Ray Bradbury — author of The Martian Chronicles, Fahrenheit 451, Something Wicked This Way Comes, and many more literary classics — died this morning in Los Angeles, at the age of 91.
We’ve got confirmation from the family as well as his biographer, Sam Weller.
His grandson, Danny Karapetian, shared these words with io9 about his grandfather’s passing: “If I had to make any statement, it would be how much I love and miss him, and I look forward to hearing everyone’s memories about him. He influenced so many artists, writers, teachers, scientists, and it’s always really touching and comforting to hear their stories. Your stories. His legacy lives on in his monumental body of books, film, television and theater, but more importantly, in the minds and hearts of anyone who read him, because to read him was to know him. He was the biggest kid I know.”
Well, sad in an immediate and emotional sense, but Ray Bradbury had a long, distinguished and successful career as an influential science fiction/fantasy writer.
He was one of the first sci-fi writers I discovered and I found his lyrical prose and unique leaps of fantasy to be a welcome counterpoint to the regular writers in the genre.
I never put Bradbury in my “top three” sci-fi writers (That was always Clarke, Asimov and Heinlein), but his unique voice was like a comfortable friend.
I will echo Glenn Reynolds at Instapundit. Everyone remembers his Martian work or Fahrenheit 451, but I will always remember Dandelion Wine.