June is October Country

Ray Bradbury died today. He lived to be 91, and from all accounts, was feisty and prolific up until the end.

I’m sure the internet will have no lack of obituaries, profiles, and homages to Ray today, but I can’t let the day go by without adding my own.

I have been inspired by many writers to take up the pen, but none more so than Bradbury. I had the good fortune to meet him several times, though I can’t say I ever knew him. Except maybe I did, through his tales and fables about Mars, Ireland, Mexico, and the shadows of Waukegan Illinois.

The first book signing I ever attended when I moved out to California was one of Ray’s, at Vroman’s Bookstore in Pasadena.

I was sure I wanted to write at that point, but I had no idea how to get started. I’d been scribbling out half-finished stories for years but lacked the confidence to complete them, let alone send them out. Zen and the Art of Writing had been my bible for years, though, and Ray’s work hard/have fun philosophy resonated with me like no other advice ever had.

I don’t even remember what new book Ray was there to promote but I approached him with my dog-eared, paperback copy of Zen, and in a small voice I said something like “I write, too, Mr. Bradbury.”

He smiled warmly as he signed my book and said, “Great! Don’t ever stop!” (Everything he said, he said with exclamation points. I always loved that about him.)

His is simple advice, and persistence is one of the most common refrains in any writing blog or book. But to me, that moment was as transformative as the one in Bradbury’s life where Mr. Electrico told a young Ray to “Live Forever.”

I wish you could have, Mr. Bradbury. I wish I had a chance to tell you once more what an influence you have been, and how my own small successes have been so inspired by you. “Thank you,” can never quite suffice, but it’s all I know how to say.

I’ve taken your words to heart: I’ve got great momentum going and I don’t plan to stop, not ever.

Not until I reach the October Country.