I’ve been living life as a Runaway.  I saw the movie three times, I read the books Neon Angel and Joan Jett, watched Foxes, and cut my hair.  This narrative has a pull over me, a grown lady who should be done with slouching and greasy hair.  The Runaways, the books, and the interviews, especially of Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning, are texts that clarify and complicate the meaning of child actors and musicians growing into adulthood.

Kristen Stewart is amazing.  In interviews she’s not coy and cute, she’s weird and rude and awkward, defying the script of normal behavior.  Her Internet lovers and haters seem obsessed with her nervousness and stuttering.  Nothing seems to be a pose and that seems to piss people off, as if she should posture, stand straight and smile.  The truth is in the YouTube commentariat, mean, gracious, and otherwise.  One detractor says, “Kristen looks more like a hobo than a star.”  That’s a good thing!  Girl, meet me in the desert and we can be friends.

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