Bradbury: My First Mentor, by Nick Montelongo

Writers find mentors whenever they read or whenever they find someone to show them the ropes, obviously the latter is more likely. Ray Bradbury was my first as I imagine he was for many people.

I was fifteen and a freshman in high school. I had recently written a story for a class assignment and realized I liked doing it. Little did I know I wanted to become a writer. The class had finished reading Fahrenheit 451 and I was introduced to a possible world where no one read, owing to fact that society turned their backs on books, and the firemen came along to keep it that way. Bradbury repeatedly said that Fahrenheit wasn't about censorship and if it isn't then it must be about the surrender to ignorance. I was the only student, with the exception of my best friend who was the TA, who seemed to appreciate the book. Looking at YouTube comments on the audiobook hasn't changed my impression. Kids complain too much about reading assignments, particularly about having to read in general.

Near the end of the first semester of that year, the teacher announced that he would give extra credit to anyone who went to the local Borders to get a book signed by Bradbury himself. Bradbury! Of course I wanted to go, but as Christmas vacation drew closer, I caught the obligatory holiday cold and I couldn't go. My parents went in my place.

Come Christmas day (or eve), I opened a couple of presents and there were two books: Quicker Than the Eye and The Martian Chronicles, both signed by the master. In Martian Chronicles, he inscribed, "Nicholas! Good luck with your writing!" My parents could tell I was bitten by the creative bug and passed that tidbit onto him when they met. My first piece of encouragement from a professional.

Over the years, I've read a great deal of his work. The Illustrated Man, The October Country, Dandelion Wine, Dark Carnival, Something Wicked This Way Comes, Zen in the Art of Writing, and others. I followed as much of Bradbury's example and advice as I could in my limited capacity.

Back in 2004 or 2005, I went to the UCLA Festival of Books and had the singular experience of going to the auditorium to see Bradbury speak with Ray Harryhausen. It was great even if I didn't get to talk to him. Incidentally, I met William F. Nolan for the first time at the same event.

When I received news that Bradbury died back in 2012, I was heartbroken and I cried, which is something I don't do often for people I haven't met. Of course I met him vicariously. He was my mentor after all, the first of many. It was a world-shifting experience, like when you find out that Santa Claus isn't real; in my case I realized that Bradbury was mortal.To me what was almost as bad was the fact that I went to find newspaper articles about his death and couldn't find any. What the hell? One of the greatest and most influential writers of the 20th century doesn't rate front, second, or even fourteenth page news? You're never too old to be disillusioned.

This doesn't take away the fact that Ray Bradbury was a special person to countless people, even if they aren't the jackasses who couldn't care less if all the books in the world were burned. To hell with them. To anyone who can join me in praising Bradbury for inspiring them in the way he inspired me, then I urge you to take a moment and remember what he did for you.

Written by Nick Montelongo