Listen to the EchoesPeople often ask me what I have done with the hundreds of hours of interviews I did with Ray Bradbury over the course of the last decade. Certainly, I did not use all of the material in The Bradbury Chronicles. Not even close.

I am overjoyed to announce that my new book, Listen to the Echoes: The Ray Bradbury Interviews will be published by Melville House Publishers (in conjunction with Stop Smiling Books) next June. This book has been a complete labor of love and I am so proud of it. It should come in around 350 pages with almost 50 photos. The book is broken up into 13 sections, Bradbury opining on: Faith, Hollywood, Sexuality, Creativity, and other themes. Black Francis, founder and driving force behind the highly influential post-punk art band, the Pixies, wrote the Foreword of the book. Francis, under the moniker, Frank Black, released a solo album in 1996 called The Cult of Ray. The disk was a homage to Bradbury.

Listen to the Echoes is available for presale on Amazon. I'm eager for you to read it. There will be a slew of events surrounding the release. The launch party will be held at the wonderful Mystery and Imagination bookstore in Glendale, California on June 26. Ray Bradbury and I will talk about the book and sign copies. And there are other surprises in store. Stay tuned for details on the appearances page of this web site.

On another topic, I have been on the lecture circuit again in recent weeks and it has really got me to thinking about the current state of books and the millennial generation.

With iPods, iPhones, Xboxes and the Internet—not to mention old-school television and movies—kids today are inundated with a barrage of entertainment alternatives. As a college writing professor and author, I wonder: Where does reading fit into this increasingly pixilated picture?

In 2004, the National Endowment for the Arts released Reading at Risk, a comprehensive study of reading habits in America. The news was grim. It was a documentation of what then-chairman Dana Gioia deemed "a national crisis." The study concluded that literary reading had been in a dramatic tailspin for two decades. Less than half of all American adults read literature. And, no surprise, the steepest and most alarming rate of decline was with young readers—ages 18 to 24.

Too many distractions. Too much competition for the attention of modern youth. In the age of CGI there is little room for old-fashioned books.

Given the apparent sizeable populace from all generations who don't indulge regularly in the celebration of literature, the question may arise, "Why is reading so important, anyway?"

For starters, in an increasingly short attention span society, reading fosters focus. Readers pay attention for prolonged periods of time, an endangered attribute that can only benefit people both at home and at the workplace.

Secondly, reading emboldens the imagination. In my estimation, there isn't another art form that asks more of us. Reading allows the participant to act as the "director," setting up the camera angle, casting the characters, lighting the scene in one's mind, and so on. Contrary to the passive image of curling up in a chair with a book, reading is a gloriously active pursuit. It flexes the imagination muscle like no other art form. And of course, imaginative-based skills foster creative problem-solving abilities, another highly sought after trait in today's competitive job market.

This is why the abandonment of literature in recent years is cause for worry. If we as a country are to advance and grow as an intellectual force, to continue to lead the world in ideas and ingenuity, we cannot abandon books. We cannot become the society ominously envisioned by Ray Bradbury in his 1953 classic, Fahrenheit 451. As former NEA Chair Dana Gioia so eloquently articulated, "The decline in reading among every segment of the adult population reflects a general collapse in advanced literacy. To lose this human capacity—and all the diverse benefits it fosters—impoverishes both cultural and civic life."

In May 2006, the National Endowment for the Arts responded to this cultural exigency by launching "The Big Read," the largest federal reading program in United States history. While no single literary initiative could hope to reverse the alarming decline of reading in our country, the Big Read was a strategic move in the right direction. The Big Read built upon the concept of "One Book, One Community" reading programs already in place in communities across the nation.

Over the course of the next three years, municipalities in every state and nearly every Congressional district were awarded Big Read grants of up to $20,000 that were leveraged significantly by private sector dollars. Additionally, the National Endowment for the Arts supplied all the requisite supplemental materials—reader's and teacher's guides, as well as audio and visual components. Through unique, creative, and challenging programming conceived by the individual community participants, towns and cities across the nation celebrated classic literature. Some of the books highlighted by the National Endowment for the Arts for the Big Read program were To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, The Joy Luck Club and, more than fittingly, Fahrenheit 451.

And here's the good news: In 2008, four years after the release of the dire Reading at Risk, the NEA released a new report, Reading on the Rise. This gloriously hopeful study documented a clear and measurable increase in the number of American adults who read literature. Even better, the biggest increase was with young adults, ages 18-24.

So what happened? The Big Read was, without question, one of the contributors behind the turn-around in bad American reading habits. From my own point of view, having participated in dozens of Big Read events nationwide, the reading initiative, along with Oprah (yes, Oprah), as well as similar One Book, One Community reading programs, greatly reversed the cultural reading crisis that had previously vexed our nation for over twenty years.

