Blue Lines Blog – Ray Bradbury Dies at 91

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One of my favorite authors, and the author of a book I love, “Fahrenheit 451,” passes on. I was disappointed when the planned adaptation in the 90’s never came to fruition.

JOHN ROGERS, Associated Press
Updated 07:59 a.m., Wednesday, June 6, 2012

LOS ANGELES (AP) — Ray Bradbury, the science fiction-fantasy master who transformed his childhood dreams and Cold War fears into telepathic Martians, lovesick sea monsters, and, in uncanny detail, the high-tech, book-burning future of “Fahrenheit 451,” has died. He was 91.

He died Tuesday night, his daughter said Wednesday. Alexandra Bradbury did not have additional details.

Although slowed in recent years by a stroke that meant he had to use a wheelchair, Bradbury remained active into his 90s, turning out new novels, plays, screenplays and a volume of poetry. He wrote every day in the basement office of his home in the Cheviot Hills neighborhood of Los Angeles and appeared from time to time at bookstores, public library fundraisers and other literary events around Los Angeles.

“Libraries raised me. I don’t believe in colleges and universities. I believe in libraries because most students don’t have any money. When I graduated from high school, it was during the Depression and we had no money. I couldn’t go to college, so I went to the library three days a week for 10 years.”

His writings ranged from horror and mystery to humor and sympathetic stories about the Irish, blacks and Mexican-Americans. Bradbury also scripted John Huston’s 1956 film version of “Moby Dick” and wrote for “The Twilight Zone” and other television programs, including “The Ray Bradbury Theater,” for which he adapted dozens of his works.

The manuscript Blue Lines is the fictional coming of age narrative of a young California woman Key Yemaya Walker, and her 2 year growing journey through school, love, and life period piece, written by Kenneth Suffern, Jr., taking place at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill between the years of 1997 – 1998. Loosely based on true events, and experiences during that time, told through the eyes and voice of the main female protagonist, a freshman first attending the school.

30 Day Photo Challenge – Day 27 – Cool Quote

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The manuscript Blue Lines is the fictional coming of age narrative of a young California woman Key Yemaya Walker, and her 2 year growing journey through school, love, and life period piece, written by Kenneth Suffern, Jr., taking place at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill between the years of 1997 – 1998. Loosely based on true events, and experiences during that time, told through the eyes and voice of the main female protagonist, a freshman first attending the school.

Blue Lines Blog – V-Day Fiction (part 2)

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Blue Lines, Blue Lines Blog, Brooklyn, fiction, Key Yemaya Walker, Little Dragon, New York, Quotes, Starbucks, Twice, Valentine's Day

“…you ruined me, I don’t want to settle for anything else…”

Continuation of a V-Day Fiction Part 1 from 2/14/11.

I’m personally not that pleased with what the outcome was, but hey here we go.

“Cause I went looking for a trace of something that you left,” where the words that played over the speakers in the coffee shop, and my mind wandered. “Too much now,” was all my mind could muster…too much now. Tonya smiled as if I needed the silent acknowledgement. A soft breeze swept through, wafting her hair a bit as she made silly faces to interrupt my mood. I glanced at a woman older than myself who walked around the outside of the cafe and her eyes briefly caught mine. “Do we know each other,” I thought silently as I watched her enter and watched her dart around the tables and couches as if looking for someone she didn’t quite know.
“Blind date,” Tonya smiled as she observed me. A man that seemed to match the woman’s confusion entered the seating area and their eyes seemed to connect their confusion in concert.
“Yeah,” I broke a slight smirk, as we watched their awkward dance as they tried to find the right seat, bumbling to find the right words and sit in the right position.
“How was your weekend,” the woman uttered with a nervous toothy smile albeit Wednesday.
“Why is it,” I began while looking up from my computer, “that I can speak so freely with you. About anything, but when to people are starting to talk to each other, they can’t find the words to speak to each other?”
“I don’t know, maybe that means we’re supposed to be together,” she smiled and laughed as finished. “I don’t know, maybe as adults we’re still as uneasy and uncomfortable as we were as children.”
“Can it be that we’re trying to be everything in one moment that we end up being nothing in that moment?”
“I guess…and I used to notice that you tried to be everything yourself. You got better as you guys continued on, but in the beginning…hmm…”
I tugged at my striped grey, black, and blue adidas sweater and tried to take in the words. If I had been too much, what were we? I briefly pictured that face, and I lowered my head as my recently favorite barista came around and she asked whether we wanted a free refill.

Blue Lines Blog – V-Day Fiction (part 1)

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Blue Lines, Key Yemaya Walker, Keypsiia, Little Dragon, New York, Part 1, Quotes, Starbucks

I began this as a piece of practice fiction last Friday, based on quotes I had received scheduled for 2/14/11 release. However, I did not finish, and though inspired last night, did not last that long after a long weekend. Rather than give a half hearted “completed story,” this will serve as part 1.

                                    “…today means nothing unless you do it the other 364 days…”

 

Those words echoed in my head and prevented my return to sleep as I slowly woke up and stared at your old cool undisturbed pillow and sheets that lay on the other side of the bed and briefly imagined how you used to look as you slept.  You hair always seemed to seemed to lay perfectly as if you were part of a photo shoot, or maybe that was just what you were to me.  I remembered how you left without a trace…granted I knew that you were leaving, but there was nothing for me to remember you by.  I realized that all of the women I had loved, though I did not marginalize you as such, had no scent.  No cue that jogged memories of you out of the blue.  But those, those who did not belong in my life, those who I knew were fun, friends, mistakes, incompatible, they had the strongest scents.  But when I smelled the sweet aroma of her, I could always look at you and know I was in the presence of something greater.

            I slowly allowed myself to get up and mull about my bedroom, as the yellow sun burned away the Brooklyn night and permeated through the buildings, it found its way through the slats in the blinds.  The morning was nothing like the cool blue mornings in California as the windows faced the Pacific.