RIP Mr. Bradbury
Ray Bradbury was my very favorite author when I was a teen. I devoured his books like candy, one after the other, over and over again. The first one I read was a chewed up paperback handed down from my older brother and sisters, that they had underlined and highlighted in English classes ahead of me. I was enchanted by that old-timey story of elm tree lined small town America. I was reminiscing about how much I loved that story with a friend of mine a week or so ago, and he asked what the Black folks did in that book. Um, nothing. No Black folks in that town. Huh.
But I did blog about it a couple years ago, when I included one of his phrases in a haiku
I wrote. And on my photo blog I was doing a series on water images in literature I love, and excerpted a paragraph from Dandelion Wine
. I love his writing so much!
Today I was talking with another librarian about how much of an influence Bradbury was in my life. She had almost that same story of how she had absorbed his books as a teen.
"What's that one about the kids with the room with huge TV walls, where they are in Africa and the parents get eaten by lions?" I asked. I still have vivid images in my mind of that story and I read it about 30 years ago.
"Me too!" She said. "I still think about that one frequently." What more of a tribute can one give an author? So many of the stories that appeared in The Illustrated Man
are embedded in my mind.
Here is Steven Colbert reading The Veldt by Ray Bradbury
: (read the text at the link)
Here is a list of his books
on his website. What is your favorite? Do you have any stories about how they have influenced your life? Please share!
the house wren's endless chatter
a second cup
This little guy wakes me up and keeps at it all day long. His nest is in the birdhouse on the porch. I know it's summer when I take my second cup of coffee on the porch with him.
The Friday Poetry Roundup is over at Carol's Corner. Enjoy!