Darling, 

Welcome to my boudoir. Come, recline on the velvet chaise and puff a joint—weed, spliff, clove, take your pick—as I place you in the privilege and powerlessness of my high-heeled shoes. By telling you my tales in the second-person view, I invite you to feel as I felt, to think how I thought, yet to conclude as you will.
You will judge me. Love me. Fear me and want to hold me. My innermost desires, confessions, and memories will spill on silk sheets. If you’ve ever wondered what it’s really like to be an actress, skirting the edges of fame in the early aughts of the Millennium, lie back and let me massage your curiosity. It may get uncomfortable. Be seduced by this invitation to empathy, and know you may end this session at any time.
My tales are both memoir and vignette—or, as I like to call them, memoirettes. Like all memories, they are faulty, stained by time and self-importance. The chronology of events leaps to and fro, certain names have been changed for privacy, and themes of womanhood and shifts of culture are offered through the only eyes I have. Don’t mistake my clarity for certainty.
Follow me through palm-lined boulevards and red-carpeted chateaus. Cry with me in Art Deco apartments and toilettes of film festivals abroad. I give you all my glamour and all my insecurity. 
Yours,
Alice

Should you choose to become a member

(and you can preview what you’ll be getting here…)
For FansYour free subscription grants you archive access to all teaser-length tales, plus occasional extended stories that won’t be shared on Instagram; a monthly chance to win a 3-month paid subscription in a giveaway; and the occasional tabloid of personal news.
For Red Carpet Walkers — $5 per month, or just $50 per year, allows you behind the velvet rope for all-new and extended memoirettes. (This is where the juicy stuff is, dear.) Your agent also negotiated poems, photographs, your ability to post comments.
For ProducersWhy, I ought to say you shouldn’t have! Your generous donation of $250 per year grants you an upcoming copy of Alice in Hollywoodland: The Anthology (yes, I’m compiling a volume), an autographed copy of my memoir Wayward, and my sincerest thanks at the Awards. Who knows, maybe you’ll also receive a producer’s-only invitation to a VIP event…
Thank you, darling. I’ll be here at my writing desk overlooking the Hollywood sign, crafting tales of woeful naïveté and bygone adventures.

Photo by Deborah Anderson