Like his character Joel in the Peabody Award-winning HBO series Somebody Somewhere, Jeff Hiller was raised in the church. Unlike the Kansan he played for three seasons, though, Hiller grew up in San Antonio. “We still own the same house I grew up in,” he says. He left Texas after college and lived in places as far flung as South Africa before settling in New York, but he comes back often to see his father and sister. “When I visit home now, it takes about 24 hours for my accent to come back,” he says.
Hiller’s new memoir, Actress of a Certain Age: My Twenty Year Trail to Overnight Success, is out this month from Simon & Schuster. It’s a series of laugh-out-loud yet heartfelt essays about getting bullied as a kid, coming out to his parents, and toiling away for two decades as a struggling actor and comedian before landing a co-lead role in Somebody Somewhere—a cult hit with a passionate fan base. As Hiller describes the show’s audience, “We are nine people’s favorite thing, and 100 people have never heard of us.”
Somebody Somewhere stars comedian Bridget Everett as Sam, a lost soul who returns to her hometown of Manhattan, Kansas, after her sister dies. Once there, she reunites with Joel, a high school acquaintance who quickly becomes her best friend and lifeline. The show is about grief, hope, and chosen family, and Hiller, as Joel, is wildly optimistic in the best possible way. His personality overflows with kindness and acceptance. He’s the heart of the show, the hope.
Hiller spent his 20s, 30s, and part of his 40s trying to “make it” as an actor, and his story is one of ultimate perseverance. “Life is surprises,” he writes in his memoir, “not deadlines or fooling yourself into thinking you need to stop wanting something to get the thing you want.”
Texas Highways: What was the genesis of the book?
Jeff Hiller: After Somebody Somewhere aired I did a press event and mentioned that I was in a writers group. An agent saw that and contacted me and said, “I think you have a book in you.” I said, “I do have a book in me!” I’d done several solo shows telling stories about my life, so that was a starting point. I knew I needed a chapter about growing up Christian and being a social worker, so I wrote a solo show called Middle Aged Ingenue where I told some of those stories to test them out and see what got a laugh.
TH: Were you worried about not having enough life experience to write a book?
JH: No! If somebody asked me to be the face of a vodka brand I’d be like, “I don’t know. That doesn’t seem like a good match.” But somehow with essays I was like, “I could do that.” Me doing a fashion spread? Unlikely. Writing a book about my life? Yes!
TH: You grew up in San Antonio. Were your parents raised there?
JH: My parents met in Elgin, and my mom’s grandparents came to Texas from Sweden. We used to visit my grandparents all the time, and we’d get several pounds of hot sausage in Elgin for every celebration in my family. My dad calls it “hot guts.”
TH: Did your family take road trips when you were a kid?
JH: We’d take trips to Corpus Christi. We didn’t even make it to Padre Island—we went to the parts of the coast with tar on the beach. We’d go to Natural Bridge Caverns a lot, and we drove to see the bats under the bridge in Austin. I loved the Fiesta celebration in San Antonio, and NIOSA [A Night in Old San Antonio].
TH: You write about seeing E.T. as a kid and being drawn to performing but not feeling like that was an attainable career in San Antonio. Did you push the idea of acting away, or was it always there?
JH: It was in my mind, but it was always a fantasy, not an actuality. More like, Wouldn’t that be amazing? I was always trying out for school plays, but I’ve had more success getting roles as an adult than I did in my high school. As a kid, I never met anyone who had become an actor, but then I heard that Henry Thomas, who played Elliot in E.T., filmed Cloak & Dagger in San Antonio. So I thought, “If that kid was in San Antonio, maybe I can act too”—which is bonkers.
TH: Then came college at Texas Lutheran University in Seguin.
JH: That’s right. I studied theater, but becoming a pastor was really the plan. Then I realized I couldn’t be a pastor because I’m gay, so I decided to be a social worker and help people. I still want to be of use and good for the world. I graduated with a theater degree just because I’d taken so many theater classes already.
TH: You have a lot in common with Joel, your character in Somebody Somewhere, including his love of the church and his do-gooder optimism.
JH: Before Joel, I’d played so many mean people, so I loved getting to play someone so nice for a change. Most of the time I walk down the street in New York just fine. But occasionally someone does recognize me, and the reaction is never just, “Oh, yeah, you’re on that show.” It’s, “I love Joel, and the show means so much to me.” It’s not a show you have on in the background. People really love it and feel seen by it, so any time I’m recognized for that, it’s life affirming. It’s sharing your heart with someone, which sounds trite, but it’s true. Bridget always says she thinks the show teaches people to never give up on themselves.
TH: Your memoir talks about the bullying you endured growing up, and the fact that your parents, especially your mom, were always so supportive. Have any of those high school bullies reached out to you?
JH: They did when I was in these Snickers commercials that aired during NFL playoff games. Not one but two bullies reached out on Facebook like, “Yo man, I saw you on ESPN.” I didn’t really know what to reply to them. It’s not like they wrote an apology for making it impossible for me to open my locker or making fun of the way I carried my books. So, I was just like, “Cool, thanks.” When I did the Moontower Comedy Festival [in Austin] in 2024, though, it was like going to my own funeral. All these people from my life showed up. A lady who used to babysit me, an old teacher. It was really beautiful.
TH: You write so lovingly about your mother, who died in 2016. What do you think she would have thought about Somebody Somewhere and your book?
JH: I feel so sad that she died before Somebody Somewhere because she would have loved it and loved that I was on shows like Late Night With Seth Meyers. I once made a video that went viral and my mom was constantly refreshing and reading the comments, which is a dangerous idea. With the book, I think she would have read the part about her letting me miss school to go to SeaWorld and said, “Oh Lord, don’t say I took you out of school! That was one time!” She was a real Texas lady, with real big hair.
TH: Do you think your Texas roots have influenced your performing or writing?
JH: It must because you don’t spend the first 22 years of your life somewhere and not have it affect you. The humor I have, the self-deprecation and making fun of myself, and not taking myself too seriously, comes from my parents and their social circle. It comes from the ladies at the church who were like, “Let me tell you something that’s just a little off color.” I definitely go further than they did, but I always loved it when we’d be at coffee hour at church, and they’d be a little saucy but also warm and never cruel. I liked the culture of Sunday morning coffee hour.
TH: What are your feelings about Texas now, and what’s your ideal day when you visit?
JH: It’s still home. I still want to get a bean and cheese at Taco Cabana, and I love the sound of cicadas, and those limestone buildings. During the holidays I bring my husband home and this year we went to Marfa and Houston. I love the rivers in San Marcos and New Braunfels and getting snow cones at those places with like 1,000 flavors where you can get Tiger’s Blood or something. In college my friends and I would get fruit and snow cones and wade in the river, so I’d do that again. And go back to Pedernales Falls.
TH: You write about your mom loving margaritas, so what was her order? Frozen? Rocks?
JH: On the rocks with salt, no Tajín. Her favorite restaurant was El Jarro. And she never got high-end tequila. She barely even knew what well tequila meant.
TH: You’re embarking on a book tour, so what would you say to those high school bullies if they showed up to a signing?
JH: If they came to a book signing it would kind of be a mea culpa. It’s one thing to say I saw you when I was watching football. And it’s very different when they’re going to read a book you wrote. I would hope they would have some remorse. This world is so full of hate and I’m all about the love, even toward people I don’t agree with. I just want to have a little compassion. I’m pro compassion.
