Something Wonderful This Way Came

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We say farewell to a Great One today with the passing of Ray Bradbury.

Blessed with a rich and long life, he was an incredible gift to the child in us all.

I’m going to keep Mr. Bradbury and all the charming and chill provoking memories he imbedded deep within my adolescent heart in my thoughts for the rest of this day and especially this evening when I tuck myself into bed and recall all those nights reading under the covers (often with flashlights)…

Who can forget the palpable sense of foreboding while reading “Something Wicked This Way Comes”?

Though the piddly, pathetic excuse for a  ”carnival” that occasionally passed through our small town in British Columbia was, disappointingly, much less real than the one Bradbury had created in my mind, compare it I did; imagining far more sinister goings-on behind the mouldy tarps than reality delivered

 ( probably just a few guys in sweat stained “Deep Purple” t-shirts and Harrachi sandals passing a filthy joint)

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Or the unimaginable horror of living in a world where all books had to be burned,

sacrificed to a television addicted society

(Hey, wait a minute…)

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That “Science Fiction” wasn’t just for boys…

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and a body covered with spine-tingling stories kept me preoccupied for days…

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or perhaps my favourite, which I think I’ll run out and get a copy of today;

The quiet, soothing imagery of Bradbury’s own small town recollections; ink black skies punctuated with fireflies and  porch swings swaying with the invisible hand of a hot and eery wind…

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For me, a voracious adolescent reader and an avid fan of “horror” in particular, Bradbury was like the genius love child of Edgar Allan Poe and Harpur Lee.

Simply wonderful.

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“Dandelion wine. The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stoppered.”

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RIP Mr. Bradbury.

1920-2012

Thanks for the memories.

There is now one more amazing story coming to life upon the skin of The Illustrated Man.

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Ladies Who Lit

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Slim Paley photo of a painting in my home

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Not going to make up any stories here.

 I had a fitful sleep, a long day and logged over 13,000 steps on my pedometer today (yay!)

… followed by an longer evening meeting and a generous martini.

So, I’ll share some stories instead by revisiting a post from November, 2009 because;

1) I had very few readers back then and, quite frankly, these women writers deserve to be lauded again and again.

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2) As the gift giving season is in full swing, one can always use a good list of great books!

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I’ll be back on the 1st with a slightly new format for the entire month of December-

So please stayed tuned and keep reading!

xox

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Please click here; The Reader

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The Reader

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A painting in my home.  She occasionally moves around…but she’s never without a book.

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Ten Books I Never Hesitate to Recommend, All Written by Women

In absolutely no particular order of wonderfulness;

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Songs in Ordinary Time Mary McGarry Morris

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Fall On Your Knees Anne Marie McDonald

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The Poisonwood Bible Barbara Kingsolver

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Hannah’s Daughters Marianne Frederikson

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The Binding Chair Katherine Harrison

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Love In a Cold Climate Nancy Mitford

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The Greengage Summer Rumer Godden

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Madness of a Seduced Woman Susan Fromberg Schaeffer

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Weeds Edith Summers Kelly

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Indian Embers Lady Rosamunde Lawrence

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The Condition Jennifer Haigh

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One Last Look Susanna Moore…

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and pretty much anything by Dawn Powell but perhaps start with

My Home is Far Away


That was more than ten wasn’t it?

  I welcome readers to weigh in with their own comments or suggestions.

I am not discriminating against the weaker sex, I just felt like showcasing women writers today.

And I love my painting of the little Edwardian girl reading.

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