Excerpts of this book have appeared in Guernica, Black Warrior Review, Minola Review, and Go Home!, thanks to the generous and vigilant editors who have stood behind my story: Erin Loeb, Hillary Brenhouse, Kayleb Rae Candrilli, Robin Richardson, Jisu Kim, and Jyothi Natarajan. Deep thanks, as well, to the photographers who have allowed me to reprint the moments they’ve captured in these pages: Bob Lasky, Don Seidman, Sherrie Helms Kukulski, and Jac Martinez. Aurore DeCarlo and Team Carrie Goldberg—this book is full of bad guys, but you good ones give me hope. Thank you for your tremendous dedication to justice, to truth, and to my safety during the writing of these pages.
To Lynda Barry, Grace Paley, and Heather Lewis, whose work shook me alive and made room for the rest of us. Yours is the lake I most wish to feed.
To my ‘ohana, both near and across oceans: the Maddens, the T’s, the Hedges, the Schaefers, the LaFaves, the Beresfords, the Gonzalezes, the Kamakawiwo‘oles, and the Lindenmuths (especially Mary-Beth, for the deep ruts). To Jeanne Kam and Tammie Anthony, for staying on the phone until I got it right. To Sarah Kamakawiwo‘ole, for your joy and your islands and all the right words. To Nikki and Kaitlyn “Kidd Jackson” Hedge, my lifelines and the most non-piece-of-shit humans in the world—I love you.
Sharon and Peter Gelbwaks—you didn’t know that adopting my sister meant adopting me, too, but you’re stuck with me now. I’m so grateful for this new iteration of family.
To my sister and first star, Marjorie Hokulani, for always finding me, and my beloved nieces, Katherine Ailani, Victoria Ululani, and Kensington Kamaya.
To my brothers, the best men I’ve ever known: Shawn D. Madden and Blake Madden. For the laughs and the crabs and the jams and all those winding streets. Shawn, this book will always be titled Ghost Ride That Rainbow Whip in your honor. Blake, forever my hero and Soup King. Sweet love and fierce admiration to Tricia Murphy Madden, Tabitha Murphy Madden, and Tiffany Vergara Madden.
To Alexander, for turning the hourglass over.
To Chaplin, Ruby-June, and my first best friend, Cloud 9: I’ve always said I’d never be the writer to thank pets, yet here I am. Feeling guilty. The truth is, you’ve saved me from my sadness in ways both small and large.
To my parents, John Laurence Madden and Sherrie Lokelani Madden, to whom this book is dedicated. For this Big Life. For the greatest love of all. To Mom, especially, for facing these pages with unfathomable grace and understanding, for your fearless and wild and gorgeous heart, for all the handwritten cards, and for letting our story go on.
This book was written because once, a little girl needed more stories like her own. My greatest dedication and gratitude to every other drop-dead-lonely, queer-as-hell, bucktoothed loserly outcast reading a book under the covers with a little light, for anyone with a story to tell and a will to rise. Write it down. You are not alone; you are the champion of my heart.
To Drew Barrymore, for saving this kid’s life with a book.
And to my soon-to-be-wife, Hannah Beresford, for every draft, every mile, every kiss, and every day. They say happy endings don’t make for good stories but you have given me both, at once, in equal measure.
A NOTE ON THE AUTHOR
T Kira Madden is an APIA writer, photographer, and amateur magician. She is the founding editor in chief of No Tokens, and facilitates writing workshops for homeless and formerly incarcerated individuals. A 2017 NYSCA/NYFA Artist Fellow in nonfiction literature, she has received fellowships from the MacDowell Colony, Hedgebrook, Tin House, DISQUIET, Summer Literary Seminars, and Yaddo, where she was selected for the 2017 Linda Collins Endowed Residency Award. She lives in New York City and teaches at Sarah Lawrence College.