We: a lost literary heroine, myself (the Lady Detective), and you (yes, you - the ADVENTURESS IN COMMAND of that browser) have a story to tell. 

What's Holly's deal? Well. Miss Golightly boarded an airplane, bound for Buenos Aires, in 1945. And was last seen, eleven years later, in East Anglia on Christmas Day. "Rode away on a horse," rumor has it. But you, likely, wouldn't know about that. "Single woman escapes devastation and humiliation to enthusiastically explore the planet until finding herself adored and idolized by an African tribe" isn't the cinematic saga that we ended up with. Perhaps some studio exec decided that she was more marketable as a pussycat stroking Mrs.? That would explain lip-locking her up to her best guy pal. After they shoved him into the closet, of course. The credits rolled with haste and before either of them could utter so much as a "but wait!"

That's my cue. But (insert bombastic expletive) wait, was my guttural reaction to this heartbreaking discovery. Disgust was the next palpable emotion. Having carb loaded at Tiffany & CO. at dawn, having long been an avid collector of dramatically oversized sunglasses, having wondered if I would EVER shake off the mean reds and find my own "real-life place," I was furious! And the ravenous anger holding court over this NEXT LEVEL perversion of the whole (yep, gimme another F-bomb) deal could only be satiated by one thing: a promise. I promised myself that I would Nancy Drew the stink off this injustice if it was the last move I ever made. Turns out, it was the very first. So there's that story.

Which brings us to yours. What's your story? Seriously. Start at the beginning and keep spilling until we get to "band camp." When did you first wonder if you would have the same kind of life as "all of” the other girls? Or IF you even wanted that kind of life? What are the secrets and insecurities that confine you? What are you afraid of?

And, while we're on THAT note, do you have ANY IDEA how much courage it takes to be afraid!? How much strength it requires to be weak? I want to know your story. Not the Studio Suit's version. Not the snippet that ends whilst you're smooching Mr. Whomever in the rain. But the long, drawn out, beautifully broken, scattered about, bits and pieces! Because OUR STORY will not be complete without it.