When I started drawing Little Dee, someone told me it’d never be big because too many people would think that it was horrible that parents might lose a kid, and scary for parents with kids thinking they could.
But there was something about the situation which kept intriguing me, like the little bit of spark and discomfort behind the entire strip. it is fun and happy and loving, but there is this background conflict which you know someday must be resolved.
See, here’s another one you might not know unless you grew up with only wood to heat your home. The piles are BIG. By this I mean that you stack little logs maybe 5 feet tall and 30 feet long outside your house and cover it in plastic. And so when a stack tips over, woe betide who might be underneath it.
By the way, I’m LOVING hearing all of your stories about wood burning childhoods.
We used to fill up the wheelbarrow with logs, roll them to the front steps, and then pass off the wood from hands to hands to pile which we called a “chain gang.”
I LOVE these memories. :)