At the invitation of Disney publicist Howard Green I had a nice chat with Ray Bradbury on the Disney lot in…now I can’t remember. It was either during a visit to Los Angeles in late ’81 or after I’d moved to L.A. in the spring of ’83. The motive was to promote Something Wicked This Way Comes, for which Bradbury had written the screenplay, adapting it from his same-titled 1962 novel. We talked about the film a bit but we mainly just freestyled all over the place. I remember feeling irritated by Bradbury’s insistence that writing was a total joy, and that anyone who didn’t feel that joy shouldn’t write. Well, writing had been murder for me since I started writing reviews and whatnot in the late ’70s. Every piece I wrote took it out of me big-time so I really didn’t like hearing how fucking wonderful it was to put words to paper. Bradbury was right, of course, but I only started to feel happy about writing about 15 years ago, maybe a bit more. Before that it was like digging ditches.