Everybody Dies: A Children's Book for Grown-Ups

I am super excited to welcome David Ury to my blog.  Last week I read a

post

about his soon to be released book,

Everybody Dies: A Children's Book for Grown-Ups, 

and thought it was brilliant.  I can't wait to pick up my copy later today!  So, who is David Ury?

Author, actor, and stand-up comic David Ury has a long history with death. While he is best known for getting crushed by an ATM as the character

Spooge

in AMC's "Breaking Bad," he has been shot, bitten, impaled, and stabbed to death countless times in American films and television programs. David's first acting role was in a high school production of "Riders to the Sea." He played the role of Bartley, an Irish fisherman who spent most of the play lying dead onstage, which made his mother cry. He has written nearly one hundred English language adaptations of foreign comics including "Me and the Devil Blues," which won a Glyph Award in 2009.

DW:  So, what made you want to write a book about death?

DU:  It has always seemed odd to me that death is such a taboo subject, especially considering that it's one of the few things in life that every single one of us will experience. It seems that sex and death are the great taboos....you can't talk about the creation of life and you can't talk about the end of it...but all that stuff in between is fair game. I, personally, am quite terrified of death. This book helps frightened grown ups like myself come to grips with the inevitable fate that awaits us all.

DW:  Have you had a lot of personal experience with death in your life?

DU:  I have certainly lost people close to me. There wasn't a particular loss that motivated this book.

DW:  What are your hopes for this book, besides domination on the NY Times bestseller list?

DU:  Domination of the Amazon Best sellers list and.... My ultimate goal in my work is always to create something that is funny but with an underlying poignancy so that the reaction is something like "Hah, that's funny....wait, what?"

If this book could start a conversation about death and how we approach it in Western Society I think that would be nice.

DW:  Why do you think our culture is so reluctant to talk about death? (From my own experience, I felt like I might somehow attract it into my life if I paid attention to it.)

DU:  I know what you mean about attracting death. Having made this book, I think all the time of the ironic death that could be waiting for me. I've had a bit of anxiety leading up to the release of this book just because it would be so fitting to die just as the book is being released....it would probably be great for sales....luckily my PR guy at Harper Collins isn't that extreme and hasn't really suggested that as an option for getting the book to take off.

I think death scares the crap out of us all. And in the modern Western world death is very sanitized. It's generally something that we only encounter at a hospital, or a funeral parlor. We don't see death in our everyday lives like people might have hundreds of years ago. I think that makes it easy to avoid the subject. Death is something that happens to other people.

DW:  I read that you have translated a ton of Manga books. Do you have any desire to write your own?

DU:  Yes, I think I've done about 150 graphic novels...which means about 30,000 translated pages. I would love to write my own manga.

DW:  Will you be doing any book signings?

DU:  Tuesday May 27th is the release date and I will be reading at

Book Soup

in West Hollywood at 7pm.

June 8th (Sunday 3pm) co-author/artist

Ken Tanaka

will be having a book release party at Pasadena Museum of California Art. His art exhibit will be up through the end of June. You can see some pages from the book on Ken Tanaka's

website

.

Thank you so much for answering my questions and good luck with the book!  You can check out

Everybody Dies: A Children's Book for Grown-Ups

here.

You can follow David on Twitter @isthisdavidury

Working With Death: Forensic Chemist

Michelle O’Neal is a Senior Forensic Chemist at the Tarrant County Medical Examiner’s Office. With twenty-five years’ experience in drug chemistry she also assists with the recovery of buried and/or skeletal remains and the collection of trace evidence from suspected homicide victims. She is a member of several professional organizations, a current board member and a past President of the Southwestern Association of Forensic Scientists.

In the area of community service Michelle sat for two years as the Board President for The Samaritan House/Samaritan Villages housing project which provides homes for persons living with HIV/AIDS in Fort Worth and she was the 2014 Education Director for the non-profit DFW Writers’ Workshop Conference.

Through the experience gained as a drug analyst and ten years as a crime scene investigator, Ms. O’Neal shares her adventures with a twisted sense of fiction in her novel SHAMBLES.
DW: Tell me about your job.

MO: My daily duties now are mostly confined to the drug chemistry lab. I analyze substances ranging from marijuana to methamphetamine utilizing analytical instrumentation such as gas chromatography/mass spectrometry (GCMS) and Fourier Transform infrared spectrophotometry (FTIR).

I’m on the buried and/or skeletal remains recovery team and the trace evidence recovery team. If our forensic anthropologist receives and call on possible buried remains or skeletal remains, I assist with everything from packing gear to photography to uncovering human remains by meticulously brushing away soil.

