A Good Thing to Read Today Would Be "Rabbit Remembered"

I have been moping for 24 hours because John Updike died. He is the second of my favorite living authors to die in recent years -- Kurt Vonnegut was the first.
The death of a beloved author is so different, for me, than when any other celebrity dies. It may seem silly. After all, I didn't know Mr. Updike personally. It's not as if I was breathlessly awaiting great new work from him; to be honest, my Updikephilia is focused on just four books that he wrote many years ago, the Rabbit series. Nothing else in his vast oeuvre ever measured up in my eyes (not that I've read it all) and I certainly wasn't expecting him to top it in his old age.
But when I read and love a living author's work, I think some part of me always hopes that I will get a chance to meet this person, or -- even more far fetched -- that they will someday read my work and love me as I have loved them. Ridiculous, I know, considering my lack of accomplishment and renown in the realm of fiction and essays. But before, it was possible. Now, it's a grim certainty that my literary crush will forever be unrequited.
Nutmeg was with me when I heard yesterday on the radio that he had died at age 76. Like any sensitive child, she doesn't like to hear Mommy upset, but I couldn't help letting loose a loud "Oh, no!" at the news.
Today, of course, Fresh Air replayed an old interview with Updike, and again we were in the car. After every break, Terri Gross repeated that "Updike died yesterday of lung cancer."
"Radio!" Nutmeg yelled from the back seat. "Stop REMINDING us!"

The Reader

Friday we made a quick trip to the library and I helped Nutmeg find a whole stack of books from her latest favorite series: Junie B. Jones.

In the car, she said something that brought back memories for me and made me smile:

"When we get home, I wanna go in my room and read them ALL right away."

It made me wonder, is there something really special about children's and young adult literature, or is it the the mind of the young reader that makes this special literary exuberance possible? Sure, I still love to read. But it's rare that I anticipate an afternoon of reading the way I did as a kid. (Then again, when on earth do I get the CHANCE to spend the afternoon reading?)

Maybe I should try to write a young adult novel. I don't think I could ever attempt a picture book -- that kind of economy escapes me, and those stories are told so visually which also escapes me. But young adult literature -- that's the one type of book that has captivated me most in my lifetime. And when I think of really great young adult novels, like, say, Where the Red Fern Grows or The Pigman or even the Judy Blumebooks, I could read them again and again. In fact I have.

At any rate, I'm looking forward to reading Nutmeg some of these Junie B. books too. They're very fun. And oh, has the author, Barbara Park, hit upon a winning formula!