I’m not sure at what stage I decided that David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest was the seminal text for proof of literary-ness, the ultimate not-so-humble brag. According to my Goodreads, Infinite Jest has been bouncing around my TBR since 2015 (although I feel like this white whale has been eluding me for longer than that),…… Continue reading Infinite Jest, Infinite Summer, Infinite Day-dream?