Where it started.
It was the day Carrie Fisher died.
I had been her assistant years earlier.
People I barely knew were messaging me about the news.
That night, I was crying in my bathtub and posted a note on Facebook.
Image Transcript: “Her nicknames for me were Byronius and Cock Ring. She once got a text alert from weather.com saying the northern lights were gonna be big... so that night I had to book flights and the next day we were there. When Gary had to pee on a plane she took him and a wee-wee pad into the lavatory and how they worked it out is one of life’s great mysteries. Most of my time with her involved me staring at her, wide-eyed and in blissful shock that one person could live a life so fully. We rode dog sleds in Canada, swam hot springs in Japan, pet koalas in Australia. That’s how she lived.
Extraordinary. Brilliant. Hilarious. And generous! Not every assistant job is like that. I was with her for nearly 3 years. Every moment is a treasure, inspiration. I love this woman and will forever. She has been a force in my life from the moment I met her. To this day I think of her constantly. Every memory with her is bursting with color. I feel so lucky, you guys! So! Lucky! But, you know her, too.
Because she was exactly the same in private as in public. Authentic. Honest. Real. A champion for mental health, veterans, feminism. She did anything for her family, loved her friends, embodied aliveness. I’ll miss her so, so much.”
Maybe I should write more.
My Facebook post went viral and the comments were overwhelming.
I wondered if I should write more about the job that helped me out of depression, had me laughing every day, and taught me so much about love, life, and friendship.
Carrie used to tell me, “Take your broken heart and go make art.”
So I did.
Coming up.
Here’s how I wrote my manuscript and found an agent.
Plus, things that actually helped along the way.
And how you can contact me and ask me your questions about publishing and creativity.
