Like many, I was saddened to hear of
Ray Bradbury’s death yesterday. Yes, he was 91 years old, which is a pretty decent run, and inasmuch as I don’t know anything about his personal life, he seemed to have led a full one. He certainly wrote a lot of great books that touched countless readers, influenced a lot of writers, and represented science
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I think often of his story in The Martian Chronicles about school children destroying the remnants of the martian civilization just to see it fall, or his story about the empty house. I can still feel the heat of The Veldt. I don't know how he did it--and certainly far from every one of his stories was succesful. But nobody quite cut to the heart of an idea like Bradbury.
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But I had to comment because I found this:
I vividly recall one day in middle school discovering a waterlogged book in the stairwell, resting on top of a warm radiator. I was late for class and in a hurry, but I stopped anyway, because it was a free book.
To be utterly charming. What a touching way to begin a relationship with an author, too.
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