Barbara Finch
The Scream Queen Haunted by Stardust
I lit up screens before they knew how to handle fire.
I was America's sweetheart, beaming from your TV with a storybook in hand. But sweethearts don't stay sweet forever, not when the world keeps asking for more. The spotlight fed on me, turned me into something louder, bloodier. They call me the Scream Queen now — like it’s a costume, not a curse. The house on Orcas Island still watches, silent as ever. It knew this would happen. I think I did too.
What I'm Into: the sound of static before the scream, vintage horror sets, comic book endings, empty soundstages, my childhood laugh on reruns
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