It all started with Anne Frank.

I first heard the story of her short life during a school assembly at the age of five. Fascinated by the story, I begged my headmistress to let me see the book she had been reading from, so I could see the story for myself. That assembly sparked a lifelong infatuation, culminating in (so far) an entire shelf of books about Anne Frank, a dissertation I actually enjoyed writing because it was about her, and a genuine squeal of excitement when I saw a front page article about her in the Times the other week. Oh yeah - and writing a diary.

I'm not sure what held my attention about her when I was young - at that age I didn't have a clue what the Holocaust was. I didn't even make it past the first few days of her incarceration in the Secret Annexe before I gave up, and it was years before I properly sat down and read the book. I can't explain it, her story just drew me in and has continued to do so. I think it was her youth and the incredible talent she managed to harness and develop during her short life. And as ghoulish as it may sound, it was the tragedy of her story that appealed to me as well, but from the angle that so much good has come from what she left behind. Not long ago, a man appeared on Mastermind, with his specialist subject being Anne Frank. From the comfort of my sofa, I wiped the floor with him.

Next, there was Bobby from Home and Away. Remember her? Slightly troubled waif with rat nibbled hair and the the Demon Headmaster for a father (aka 'Flathead' Fisher). I thought she was great - pissing off half the town, wrestling with all those demons (a dead boyfriend or something - I don't know, I was eight). She was tough, self-aware and incredibly street smart, but under it all, just wanted to belong to someone who loved her.

Of course, then she grew up, had scary hair, shacked up with a father and son, and worked in the Bayside Diner (is that what it was called? Or am I getting confused with Saved By The Bell?). All was well! Happiness after a lifetime of adversity was possible! After so much struggle, she had finally emerged on top! Of course, then she got into a boat with that miscreant Adam Cameron, hit a log and drowned. And apparently reappeared as a disembodied head in another character's fridge about a decade later while they were having some sort of breakdown. Huh. So that's how low Home and Away has sunk, has it? Glad I deserted that sinking ship when I did.

Last but by no means least, was Kerry Mangel, nee Bishop, of Neighbours. Single mum and hippy daughter of Harold. God, I loved her, but each time she cut her hair, a little part of me died. In a spectacular rebellion against her uptight father, she ran off to travel the world, getting knocked up by a fellow hippy in the process. I loved her style - I have a vague recollection of trying to make a pair of earring similar to hers - using orange seeds and gold paint. Don't ask. But I also really dug the fact that she was willing to stand up and be passionate about the things she believed in, no matter how much it irked or worried everyone around her. Although, in another premature departure from this earth, she got hit by a stray bullet during a protest against duck hunting, so, with hindsight, maybe they had a point.

So what's the point of this, you might ask? What connection is there between two Australian soap characters and the poster girl for the Holocaust? Well, during my formative years, these girls were my heroes. They were exactly what I wanted to be like. I got to thinking about them a while ago, and couldn't help noticing that the women I admired so much met with rather untimely ends. It seems that my early female role models fell into three distinct catergories - young, headstrong ... and dead.

Obviously most people with an iconic status are dead - the Presleys, Monroes or Hepburns of this world. Maybe death makes you into a safe figures of admiration - you can't make any more mistakes or mess anything up any more. It's all there on the page. (there are exceptions, obviously. I doubt the same applies to Anna Nicole Smith). But, seeing as it's a very real possibility that some of you don't have a clue who I'm talking about beyond Anne Frank, my heroes clearly weren't all iconic. It looks like I just have a deep-seated admiration for women who lived passionately and died young. Even though my life at the moment is shaping up to look like 'lived mediocre, died surrounded by cats'.

NB: For the attention of Kate Winslet: I also think you're the dog's proverbials, but please don't let that worry you.