Charles Beaumont (January 2, 1929 – February 21, 1967) was a prolific American author of speculative fiction, including short stories in the horror and science fiction subgenres. He is remembered as a writer of classic Twilight Zone episodes, such as “The Howling Man,” “Miniature,” and “Printer’s Devil,” but also penned the screenplays for several films, among them 7 Faces of Dr. Lao, The Intruder and The Masque of the Red Death. As best-selling novelist Dean R. Koontz has said, “[Charles Beaumont was] one of the seminal influences on writers of the fantastic and macabre.” Beaumont is also the subject of a documentary, Charles Beaumont: The Life of Twilight Zone’s Magic Man, by Jason V Brock.

Illness and death

When Beaumont was 34 and overwhelmed by numerous writing commitments, he began to suffer the effects of what has been called “a mysterious brain disease.” He began to age rapidly. His speech slowed and his ability to concentrate diminished.

“He was rarely well,” his friend and colleague William F. Nolan (who went on to co-write the science fiction novel Logan’s Run) would later recall. “He was almost always thin, and with a headache. He used Bromo-Seltzer like most people use water. He had a big Bromo bottle with him all the time.” Other symptoms were of the professional as well as physical persuasion, Nolan went on: “He could barely sell stories, much less write. He would go unshaven to meetings with producers, which would end in disaster. You’ve got to be able to think on your feet [as a script writer], which Chuck couldn’t do anymore; and so the producers would just go, ‘We’re sorry, Mr. Beaumont, but we don’t like the script.'”

Some (including friend and early agent Forrest J Ackerman) have asserted that Beaumont suffered simultaneously from Alzheimer’s and Pick’s diseases, but it has also been speculated that the condition was related to the spinal meningitis he suffered as a child. The former diagnosis was echoed by the UCLA Medical Staff, who subjected Beaumont to a battery of tests in the mid-1960s. As recalled by Nolan, the UCLA doctors sent Beaumont home with a death sentence: “There’s absolutely no treatment for this disease. It’s permanent and it’s terminal. He’ll probably live from six months to three years with it. He’ll decline and get to where he can’t stand up. He won’t feel any pain. In fact, he won’t even know this is happening.” Nolan himself sums up what happened: “Like his character ‘Walter Jameson,’ Chuck just dusted away.”

Several fellow writers, including Nolan and friend Jerry Sohl, began ghostwriting for Beaumont in his final years, so that he could meet his many writing obligations. Privately, he insisted on splitting these fees.

Charles Beaumont died in Woodland Hills, California at the age of 38. But at that time, said his son Christopher later, “he looked ninety-five and was, in fact, ninety-five by every calendar except the one on your watch.” Beaumont’s last residence was in nearby Valley Village, California. He left behind his devoted wife Helen, and two sons and two daughters. One son died in 2004 of eerily similar circumstances. The other, Christopher, is a successful writer in his own right.

Charles Beaumont is buried at San Fernando Mission Cemetery.

Nolan on
Bradbury

William
F. Nolan; edited by S.T. Joshi

Hippocampus
Press, 2013

Nolan
on Bradbury
is a fascinating exploration into two stellar figures in speculative fiction,
their relationship over sixty years, and the intellectual cross-fertilization
that can occur when such minds meet and share.

More than a personal account and less
than an academic study (in all of the right ways), the book allows readers a kind
of continuous insight into a friendship and a working exchange. Following
introductory materials by Jason V. Brock, S. T. Joshi, and Ray Bradbury himself
(writing about Nolan), the book opens onto a series of chronologically arranged
articles and essays—including introductions and afterwords to a number of books—in
which Nolan speaks about Bradbury, beginning with their first encounters and
Nolan’s responses to them (1952) and concluding with Nolan’s “My Personal
Evaluation of Ray’s Finest Stories” (2013). Joshi comments in his introduction
that there is a certain level of necessary redundancy in the accounts, and he
is correct; key episodes in their friendship recur frequently, often using the
same sentences and vocabulary. But that is as it should be. The repetitions
remind readers that they are following a six-decade long series of conclusions
on Nolan’s part; the details of Bradbury’s career and influence may—and must—shift
as the essays progress, but at core, the essence of Bradbury remains the same.
Each repetition is placed into a different context and thereby gains depth and
resonance, linking the disparate essays into a unified whole.

The second major section, “Stories,”
presents Nolan’s fictions that he defines as either about Bradbury or
influenced by Bradbury’s style and approach. They range from serious stories,
such as “And Miles to Go Before I Sleep” and “To Serve the Ship,” to
exquisitely modulated parodies and satires, such as the perfectly titled “The
Dandelion Chronicles”—a loving tribute to Bradbury that encompasses most of his
recurring themes as well as his signature style. Each is distinctly Nolan; none could have been written without his
having first met Ray Bradbury.

“Tributes to Ray Bradbury” and “Afterword:
The Return of Ray B.” round off the volume by giving space to Nolan, Brock,
John C. Tibbetts, Joshi, and Greg Bear to speak personally and, as it were,
conclusively about Bradbury and his influence. Each offers more insight into a
complex, multi-faceted, tremendously influential genius. Each is much
appreciated.

The final part is a short but useful
bibliography of major works, collections, stories, and other writings by both
Nolan and Bradbury. It is an appropriate capstone to this involving study of
writing, writers, friends, and friendships.