In Memory of Ray Bradbury

WE ARE THE MIRACLE OF FORCE AND MATTER MAKING ITSELF OVER INTO IMAGINATION AND WILL. INCREDIBLE. THE LIFE FORCE EXPERIMENTING WITH FORMS. YOU FOR ONE. ME FOR ANOTHER. THE UNIVERSE HAS SHOUTED ITSELF ALIVE. WE ARE ONE OF THE SHOUTS. - Ray Bradbury

So I'm putting my books in a stack and wondering when I'll stop feeling so sad about the passing of Ray Bradbury. I never met the man, although to all accounts he was a very classy fellow, but I guess I feel as though I knew him.

He was the first author who spoke directly to me. Never had I read such eloquent and captivating phrasing, and never had I felt so deep a connection to the way a writer thought. To me, Ray Bradbury described the secret melancholy and ethereal magic of childhood: he brought the crackle and burn of wild things I'd never know, and put them into my hands: he took me to other planets, and sometimes he left me there.

I'm re-reading 'Something Wicked This Way Comes', for about the one hundredth time, and reminding myself to savour the words, to be grateful for the inspiration.

World Fantasy Convention III 1977. Thanks to Neatorama for the image.