Image by Alan Light, via WikiÂmeÂdia ComÂmons
It sounds like a third grade math probÂlem: “If Ray BradÂbury wrote the first draft of FahrenÂheit 451 (1953) on a coin-operÂatÂed typeÂwriter that charged 10 cents for every 30 minÂutes, and he spent a total of $9.80, how many hours did it take Ray to write his stoÂry?” (If you’re doing the math, that’s great, but you might be in the wrong class.)
Bradbury’s comÂpoÂsiÂtion of FahrenÂheit 451 demonÂstrates two of the proÂlifÂic writer’s most insisÂtent demands among his many pracÂtiÂcal nuggets of writÂing advice: 1. Always write, all the time; a short stoÂry a week, as he told a writer’s symÂpoÂsium in 2001. And, as he told the same group, 2. “Live in the library! Live in the library, for Christ’s sake. Don’t live on your godÂdamn comÂputÂer and the interÂnet and all that crap.”
GrantÂed, the library—and the school, and the office, and all the rest of it—now lives in the “godÂdamn comÂputÂer” for many of us. But Bradbury’s elabÂoÂraÂtion of why he endÂed up in the library in the earÂly 1950s, specifÂiÂcalÂly the baseÂment of UCLA’s PowÂell Library, will be relatÂable to any workÂing parÂent. As he wrote in 1982, he found himÂself “twice driÂven; by chilÂdren to leave at home, and by a typeÂwriter timÂing device…. Time was indeed monÂey.”
This was a difÂferÂent time, so you’ll need to adjust the curÂrenÂcy for 21st cenÂtuÂry inflaÂtion. Also, BradÂbury had the 50s’ writer-husband’s preÂrogÂaÂtive to beg off the childÂcare. As he explains:
In all the years from 1941 to that time, I had done most of my typÂing in the famÂiÂly garages… behind the tract house where my wife, MarÂguerite, and I raised our famÂiÂly. I was driÂven out of the garage by my lovÂing chilÂdren, who insistÂed on comÂing around to the winÂdow and singing and tapÂping on the panes.
DevotÂed father BradÂbury “had to choose between finÂishÂing a stoÂry or playÂing with the girls. I chose to play, of course, which endanÂgered the famÂiÂly income. An office had to be found. We couldn’t afford one.” BradÂbury did not write all of FahrenÂheit 451 in the library baseÂment. “He endÂed up with the novelÂla verÂsion,” notes UCLA MagÂaÂzine, “origÂiÂnalÂly called The FireÂman and did not come back to it until a pubÂlishÂing comÂpaÂny asked if he could add more to the stoÂry.”
The speed at which BradÂbury wrote, both to save monÂey and to get home to his chilÂdren, did not cause him to get careÂless. He looked back on the book 22 years latÂer with pride. “I have changed not one thought or word,” wrote BradÂbury in his introÂducÂtion. He didÂn’t notice until latÂer that he had named main charÂacÂters after a paper comÂpaÂny, MonÂtag, and penÂcil comÂpaÂny, Faber.
BradÂbury told the magÂaÂzine in 2002, “It was a pasÂsionÂate and excitÂing time for me. ImagÂine what it was like to be writÂing a book about book burnÂing and doing it in a library where the pasÂsions of all those authors, livÂing and dead, surÂroundÂed me.” When it came to findÂing the book’s title, howÂevÂer, supÂposÂedÂly the temÂperÂaÂture at which books burn, not only did the library fail him, but so too did the university’s chemÂistry departÂment. To learn the answer, and finÂish the book, BradÂbury finalÂly had to call the fire departÂment.
RelatÂed ConÂtent:
Ray BradÂbury Gives 12 Pieces of WritÂing Advice to Young Authors (2001)
Josh Jones is a writer and musiÂcian based in Durham, NC. FolÂlow him at @jdmagness.
That book, and othÂers, like “1984”, etc. would not be pubÂlished today. Any stoÂry that chalÂlenges The NarÂraÂtive, is not “woke” or presents a PolitÂiÂcalÂly IncorÂrect uncomÂfortÂable truth about sociÂety, is toxÂic and radioacÂtive to most pubÂlishÂing-housÂes. Any manÂuÂscript that may be “trigÂgerÂing”, is likeÂly to end-up in the cirÂcuÂlar-file, and it’s a shame. The best books are the ones that make you uncomÂfortÂable, and chalÂlenges your own perÂsonÂal-beliefs, as R.B. was able to do!