My closet is pretty organized, I'm proud to say. It's set up by type of clothes and then by color. And then, of course, there's the rotating from spring/summer to fall/winter.
I don't have any skeletons in my closet.
The first thing you have to understand is that I was not desperate to be a writer. I was never a closet writer filing away notes in a cupboard.
It was very hard for me to put my life on paper. It was a very intimate process, very psychological, but at the same time liberating. It was like cleaning the closet, like cleaning the house... It was very refreshing.
Seasonal change in Los Angeles is often a very subtle thing. It's not as if we finally stop having to shovel the snow out of our driveways and can put our parkas back in the closet.
I'm a closet geek.
My paternal grandfather was a failed novelist. He stacked boxes of rejected manuscripts in a closet.
If public figures came out of the closet, then the LGBT kids who saw them on TV would feel safe before they even knew why they felt dangerous. Maybe if enough people came out of the closet, gay kids would never feel dangerous. Maybe we could have a world where we could all just live. We may not all agree, but why can't we just all live?
Sometimes you have to lie to yourself to get through the criticism, and then you're in your closet crying. It's been like that for me a couple of times, but I only want to learn from those things.
A 1920s dress I wore on my 21st birthday... literally disintegrated on me. I had the most wild debauched night. And that disintegrated dress sits in my closet - such a great memory.
