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When I was 19 years old, both of my parents died in the same year; my mom of cancer and my dad in a car accident. Through the next two or three years and a series of bad decisions – all my own, I might add – I ended up literally homeless, before that was even a word. I even slept occasionally under a pier on the Gulf Coast.
It’s because the idea of what’s cool is different. When you talk to a girl who goes to regular school, what’s cool is whether or not you’ve been to jail, or if you have a car. If you talk to a girl who goes to art school, what’s cool to her is if you do art projects on the weekend with your dad, if you can build something – out-of-the-norm stuff.
My dad’s been having a hard time lately. Keeps on losing his keys. Can’t hang on to a set of keys to save his life. And he has tried everything too: little hook next to the door, little bowl next to his bed, keychain makes a noise when you whistle. Nothing worked. So finally, this year for his birthday, the whole family chipped in – and we put him in a home.
My dad and mom divorced when I was around ten, and I didn’t live with him after that, though he was close by and we saw each other weekly. I wasn’t really aware that he was a writer; I didn’t start reading his writing until I was about fifteen. It occurred to me then that my dad was kind of special; he’s still one of my favorite writers.
Since September it’s just gotten colder and colder. There’s less daylight now, I’ve noticed too. This can only mean one thing – the sun is going out. In a few more months the Earth will be a dark and lifeless ball of ice. Dad says the sun isn’t going out. He says its colder because the earth’s orbit is taking us farther from the sun. He says winter will be here soon. Isn’t it sad how some people’s grip on their lives is so precarious that they’ll embrace any preposterous delusion rather than face an occasional bleak truth?
God brought me to Himself at about the age of 4. My parents were devout believers and my Dad was in Bible College at the time. I remember hearing the gospel in Sunday School and I talked to my Mom about it one night before bed. It was clear to me that I was a sinner and I was not going to heaven if I died without accepting Jesus Christ and what He did on the cross for me. I was brought to Christ out of fear of going to hell. I didn’t want to go there if I died and there was only one other choice in my mind as a 4 year old. I wanted to go to heaven. It was and is that simple.
I got into comics about the same time as music. By 12 years old, I had discovered my dad’s killer comic book collection filled with Silver Age books from his youth…early Spider-Man, Thor, Fantastic Four, The Hulk, Detective Comics, Action Comics, you name it. Seeing those old books got me interested in new comics, so my friends and I would hit the local comic shop every Saturday to pick up the cool titles of my generation.
You can talk about things indirectly, but if you want to talk how people really talk, you have to talk R-rated. I mean I’ve got three incredibly intelligent daughters, but when you get mad, you get mad and you talk like people talk. When a normal 17-year-old girl storms out of the house or 15-year-old boy is mad at his mom or dad, they’re not talking the way people talk on TV. Unless it’s cable.
Before I was going to be an actress, I was going to be a veterinarian! I thought I was one as a child. I was the kid who was like, ‘Daddy! I want a kitty! It needs a mommy!’ And my dad was such a sucker. Every time I would beg, with tears flying down my face, about how this animal needs love, needs a home. He would cave.