As we all know, Kitty was the name Anne Frank awarded her diary. I went to the Anne Frank Huis in Amsterdam and looked at the pictures of the then-Princess Elizabeth pasted on the wall. For some reason it was easier to imagine Anne cutting up that paper and figuring out where to put it, rather than writing "Dear Kitty."
I'm the sort of writer who believes that any writing is complete only when it is read. Did Anne think about who would read her diary? She could never have imagined its effect. But then again, she was living through an unimaginable time, going from happy-go-lucky to lucky-to-be-alive -- but only if hidden.
There are people who don't believe in "Dear Kitty" or the Holocaust. They are the ones who dub the 'time that was consumed by fire' as fake facts.
I read Anne's diary years and years ago. It chilled me such that I could not bring myself to read the unexpurgated edition. Sometimes once is enough to mark you for life.
Human trafficking, the subject of my first mystery, "The Girl Who Went Missing" marks millions of humans every year. It's not fake fact. It's a hard, horrible, gut wrenching fact. And I wish there was more I could do.
Meanwhile my own Kitty, Kitty O, styled after a certain Jackie O (I am not one to bend to gender), considers the human traffic in the house from his perch on the piano. If it's too noisy, he hides. If he wants something, he meows, and we are there for him.
If only life were that simple.
If someone says it is that simple, I would say that might be a fake fact.