I started writing this back in 2001. A friend of mine's father had died, and when I went to the wake she and her sister were screaming.
That image in my head was all I could think about for the remainder of the summer. I wrote a few chapters to this story and it was too painful so I just gave up. Around the beginning of 2k2 I picked it up again and I started writing... and writing and writing. The day this kid at my school died I was writing Taylor's eulogy in class. I don't know why I remember that, but I had written "A Double Dose Of Sunshine" at the top with purple ink with a sun wearing sun glasses. By the end of 2002 I had nearly 40 chapters written in a little blue notebook. I got a lot off of my chest in the process.
I will be constantly unhappy with this story. I rewrote the first three chapters three or four times, and then some more AFTER I had posted the story. I promised myself one more read&edit before I posted the epilogue and then I won't touch it anymore. It's sacred now. Old news. Who I was when I was Fifteen going on Sixteen. Ten years down the line maybe it won't seem so bad... the hours I spent making timelines and looking up information about drug addiction, child development, mental illness... Rehashing and wondering "Does this make sense? Does this sequence of events fit in the correct timeframe? Is this story moving too fast, or too slow?" You really think you know about something, but once you start writing it... you realize you know nothing at all.
Annissa, Alex, Theo, and Taylor occupied a greater portion of my mind for a good chunk of time. I got to know them through writing and writing about them until I just couldn't place them and write about them anymore. I know them all too well now. I thank them for their presence, I couldn't have done it without my small french suicide girl.
I have everyone to thank. First of all I'd like to thank Shannon for always reading what I wrote and telling me what you thought for so long... and Meg for being my biggest fan. I'd like to thank Brooke and Carla and Jen for all being wonderful hostees for this story (and my hanson site!) ... really, thanks a lot.
I'd also like to put a side note in for every artist on the soundtrack, mentioned in the story, and beyond. Thanks to them for inspiring me and letting me illegally use their words. With credit, of course.
I dedicate this story to those who have pulled themselves up when you thought you would never stop falling. Only then can one recognize how precious life really is. Only then can you appreciate what it is to be alive.
To all the artists, musicians, writers, dreamers. Never let go of a dream, and never forget what you simply need - don't focus on your wants and other material sludge. Be alive, be available, and change this world with your words, with your movement, with your ideas. No one is stopping you. Never leave it up to somebody, because you are somebody. Never walk away from the sunset, and always stand in high places to see the bigger picture.
Thanks a million.
Toona
All those years
I was hurting to feel
Something more than life
-Silverchair; "After All These Years"