Carrie Fisher Had Just One Request for Her Obituary, according to Vanity Fair

As she put it in Wishful Drinking: “I want it reported that I drowned in moonlight, strangled by my own bra.”

Her self-penned obit is everything. As an author, an actor, and a princess, Carrie Fisher was bold, authentic and witty. The best kind of wit, too. Dry.

I never ascribed to the Disney princess trope. It was this intergalactic Princess, so aptly portrayed by Carrie Fisher, that stole my heart and set the bar for hero worship. As a young girl who saw Star Wars in the theater and inadvertently sat through two screenings in a row ("just duck down" said my friend's older cousins), it was Princess Leia I aspired to--she was a leader, brave, and bright, with a wry sense of humor. Compared to Leia, Luke and Han Solo were weak, goofy and self-centered.

After Princess Leia, my next hero crush was Wonder Woman. Diana Prince wore glasses (just like me!) and was a sexy badass bad guy slayer. She was smart AND strong, like Leia.

While not technically classified as an Amazon, my Princess Leia doll was larger and had a more realistic body than all of my Barbie dolls--pretty ironic considering her petite stature in Star Wars. When the Princess wasn't in her formal white robe attire, I dressed her in homemade doll clothes, chaste prairie dresses made of cotton calico prints. She remained barefoot, as none of the Mattel shoes fit her solid, flat feet. I released her brunette waves from the space age side buns, and let her rule my fantasy galaxy.

In his own thoughtful reflection on Carrie Fisher, my very good friend Will questioned, without this character and Fisher's apt portrayal of her, would we have such heroines as Hermione Granger, Katniss Everdeen, Daenerys Targaryen, and Arya Stark? Hard to say. But I'm hopeful there will be even more.