Lily Koppel was a gossip columnist for the New York Times when she found the red leather diary in a dumpster outside her building. She decided to track down the owner, who miraculously was 90 years old and still alive.
Here's the rest of the book:
The owner of the diary, Florence Wolfson, grew up among the Manhattan elite in the '20s and '30s. For Florence, life was all about art, plays, music, literature, and sexual experimentation with both men and women. She was self-centered, moody, and melodramatic. Florence grew up with virtually no parental guidance and no religious or moral conviction.
It showed.
I thought in the intervening 70 years that maybe Florence would have learned what life is really about. Instead, when the diary was brought to her, she said she felt that during the rest of her life she had not been true to the "real" person she was--the person from the diary.
Ick.