That's a book I'll definitely be reading.

Hm. That excerpt gave me the impression that even Great Men have rather uninteresting narcissistic occupations.
Or maybe I don't have a taste for literary gossip.

Oh, dear. This:

he desperately wanted to be a novelist again but some piece of him still felt too fragile to attempt an effort so key to his well-being

cut me to the quick.

For reasons I never sorted out, DFW's death knocked me for a loop. Though I've enjoyed some of his work, I was never especially attached to either his work or his personal image. But his death broke my heart a little bit, and maybe that's why: because it comes across in his writing how hard he's trying and how acutely he felt the failures --- personal, professional, and artistic --- that befall us all.