Tuesday, April 29 from 3:30 to 5:30 p.m. at the Public Library in Eastsound. Sorry, Registration closed.
— by Margie Doyle —
Legendary writer and private Orcas Island resident Richard Bach hopes to meet with islanders and share his interests in writing, a writing career, publishing, passion and perserverence.
Bach, who was injured in 2012 in “a little plane accident,” as he describes it, is motivated to “go public,” following the advice of his early and long-standing literary hero, Ray Bradbury.
Learning to write:
Bach had what he describes as “one horrible year in college — it was the first failure in my life.” He’d thought perhaps he was suited to marine biology, but realized in a dissection of grunions lab in ichthyology class that “It wasn’t for me; I wouldn’t do it.”
Instead he pursued his early passions: aviation and aircraft. He was first rejected by the Navy, but eventually passed the test to qualify in the Air Force National Guard. While in the Air Force, he flew T-24s, T-28s and T-33s (the first jet-engine airplanes). But he left the Air Force when faced with the prospect of flying two-man F-4s, knowing that “someone else would live or die depending on how well we flew.”
He’s been flying little airplanes ever since, and “trying a little writing” in between jobs he “could never keep” due to boredom. His writing often met with rejection, and his “magic bullet” to handling rejection is “usually perseverence. At some point, someone will say, ‘I’ll do it’.”
That was certainly his experience: “Writing was a raft that would sink, but gradually it sank more and more slowly,” he says. Then, in the same mail delivery where MacMillan rejected Jonathan Livingston Seagull (or “The Talking Seagull” as Bach will say), an editor who’d been interested in Bach’s short stories asked if he had anything new to show her.
That was 45 years ago, and, as of 2004, Jonathan Livingston Seagull had sold 50 million copies internationally and been translated into 50 languages.
He speaks of the trajectory sales of “The Talking Seagull.” The first printing (1970) was 5,000 copies, then 25, 50, and 100 thousand copies. Finally, he brokered a deal with his publisher that, if they printed 300,000 copies, he would buy back anything that didn’t sell. The book’s sales overtook the previous hardcover record-holder, Gone With the Wind by 1972.
Now he recalls a message Ray Bradbury sent him long ago. Bach had sent out his first manuscript, and at the same time, composed a letter to Bradbury, thanking him for the inspiration and motivation Bradbury had provided him as he struggled to write. Two weeks after Bach sent his letter, Bradbury replied in a two-page, single-spaced letter.
In it, Bradbury told Bach, “You’ll never be able to thank me. The only way is for you to give of your experience to new writers.”
Bach again refers to Bradbury, recalling that he advised authors, “You have to love what you write, and if you do, and let the word get out… just get it out and there’s a kind of guardian spirit for your books and they will touch others. You just need to change a few readers.”
Bach adds, “A lot of Ray’s thinking worked for me. Now, since my little crash, I realize I need to give more.”
Life on Orcas
He came to Orcas Island 30 years ago, during a difficult time, and now says, “This is home for as long as I live. People here have been so good to me, have let me be quiet and write.”
On Aug. 31, 2012, Bach was piloting a single-engine plane when the aircraft clipped power lines about three miles west of Friday Harbor Airport and flipped. Bach suffered brain, chest and spine injuries. He was flown by an Airlift Northwest helicopter to Harborview Medical Center in Seattle. He remained in a coma for more than a week, according to Harborview physicians and his family. (He has helped create a foundation, the Gift of Wings, to assist the Harborview critical-care program and Airlift Northwest. Donations may be made online at www.supportuwmedicine.org/wings
Now, back on Orcas Island, he continues to write and hopes to share his experiences with other aspiring writers. And so he has set up the workshop at the Public Library, with the assistance of Michell Marshall. “Maybe one person who will come and one thing I will say will mean something that will start a career for them; something good will happen.”
Changes in publishing
When Bach’s publishing career took off with Jonathan Livingston Seagull, publishing took place in old-fashioned walnut paneled offices where the publishers hoped authors would stay associated with them throughout their careers and, maybe, “make some money.”
With 22 published books, and well-established at Scribner’s, Bach recently ventured into e-publishing, again crediting the “crash and all the things that came from it.” He’s amazed at the relative speed with which publishing on the Internet takes place.
Before, publishers were “king of the rock” but now it’s changed. Amazon has changed everything, it’s a hugely powerful publishing entity.” Writers now need to be their own marketers, ad agencies and publicists.
He speaks with bemused self-deprecation of his success:”A writer is someone waiting on the sidewalk for someone to give them a sandwich.”
And he gives Ray Bradbury the last word, of course. “His advice was simple: ‘Stay with your writing, and you’ll see real quality develop.’ Bach says, “I looked at Bradbury’s first story published and he was telling the truth! It was awful!”
Share more stories from Richard Bach on Tuesday, April 29 at the Orcas Island Public Library at 3:30 p.m. Call 376-4985 to reserve attendance.
**If you are reading theOrcasonian for free, thank your fellow islanders. If you would like to support theOrcasonian CLICK HERE to set your modestly-priced, voluntary subscription. Otherwise, no worries; we’re happy to share with you.**
My ex-husband, Walter Meade, publisher of Avon Books, published Jonathan Livingston Seagull in paperback. When he brought me an advance copy, I read it in one sitting. Now I look forward to meeting the author on Orcas.
Years ago, the summer when Jonathan Livingston Seagull first came out, I was so entranced by it that I designed and stitched a needlepoint with my conception of JLS. It now rests on a small bench, which I’ll bring to show Richard Bach at the meeting. Amazing talking birds, both RB and JLS!
I tried to sign up but registration is closed… I sincerely hope that Mr. Bach changes his mind and allows a waiting list, because this is Orcas – people sign up for things and no-show all the time.. And that really sucks for people who find out a little late and miss a spot!!!
I was hoping for a wait list, as well. I read Bach’s Illusions during a time of significant personal change in 2002, and it opened my heart to a creativity I was saving for “some day.” I’ve had some unique experiences in small aircraft as a young girl, but even more experience with a life time of flying in my night dreams – without the aid of wings!
Feel a nudge to attend, in case there is some practical wisdom for surrendering to the writing life I’ve always intended – but couldn’t pull off as a single parent of four and a local, small business owner. I’ve got commitment and creative clarity. And the will to assign the time. No savings or retirement to support a modest living while writing – but if I had a dollar for every time someone said I should write my life’s story – that could get me through my first book :-)
How does a person make a comeback when he or she hasn’t been in the running for the public to notice? Dozens of journals to draw from. A few published articles, letters, and poems to my credit. A M.Ed. in Educational Leadership. One chapbook. Three blogs. I’m a writer by nature, not a competitor for attention, so self-promotion always feels weird. Writing is how I make sense of things, how I anticipate or call in experiences, and how I reach out for connection. It allows me to practice reframing experiences until something precious and sometimes wise, emerges. It is also the gift of time – time that eventually becomes shared when others read my work. When something I’ve said makes someone else say yes, to life, in a new way, that is when I know I’ve spent my time wisely.