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About Grief Girl: My True Story
Product Description It's just another October day until Erin’s parents are hit by a speeding tow truck. Mom dies instantly. Dad dies one month later, after doctors assure Erin he’s going to make it. Now Erin and her sister are left to raise their baby brother—and each other. This is Erin Vincent’s gripping true story of how one moment tears a family apart and how love and strength come together to rebuild what was lost. Grief Girl will break your heart and then fill you with hope, time and time again. Review "After any death, there is bound to be searing anger as well as grief. In this amazing tale of woe, venality, treachery, larceny and plain old-fashioned abuse, Erin Vincent tells the story of her parents' death, and the harrowing Dickension fallout which then ensued. GRIEF GIRL is a story of righteous indignation, bruising sorrow but a final triumph that has you cheering for this wonderful woman by the end." -Carolyn See “A gripping memoir . . . glimpses of humor amid tragedy make this a pageturner.” —School Library Journal“Any adolescent going through the grieving process will tearfully embrace her book.” —Booklist“Intimate, honest narrative.” —Publishers Weekly About the Author Erin Vincent has worked as a journalist, a fashion designer, a theater actress, a photographer’s assistant, a tailor to the stars, and a bartender, and has served meat pies and mushy peas late at night from a roadside van in Sydney. She now spends her days (and nights) as a writer and a youth counselor. Erin divides her time between her hometown of Sydney, Australia, and Los Angeles. She lives with her artist husband, Adam Knott (aka Adam James K), a one-eyed goldfish named Reginald, and a sweet little cat named Foofee. Sadly, her beloved pet crab Charlie died after sticking around long enough to help her get through the writing of Grief Girl. RIP, Charlie. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. October 23, 1983 It’s getting late and Mum and Dad aren’t back yet. They said they’d be home before dark. So where are they? I should be happy. Even though I’m fourteen, I’ve never been allowed to stay alone for more than a few hours, and tonight I’ve got the whole house to myself. I can blast my music, watch whatever I want on TV, raid the refrigerator. But something doesn’t feel right. This isn’t like Mum. She’s the kind of mother who’ll call and tell me the car has broken down or she’s caught up talking to someone, or that she and Dad have stopped for something to eat. She’s the kind of mother who worries too much and calls too often. Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe they said they’d be late? No, I remember Mum walking over to me on the sofa at lunchtime, kissing me and saying they’d definitely be home before dark. They were going to visit Nanny’s grave in the country, dropping my little brother, Trent, off at Evelyn’s house on the way. So where are they? It’s seven o’clock already. I’ll call Evelyn. She’s Mum’s best friend. “Hi, it’s Erin. Have Mum and Dad come to pick up Trent?” “Not yet. So I get some extra time with him. He’s so sweet!” “Good,” I say, distracted. “Um, Evelyn? I’m worried.” But Evelyn tells me not to be. “They probably just got held up, Erin. I’ll have them call you as soon as they get here.” “Okay. Thanks.” I hang up. Maybe I am overreacting. Mum says I’m a worrywart, but it’s her fault. She’s the one always going on about wanting to die before us kids. Now she’s got me thinking the worst. Maybe I should do my tapestry to take my mind off things. I’ve just learned embroidery, and I’m surprising Mum with a tapestry for Christmas. I know it’s kind of geeky, but I can’t help it. I love how the picture emerges with each stitch. When it comes to her birthday and Christmas, Mum always says, “Just make me something, darling.” But I never do. My sister, Tracy, rolled her eyes when she found out. “You’re such a dork. Why do you have to sit around reading all the time? And now tapestry? You’re ho
