Yesterday Carrie Fisher died following her heart attack on friday. It hit me harder than I thought it would and I had a lot of tears coming last night. The culmination of the loss of the wonderful people who made up a lot of my childhood and adolescence has made this year harder than others, and this week with the death of George Michael and Carrie Fisher harder still. My friend IAmElenaFerrante has written a lovely blogpost on how she felt when George Michael died here, and it’s well worth a read.
Carrie obviously meant a lot to me. She was a person that was unapologetically herself and wouldn’t let anyone change that. She was smart, very funny and apparently great to everyone who met her. I wasn’t a massive Star Wars fan, I liked it but didn’t feel the need to involve myself in that particular fandom in my younger years. I appreciate it much more now, and love the new one a lot.
My feelings about Carrie matured as well over the last few years when her visibility increased again. Pretty much any appearance or interview she did is worth watching, but one of my absolute favourites is her QI participation:
It’s also worth it finding her writing. She had a way with words, and it’s not surprising she was a brilliant script doctor. All the stories written about her over the last day makes me wish I could have met her even more than I already did. As a lasting tribute I’ll include the cause of death she wanted: She died drowned in moonlight, strangled by her own bra.