didn't always enjoy popular acclaim.
I have at least twenty of Updike's titles at home on my shelves, and I've read all four of the "Rabbit Angstrom" novels that won Updike two National Book Awards. His short stories, essays, and book reviews were regularly published in The New Yorker.
Anyway, I'll miss his new work. But unlike writers like me, Updike's work will live on well after his death. His work is for the ages. I will still enjoy taking his books on vacation with me, or just pulling one of his books from the shelf and reading or studying his style and great command of the language.
Rest in Peace, John.