The year was 1932.
Little scraps of paper in neat stacks around her room. Always jotting something down, always making notes and observations.
Remembrances of a time when life was hard but simple, to simple.
Family, friends, first love...
That's what Lillian cherished most, she was after all only twelve; but she had an old soul.
I remember the day the battered shoebox appeared on the front steps of Trinity Press. My associate showed up for work and found the box sitting there soaked from the rain the night before.
Never did find out who left it.
After letting the contents dry out for a week or so, we all became very intrigued with what was inside.
Dozens and dozens of notes. Very odd little bits they were. Most had dates on them, some however seemed to be written by, well, I'm still not sure.
As we composed and read the observations we found them more and more peculiar. Something was very odd, very odd indeed.
Cornelius was most interested.
We spent days rebuilding or rather building the notes into what it really was, a diary, Lillians diary.
Cornelius had several copies printed up which he gave to his most trusted confidants for analysis.
He felt this was a most disturbing window into a year in the life of this young girl.
I must say, to be honest, disturbing in the sense that, to this day, we still do not understand how this diary was written.
Bring your spectators into the world of Lillian where things are not always what they appear to be.
You will be able to describe in detail, what your spectator is reading, yet they never utter a single word.
Simulated Hand Written Diary