Friday, June 08, 2012

Some links on the death of Ray B

Ray Bradbury (1920-2012)
"Death doesn't exist. It never did, it never will. But we've drawn so many pictures of it, so many years, trying to pin it down, comprehend it, we've got to thinking of it as an entity, strangely alive and greedy. All it is, however, is a stopped watch, a loss, an end, a darkness. Nothing."
— Ray Bradbury, from "Something Wicked This Way Comes" 

I am still processing the things I need to write about the death of Ray Bradbury. Whether anybody reads them or not. I believe he would understand that.

Meanwhile, please check these links, which say some of the things I am feeling or show some of the reasons I feel them:

Ray Bradbury's obituary.

My favorite living author, Neil Gaiman, reads aloud his story, "The Man Who Forgot Ray Bradbury." This made me cry, which one should not do at work.

A tumblr post with video embedded in which RB talks about the reasons to write -- and not to write.

Gaiman quotes Bradbury: "Looking back over a lifetime, you see that love was the answer to everything." 

An introduction to a Bradbury collection, written by Gaiman a couple of years ago. 

Take Me Home, an essay by Bradbury in The New Yorker, published June 4. 

"B is for Bradbury," the 6/29/2010 entry from this blog, in which I write about finding the book that cemented my love of writing (and reading), Bradbury's "S is for Space."

That's all I have for right now. I'll gather my emotions and thoughts and return before too long with more for the 10 or so people who sometimes read this. It's how I deal with things. I appreciate you "listening."



ImOnleeMe said...

I was driving home from work, and switched to NPR just as they said something along the lines of "A retrospective on Ray Bradbury." I thought to myself as I passed through the intersection of Beck and 98, "I don't remember him dying what are they talking about." a few minutes later, they were back, talking about how he'd passed away the night before. As I passed through Lisenby and 98, I was crying. Not enough to pull over, but enough to wipe me cheeks a couple of times. I thought about "Something Wicked This Way Comes," my favorite work of his.

And I thought about the guilt because I'd never managed to finish "Fahrenheit 451." I eventually arrived home, eyes dry, but heart heavy.

I take some solace knowing that he has inspired more storytellers to take up the mantle. You among them. Knowing that his stories will continue to be read, and new stories will continue to be written and enjoyed and inspire others, makes all the difference in the world.

Mark Boss said...

Bradbury's small book "Zen and the Art of Writing" was one of the first books I read about writing. It's a neat little work.