Even Ray Bradbury felt the sting of rejection…
“…As I pored through those files one day, I came across some folders relating to our Einstein Planetarium, originally called the Spacearium. That’s where I found “The Ghosts of Forever: The Great Shout of the Universe!”—the first draft of the planetarium show Bradbury wrote for the Museum in 1981. With it were script reviewers’ comments.
“Many of the phrases are crude and devoid of meaning. Some of it flows nicely, then suddenly it changes and becomes awkward.”
“‘Suns that must birth themselves’ reeks with misunderstanding.”
“Present concepts do not suggest ‘worlds spun out of flame.’”
“Life cooking itself is a poor way of describing/summarizing evolution.”
And on and on and on. Four agonizingly detailed reviews. Four thumbs down.
Well, I thought, what did they expect? He’s Ray Bradbury not Arthur C. Clarke! He’s a visionary, a dreamer, a romantic, a poet. Yes, in a Bradbury cosmos, the big bang is “The Great Shout of the Universe!” It’s a place where “The Cosmic Nebulae turn on themselves, telling Time.” And “Andromeda spins by, wailing, mourning in the dark.” It’s a universe in which matter “must ghost itself to flesh.”
“The Ghosts of Forever” never saw starlight.
And Bradbury never forgot….”
My story, THE MAN WHO FORGOT RAY BRADBURY is posted right now at IO9
The Man Who Forgot Ray Bradbury
By Neil Gaiman
I am forgetting things, which scares me.
I am losing words, although I am not losing concepts. I hope that I am not losing concepts. If I am losing concepts, I am not aware of it. If I am losing concepts, how would I know?
Which is funny, because my memory was always so good. Everything was in there. Sometimes my memory was so good that I even thought I could remember things I didn’t know yet. Remembering forward …
I don’t think there’s a word for that, is there? Remembering things that haven’t happened yet. I don’t have that feeling I get when I go looking in my head for a word that isn’t there, as if someone must have come and taken it in the night.