Of course, there were other factors. J.K. Rowling enticing children to read 800-page wizard tomes was, in my estimation, arguably the greatest seismic influence. Think of it this way: The millions who read Harry Potter have since grown up and moved on to adult books (i.e, literature), including the works of one Ray Douglas Bradbury. After all, if you liked Harry Potter, how can you not like Something Wicked Way This Way Comes?

The point here is crystalline—whether it be Hogwarts Academy or the NEA's Big Read—all it takes is one book to turn a young person into a reader for life. If a young reader likes Twilight or graphic novels or a novelization of the latest blockbuster movie, bravo! The odds are good they will read more. And as they do this, their tastes and reading interests will grow and mature. And this is a lesson to all those who plan curricula and develop school reading lists. The hard truth is that many Millenials find reading literature to be a sizable bore. First we must get them to discover the joy of reading by allowing them to read what they want. Only then will they be intrigued to explore more difficult and challenging literary works. One ought not kick off with Beowolf and Antigone; one must work towards them.

Since the Big Read launched in 2006, I have participated in more than 50 events across the nation. From a picturesque beach in Juneau, Alaska, to the pulpit of a historic church in Savannah, Georgia, and many, many points in-between. As Ray Bradbury's authorized biographer, I welcome the opportunity to share my passion and knowledge of the man behind the masterpiece of Fahrenheit 451. I have worked intimately with Ray Bradbury for nearly a decade and I enjoy discussing this privileged relationship with audiences. I teach the only college-level class in America on the life and works of the author, and it is with immense enthusiasm that I share my scholarship with audiences in towns large and small; at libraries, at universities, and in civic forums.

While I often deliver the keynote address at Big Read festivals, one of the terrific and more challenging endeavors is speaking before an audience of high school readers. In Serling, Illinois, on a frigid and snowy day in March 2007, I spoke before a capacity auditorium of more than 700 students. In October 2007, at a high school outside of Baltimore, Maryland, I spoke to 150 completely engaged African-American kids who had read Fahrenheit 451 in their English classes.

I have visited high schools in Fayetteville, North Carolina; Reno, Nevada; Peoria, Illinois; and on and on.

Just a few months ago, I stood in the auditorium at the Canton, Illinois High School and spoke to a group of honors English students. Later that day, while doing an interview at the local radio station, I noticed an old black-and-white framed photograph hanging on the wall of the studio. The picture was of Jim Morrison and the Doors performing in September 1967 in Canton. Morrison stood, microphone in hand, performing in the very same spot where I delivered my own presentation, more than 40 years later. For certain, the Big Read has personally provided me with surreal and wonderful opportunities. Best of all, along the way, I have met some amazing folks—teachers and librarians and retirees and kids who all believe in the cultural imperative of reading.

This is not to say that every kid in every auditorium across the land has been enthralled by the notion of talking literature. Far from it. Even with the good news brought on by the Reading on the Rise report, there's still a long haul in front of us if we are to return our country to the stature of a true nation of readers. Truth be told, the demographic at most Big Read events has been Boomers and older. More often than not, I'm out preaching to the choir. These people grew up with books in the house. Reading was emphasized early on in their schools. Libraries were the anchors of their communities. It is now our collective responsibility to pass along our love of literature to a new generation—the distracted generation. We are the wilderness people at the end of Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, entrusted with the duty to hand literature off to the future.

And this is why at many Big Read events, if teenagers aren't coming out to community events, I come to them by visiting their classes and their auditoriums. To the credit of so many Big Read organizers, they recognize this is how to reliably bring Big Read books to Millenials.

Once I am before this young audience, one way I engage them is by communicating in a language they understand.

I begin by challenging them to read five Bradbury short stories that I am convinced they will adore. These stories deal with captivating subjects to young readers, such as dinosaurs, ghosts, and teen-aged girls who live on far-distant planets. This is one of the grand secrets of Bradbury: He writes for kids using the tools of the literary masters. He is, in my opinion, the perfect author for high school readers.

After I present these five shorts stories, I challenge high school audiences to contact me on MySpace or Twitter or through my web site. I ask them to write me and tell me what they thought, whether they loved or hated the stories, and, more importantly—why. I am absolutely certain that these quick, captivating, decidedly cinematic tales will grab them and entice them to read more.

And to a degree, it has worked. Reliably, after I have spoken before a school audience, I hear from a host of students who are often dumbfounded that they went to their library, read one of the short stories I suggested, and discovered that they actually loved it. The best thing I hear is "I'm going to read more Ray Bradbury!"

This is just a step, but like the Big Read, it is an assured step in the right direction. If a young reader becomes enraptured by one short story, there is a chance it may lead to a book. My hope is that young people from this digital era can then realize that the best CGI they've ever witnessed is right between two covers, projected in their mind's eye.

Best Wishes,
Sam Weller

Chicago, Illinois
March 2010

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