If there was ever a bigger pansy than my father, it was Marcel Proust.
And partly, the worst thing you could do in my family was need something from someone. So physical strength represented an avenue of self-sufficiency to me.
Who embalms the Undertaker when he dies?
It was not a triumphal return. Home, as I had known it, was gone.
For some reason writing and drawing are very separate processes for me.
I'd been upstaged, demoted from protagonist in my own drama to comic relief in my parents' tragedy