I remember writer Ray Bradbury’s past television series, The Ray Bradbury Theater, in which, at the beginning of each episode, Mr. Bradbury ascends to his studio in a rickety elevator, unlocks a door, and steps into his mysterious writing chamber. The room is filled with curiosities of all sorts; knickknack items crowd every square inch of shelf space and windowsills. While the TV show’s credit music dies down, Mr. Bradbury peers around the room through his thick glasses while he tells us he’s waiting for inspiration. That broken clock over there or that odd piece of jigsaw puzzle here; or perhaps the cracked African voodoo mask in the corner sitting next to a mirror in whose reflection dangles a Cupie Doll hanging from the ceiling. He feels a story in that one, he tells us. A story waiting to be written if he but listens.
Well, I’m listening right now, searching for a thread of inspiration or direction, but all I hear is my computer’s cooling fan and a strange thumping outside my window. I get up from my chair and press my face against the glass. A shadow brushes the window pane one-eighth of an inch from my eyes. A dark hand thrusts through the dirty glass, grabs me, pulls me through the tiny window without my body even breaking it. Cold air fills up my lungs and – – shivering in an unexplainable chill and surrounded by a musky odor like damp wolf hair – – I am whisked effortlessly up into a treetop. From there I see a light shining from my bedroom-office window. Is that me looking through it?
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Ray Bradbury passed away in 2012. He was not only one of my favorite writers but an inspirational figure to thousands of young writers everywhere. I am grateful he left behind such a rich legacy for us to enjoy for centuries to come.
I’ve been missing you but I’ve been really busy with family for months and just realized I’m not getting much mail from you. Are you still writing them or has your email address somehow been dropped from my account? I hope you’re OK ’cause I really enjoy and look forward to your posts. Take care.
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Hey, Nancy. If things go as planned, I’m thinking about kick starting my brain and begin posting again. You have been with me from the very start so many, many years ago.
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Here we go… YES! would love to read your posts again! Hope all is well with you.
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Yes, Please!!!!!!
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Love the imagery in your post!
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I loved Bradbury’s work, too. In fact, it’s been in the back of my mind for months that I should re-read Dandelion Wine. Maybe I’ll get to the library to check it out later this week.
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Ray Bradbury’s short stories are amazing, too. “The Sound of Summer Running” is one of them.
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Nice….. He was loved by LOTS of us, Tim. I’d nearly forgotten….thanks for the reminder.
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I have spent many, many hours with Mr. Bradbury. I still enjoy re-reading his work.
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Glad to see you’re still with us.
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Thanks, Sally.
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I always look forward to hearing from you. Wish you would write more often.
A very scary post.
jodie
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Hi, Jodie, long timer. 🙂 I will attempt to write more often. I promise.
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He was indeed wonderful! I’m sorry he’s gone, but very glad that he lived and shared with us.
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He was (and still is!) an inspiration.
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