In the morgue at the request of one of our pathologist, I search suspected homicide victims and collect any trace evidence such as hairs, fibers or blood that may help solve the crime.


DW: When was the first time you encountered a dead person?

MO: Honestly in my career, I really don’t remember. The very first was my grandfather. I was eight years old and we were at the funeral home where they’d laid him out on a bed. My grandmother and father kept putting his glasses on and taking them off, trying to decide which looked better. It seemed ridiculous to me and I think I blurted out something like “He’s dead he doesn’t need glasses.” My mother labeled me precocious at a very young age.

DW: How was that?

MO: Well it sure gave me a healthy view of death. Because of that experience I never felt the body was the person. The body resembled my grandfather but it wasn’t my grandfather. Even when he slept on the couch he snored loudly. My family was so matter of fact, when I stated the obvious my grandmother shrugged and put his glasses in her purse.

DW: Does seeing a dead body bother you?

MO: A lifeless body can be creepy, but it can be peaceful too. It depends on the age and condition of the body. It’s hard to curtail feelings of anger when the body is that of a child who died a violent death. Or not be repulsed by the stench of a decomposed body.

The most memorable child case I worked was the crime scene of a slain eleven year old girl. Whose mother did nothing when the little girl informed her that the mom’s boyfriend had sexually assaulted her repeatedly. With the news helicopters flapping overhead I held a lock of her blonde hair and made a promise.

From the beginning I made promises to the dead. I still stand close by and promise to do the best job possible so whoever took them from their friends and family will be held responsible. It helps me look at it as a job. A job that has to be done, a job I am well trained to do.

Two of the most difficult crimes scenes I worked were not homicides. One was an elderly man that lived with his mentally challenged son. He lay dead of natural causes in the house they shared for weeks. When the detective asked why he didn’t call someone, the son replied because I will miss my Dad. We made eye contact as I passed on one of many trips in and out of the foul-smelling house. The look of loss in his eyes still haunts me. The other was the suicide of a fifteen year old, the same age as my own son at the time. His parents were in the house. As I trekked through carrying my gear to his location in the back yard I could hear his mother’s visceral wailing. I can’t imagine the pain of losing a child for any reason.

And I’ve had family members thank me. In the mist of their grief they take the time to say Thank You. As horrible as someone has been to their loved one(s) they still find it in their heart to be kind. I’m always amazed by how people treat each other from one extreme to the other.

DW: What got you interested in this line of work?

MO: Well, being the precocious child that I was, I began reading true crime around the age of twelve. I read KIDNAP The Story of the Lindbergh Case by George Waller and I was fascinated by the way they matched the wood in Bruno Hauptman’s attic to the wood used to build the ladder found at the Lindbergh home. (The science behind this is now questioned) Then at thirteen or fourteen I read Helter Skelter, The True Story of the Manson Murders by Vincent Bugliosi. Tex Watson was convicted on the testimony of a housekeeper. He claimed his fingerprints were on a doorknob in the house because he had attended a party in the Tate home some months prior to the murders. The housekeeper testified Sharon Tate had an obsession for clean doorknobs, so she cleaned them weekly. I knew at an early age this was the career for me.

DW: In your personal life have you had any experience with death?

MO: Yes I have, three times. Several years ago a friend of mine was alone at the hospital while her father struggled with a slow death from emphysema. She had no other family so I stayed with her in his room. Before he dozed off as they increased his morphine drip he shooed her away and reached for me. He clasped my hand in his, gave me a look of knowing and closed his eyes. His last few breaths were peaceful. Oddly enough, within a week I witnessed the birth of a neighbors’ baby.

In late 2010 I was diagnosed with an atypical very fast growing, neuroendocrine cancer. I had twenty metastasized tumors in my liver. With chemotherapy they gave me six to eight months to live. I work at the medical examiners’ office, people die every day. Why should I be any different? I vowed to continue with chemo even after the first three (horrible) rounds of cisplatin did no good. I found myself comforting my friends and family I wanted them to accept my upcoming departure. Not one complied with my wishes. In the thirteen months that followed I had twelve rounds of chemotherapy and liver resection surgery. Thanks to a man that survived full blown AIDS and refused to let me die, many very special people, positive vibes into the universe, candle lighting prayers and great doctors I’m cancer free today.

My mother’s death six months ago, we removed her from life support. We said our goodbyes and once she slipped from consciousness I was the only one in family okay with it, because I knew she was ready. But when her heart stopped beating I fell apart. I miss her terribly some days, but at least she’s not in pain anymore.

DW: Any words of advice concerning death?

