My fascination with Lee sprang from images—images of her, and images taken by her. Her confident gaze in her very first cover image for Vogue in 1927, her defiant stare in photos taken by her father, the love in her eyes as she looked up at Man, her utter transformation into a hardened war reporter. The images were access points into novel scenes, and remained touchstones for me as I was writing and revising the book. The novel, then, is the story behind the images. It is a work of fiction, and even though I absorbed facts from many excellent biographies and historical texts while I was
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