Grandmother Parr entertained me when I was little with stories about her grandmother, Annie Kincaid. Their family migrated from Tennessee to Texas in the 1800s in covered wagons. They experienced hardships, adventures, and encounters with (what she called) "Indians."
My favorite story was the one where Annie's mother saved the kids from curious Natives by hiding the little ones in the grandfather clock and tucking a sleeping infant inside the mattress. That day, the neighbor's girl was kidnapped and presumed dead. Many years later, she reappeared—only to tell them she was marrying the chief's son. She'd fully assimilated and only wanted to see them one more time before she went back to her tribe.
I wish I knew that story! Taylor Sheridan would have a field day with it.
Sketches I did of my dad during his last few months
My grandmother eventually wrote everything down and printed books for the family. It included a few sketches here and there, but it would have been so much better with full-on illustrations. It wouldn't have been a stretch for her. She painted plates and decorative things, she had a knack for it. Maybe it just never occurred to her.
Years later, when her son (my dad) was dying, I started to write and illustrate what was going on. I couldn't concentrate on much of anything else that summer. I had to sort things out. How did my dad go from being a tenured drama professor to living in his van? What did that mean about me/us/the world?
I'd never written a novel before, so I started drawing scenes. The art led to the writing. Next thing I knew, I'd written a book-length manuscript.
The whole process was cathartic. It gave me the ending I needed to a vast and confusing story. I titled it "Beyond the Skin."
As hard as it was to go through it, I'm grateful for that summer with my dad. It turned me into a writer.
And maybe, my Grandmother had something to do with it, too.
Artwork for a chapter heading in "Beyond the Skin," about my dad's early childhood. It incorporates a poem he wrote about that time, and photos, and the few toys and marbles he carried with him all the way to the end of his life.
Do you have a family narrative? Something funny, sad, interesting, important? Something you don't want to leave unsaid?
Wouldn't it be so much better if you illustrated it too?
Send me your idea. I love a good story!
And if you want to work with me on it, click here.
On the Easel
I just finished this charcoal drawing for a friend. This is her sweet old dog, Bear. The tension between careful curves and flyaway hair made me smile! It's something I wouldn't have noticed until I really paid attention to every little detail. Drawing video of Bear coming soon...