MO: No but I have some concerning life. Do what makes you happy today don’t plan for happiness in the future. You may not have one.

Monday Mourning

I met Sonya Reed several months after I'd met and written about Khristian Oliver.  She sent me a lovely letter to thank me for being there for Khristian on the day of his death.  A friendship blossomed.  We send each other letters, I visit her when I can and I adopted Violet, the cat she saved from being euthanized by the prison.  

DW:  Who was the person that died?

SR:  The person I lost was my husband, Khristian Oliver. 

DW:  How old were you at the time?

SR:  I was thirty-seven.

DW:  How old was the person?

SR:  He was thirty-two.  He'd been on death row for almost twelve years.

DW:  Was it a sudden death or did you know it was going to happen?

SR:  We knew it was going to happen.  We hoped it wouldn't, but there's a certain inevitability for people with a death sentence.  The only thing I can remotely compare it to is that it felt similar to having a loved one die of a terminal illness.

DW:  

Did you and Khristian talk about death? 

SR:  We communicated several times a week via letters and the prison wardens allowed us a one hour phone conversation on his last day.  It was immeasurably precious and far too short.  I cannot possibly describe what it feels like to be someone's last wish.  It was surreal.  I cried through the entire conversation. Bless his heart; he tried to be stoic, to comfort me, but I could hear the fear in his voice.  He said, "I think they're going to get me, baby."  I could hear the surrender too.  He wanted to live, but he also bore an enormous burden of guilt.  He told me, "nothing they could ever do to me is worse that what I've already done to myself."

DW:  Had you experienced any other deaths in your personal life before this person died?

SR:  I experienced death early on when my grandfather, whom I was close to, passed away.  My older brother was killed in a car accident when I was six.  That's when I first started having panic attacks.  Also, being from a rural area, I experienced the deaths of pets and other animals more than I care to remember.  I always took the deaths personally, as if there was something I could have done to prevent them.

DW:  Were people supportive of your grief or did they shy away when you were grieving?

SR:  I experienced such a wide variety of reactions from others when Khristian was executed, it's hard to classify them as either supportive or shying away.  An execution is not a normal death and given that it was on the news, most people here at the prison were curious, at best.  I felt like I couldn't get away from all the voyeuristic type questions; "what were his last words?" and "what was his last meal," etc.  So many people were incredibly insensitive to my grief while trying to satisfy their curiosity, but there were some who were genuinely supportive and just let me be.  It's impossible to find private time in a women's prison, but that's all I wanted to do--to grieve alone.  It seemed everyone felt that their words of comfort or advice were the very ones I needed to make it through, but nothing anyone said or did could have ever made it better.

DW:  Is there anything you wish you'd done differently with this person?

SR:  I have so much regret concerning Khristian, it would take a book to write it all down.  I wish I could have saved him.  I wish I had been more assertive with him and saved someone else, too.  I wish I had shown him more that I loved him as much as he loved me.  I wish my love could have healed his emotional damage.  I wish I'd take him to the beach.  He never got to go.  After he was sentenced to death, and the subsequent appeals were lost, one by one, it became increasingly important to me that he know that he was loved and cherished.  That his life had merit and value.  That he meant something important to someone--that if he died, his life would not have been in vain.  I can only hope that I did that for him.

DW:  Was he buried or cremated?

SR:  He was buried, but I was not allowed to attend the funeral and have not seen the grave site.  I hear he has a beautiful Celtic cross headstone, but my only concern is that there's a place for me next to him.  I wrote a memorial, a eulogy of sorts, which his sister read at the funeral.  It helped me to feel a part of it.

DW:  Did you learn anything about the grieving process that you'd like to share?

SR:  Knowing beforehand that there are psychological steps to the grieving process helped me to an extent. I'd recognize my thoughts or behavior and think, "ohhhh, that's where this anger is coming from."  Being there for Khristian's mother helped a great deal, even though I didn't recognize it at the time.  She'd been through what no mother should have to endure.  I just listened and gave her love.  In those first few months, I think being there for her gave me the strength to keep going.  When depression finally hit me, it was being there and caring for a little cat that saved me.  Violet gave me a purpose when I felt I had absolutely no reason to keep going.  Even now, almost four years later, I am still committed to saving these helpless prison cats. 

You can read about these cats on Sonya's blog,

here

.

DW:  Last but not least, were any songs played at the memorial that were important to the person?  

SR:  I so badly wanted Khristian's favorite song played at his funeral  Sophie B Hawkins' "As I Lay Me Down."  It's ironic that his favorite song is one of goodbye.  His sister was unable to find it and they played something else.