Sonora Review is saddened and shocked by the recent news of former fiction editor David Foster Wallace's death. For a long time, we have read him, admired him, loved him and wished to let him know as much. We had been planning a feature in our upcoming issue (56, Spring 2009) including reprinting "Solomon Silverfish", which he published in 1987, just after he left the journal. The truth behind this feature was, yes, to celebrate his work, and, yes, to be able (in some small, insignificant way) to say thanks to him for the work he's given us–not just the journal, but those of us who have read him and followed him here on purpose–but also we wished to show him how much he meant to us, to give him a feature like a fan letter, like an embrace, like a note that we, Sonora Review and each of us, would never forget him, would read and reread his work and would continue to admire, envy and celebrate every divine and apposite word. That we can not tell him this breaks our hearts. The loss we–the journal and all of us who work with it–have suffered is at once deeply personal and broad. The loss to the literary world is huge; the loss of the man is immeasurable. We thank you, DFW. We miss you and will miss you more still. We love you and don't yet know what all has been lost. We will never know.