Ray Bradbury Dies at 91

My good friend, Rev. Stu of Stupid Monkey Planet Church of Primatheism alerted me to the fact that Ray Bradbury has died. I was quite embarrassed because I'm pretty good at the dead/alive celebrity game, and I'd have sworn he'd previously left this mortal coil. Surely, I had confused him with one of his contemporaries, such as Isaac Asimov. I don't know. But I very much did enjoy Mr. Bradbury's works, including The Martian Chronicles and Fahrenheit 451. He was amazingly talented, and his works started my love affair with science fiction and dystopian future fiction. RIP, Mr. Bradbury.


[Excerpt]


Me and you and Ray Bradbury

In recent years, following his stroke, Ray Bradbury continued to write stories, which appeared in national publications, by talking to his daughter over the phone. He’d call her up, long distance, and, in essence, talk the story to her; she would transcribe it. He’d go over the result with her later. His hands no longer worked well enough to type, but he was still a storyteller. He said being a writer, telling stories, kept him alive—and he lived to be 91. . .

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