When I was little, I was obsessed with the movie National Velvet. I would watch it, rewind it and then watch it over again, mesmerized by a 12-year-old Liz Taylor and the strikingly beautiful Angela Lansbury. I loved it so much, I even wrote my own tribute-like short story to the movie, with an identical plot line and setting. I thought it was the best thing since sliced bread, until my mom was like, “Honey, let me explain to you what plagiarism is.” Anyway, when I heard of her passing this morning, I was reminded of all those hours I spent watching that movie, mouthing along to her lines, rooting for her to win the big race.
I hope you’re resting easy, Liz. The world already misses you.