SNYDERMANIA: ADVICE FROM RAY BRADBURY

Sunday, February 10, 2013

ADVICE FROM RAY BRADBURY

Ray Bradbury once said something about jumping off cliffs and making wings on the way down. Ray, wherever you are, I took your advice. I told the boss I will not be returning to Basha High School next year. My wings are books. THE EIGHT-FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON is available on Amazon.com and at THE BOOK FROG and THE SPIRIT GUIDE BAR is on track for release in March.

GERONIMO!!!

You can purchase a copy of THE EIGHT-FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON by clicking on this link.
http://www.amazon.com/The-Eight-Fingered-Criminals-William-Snyder/dp/1468142585

4 comments:

Anonymous said...: May your wings forever continue to flap.

Congrats and all the best!; February 10, 2013 at 2:19 PM
#167 Dad said...: Thank you, Wendy!; February 10, 2013 at 3:25 PM
Unknown said...: I saw a variant of Bradbury's advice, in, I believe, the book The Artist's Way: Jump and the net will appear. Good for you and follow your bliss.; February 10, 2013 at 5:49 PM
#167 Dad said...: Thanks, David. Ray Bradbury with a dash of Joseph Campbell. I can dig that...; February 11, 2013 at 5:11 PM

NORTHERN EXPOSURE

Goethe's final words: "More light." Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that's been our unifying cry: "More light." Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlight. Neon. Incandescent. Lights that banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier's field. Little tiny flashlight for those books we read under the covers when we're supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home- Lead Thou me on! Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light.

FIELD OF DREAMS

Well, you know I... I never got to bat in the major leagues. I would have liked to have had that chance. Just once. To stare down a big league pitcher. To stare him down, and just as he goes into his windup, wink. Make him think you know something he doesn't. That's what I wish for. Chance to squint at a sky so blue that it hurts your eyes just to look at it. To feel the tingling in your arm as you connect with the ball. To run the bases - stretch a double into a triple, and flop face-first into third, wrap your arms around the bag. That's my wish, Ray Kinsella. That's my wish. And is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true?