Mr. Bradbury passed last evening.
Whenever I've attempted to write fiction, I've always thought of Bradbury's writing as a model. Though I'm no Bradbury, nor would I ever claim to be, I'd like to think every once in awhile his spirit filled just a couple of my sentences with some of his essence.
I've read him to my middle school students while they sat waiting for the next line on the edge of their seats. I've recommended the very thick, very daunting collection of short stories to 7th and 8th graders who came back thankful for the recommendation. I've watched the interviews and listened to him read. Few authors have had such an impact on so many.
One of the masters has moved on. We were blessed with his words and imagination.
Thank you, Mr. Bradbury. You will me missed.
Creating, teaching, drinking coffee.