Part 7: Drunk on Oscar night
Taylor Swift took possession of our house in Fall 2015. At the same time, my second book Sporting Guide (historical fiction set in the world of vice and sex work in 1890s Los Angeles) was published. In January of that year, right before my dad died, maybe the day before, my publisher reminded me that I needed to turn in the final draft with Acknowledgements included. I had been hesitating. I knew I wanted to dedicate the book to my dad but was superstitious that if I did, he would die. I remember typing the words “for my father” and sobbing hysterically. The next morning I held his hand as he died in the hospital.
While I was promoting the book, I heard through a few mutual friends that Taylor wanted to get in touch with me and talk about the house. My friends knew how close I was with my dad, the grief I was in, and were rightfully protective of my mental state, so they didn’t connect us. I wasn’t ready to talk to anyone, let alone a complete stranger, about my childhood home and family stories. She was dating Calvin Harris at the time and I heard he had given her a special tree to plant in place of some of the roses I had removed. But that might have been hearsay. I want to be respectful of her privacy, with what I share here, too.
It wasn’t until Oscar night, 2016 that our paths finally crossed…