J.D. Salinger

J.D. Salinger wrote one of the first books I read easily and more than once.
Catcher in the Rye
It had a cover with red color with yellow simple print. A smooth feeling book. That was important.
He used words I could understand easily. Short words, simple words, simple deeds by an average guy.
I still don't quite get the body catching a body coming through the rye thing, even though that is one point of the book. In fact we planted rye a few years ago on the garden as a weed inhibitor. That stuff is thick, deceptive in that it looks easy to walk through. It is not easy. So I thought he must be talking about rye fields like the fields of corn in Illinois. Endless and impossible to find someone in.
It never mattered much to me. I liked reading the book. I liked the story, his failure, his life of simple activities, like it could be me.
When I heard J.D.Salinger died and he lived near hear, and he was only 91 and he never wanted contact with people, I was sad, like when Kurt Vonnegut died.
I liked them both, their writing inspiring my own search for simple words that mean so much. Simple stories that say the most, Simple characters that makes us cry.
I would have written him had I known he was around here even if he burned all his letters or read them or just put them in a box. Let this be my letter to J.D. Salinger, a man who helped me read. Thanks for your words that have encouraged me to take up a pen even if it is for my pleasure alone or even mostly. I still remember how that book felt in my hands, how I felt turning pages faster than I ever had before, comprehending the feeling of a story above the grammar, the print, the numbers on the pages that used to hold me back. I was floating. And I thank you Mr. Salinger, though you will never know. Mary Gerdt, Monkton, Vermont 2010