I consider myself the foremost lurker on these boards. About seven years ago I registered here (I believe I was the second member to sign up), but I've not posted in what my grandfather would have called a coon's age.
I am 35 years old, and thanks in part to Mr. Bradbury, I am seeing the release of my third novel. Last summer I visited Hollywood and took a picture of his star. I owe him several stars myself.
About five years ago he replied to a letter I'd written him--the one and only piece of "fan mail" I've ever penned. He was beautifully inspiring, and said something about a lizard I shall never forget. When I finally visited the West Coast last year, I considered sitting on his doorstep until he let me in. ("Oh, it's just another long-haired writer; you might as well let him in, as he doesn't look like he owns a decent coat and he's likely to catch his death.") But I thought the last thing he needed was one more person pulling him away from his desk; the world sparkles a bit more with every story he produces.
This spring I'm not only enjoying the release of my mystery novel, but I'm also graduating with my master's degree in English. My thesis, with which I am currently locked in mortal combat, is entitled "The Aesthetic and Didactic in the Works of Ray Bradbury."
I am 35 years old. I've said that already. But it's important. Because exactly 20 years ago I found a book in my high school library, "Something Wicked This Way Comes." The prose within those covers is Bradbury at his best. Those words made me want to be a writer. I wanted to cast such spells. And still do.
So thanks, Mr. Bradbury. I owe you more than you know.
That's the one that really got me to do something, as well!
Nice to meet you, Mr. Hawvermale.
Hey, Lance! I remember those early days. Nice to have you back with us.
It was Golden Apples of the Sun for me. Today, I carry the message to my lit. classes with much pleasure and enjoyment - still.
|Powered by Social Strata|