This is becoming the obituary-a-thon.
A lot like George Michael–this one just came out of nowhere.
Of course, like everybody in the world and beyond, Star Wars has been a big part of my life–from being dazzled by the very first one to my son’s obsession with light sabers. I loved Princess Leia, although to be perfectly honest, I did not covet her solar system hair. I mean, I want to eat Cinnabons, not wear them at my ears.
But it wasn’t Carrie’s acting that made me a major fan, it was her writing and her honesty. Postcards from the Edge (book–film not so much) struck me as not only hysterically funny and poignant, but as wildly witty, honest and fresh. It inspired my writing to be more open and free.
Wishful Drinking too, another deep dive into personal matters of her madcap Hollywood upbringing was filled with pithy, quippy, positively laugh-out-loud tales (in book, one woman show and film form).
Equal to her talent as an author, Carrie’s openness about her mental illness (bi-polar disorder) and addiction was refreshing. She had no shame, and spoke about both often with wit and heart.
Sixty is young (I’m looking down the tunnel of that birthday myself) and this firecracker had more to say. I will really miss this brilliant, brave, cavalier woman. She was really something. What a loss. Thinking about her sense of humor, I’m sure she would blame her death on Trump.