You'd told me before that you'd wanted to get into DFW but couldn't. I don't know if, since we last talked, you've been able to, but I really think you should give The Pale King a chance. It's incomplete and you can tell where it's patched together, but DFW, with kudos to his editor, is one of the few to have created a fiction work of art that's not finished. Ironically enough, it feels that this book should be the beginning point for studying DFW.
I still remember that night we sat around my apartment table and drank beer and bemoaned the state of writers and artists dead too soon. Do you remember that night's big wind storm? Anyway, you're in another state now, and our lives have become different things and we won't likely have those times again. When I read this book, along with enjoying it, I felt pain that someone as gifted as DFW couldn't bear to live and was besieged by depression and I realized there wouldn't be anymore after this. He's being hailed as the most significant writer of his time. How cruel for us all.