Hey, so WordPress went a bit spammy last night, I couldn’t publish my posts so I’ll be double-posting today [look out for my late night post at about half ten :)]
Today’s daily prompt asks me: if you could have any author – living or dead – write your biography, who would you choose?
Who would I choose? Hmm. Well, they’d have to be consistent, fair, balanced and experimental (a little) with their writing. I mean, I’m a writer anyway, so I would think I’d have written my autobiography myself – but for my biography? Who knows. I have favourite authors, like anyone does, but would I want them to write my life like that? Would I want them to delve into my crazy and abstract and painful – yet mundane – life? What if they got it wrong? What if I told them my little stories and they misinterpret what I say?
Oh actually, screw all that insightful mumbo-jumbo. Karl Pilkington would be the author of my biography. I know he’s not like a proper “writer” but he’d make it so damn funny:
“Alright? Got a biography here for you. ’bout some girl called Looona. Well, that’s not her real name, it’s just her online…name. Right. Well. Erm, it’s about ‘er life and stuff. Funny stories and things from her childhood, you know? Anyway. Here it is. Not that brill-yant. Some things are good but…a bit borin’. But that’s life really innit? You get up, go to work, come home, eat your tea, watch summat on the telly and then you go to bed and get up and do it all again.
Well, I mean I don’t do that. I eat tea and watch telly but…I’ve been around the world and stuff so…I don’t really need to werk. I do though, because that’s how you go mad don’t ya? Like when you get older and you do nowt you can go a bit mental.”
I might just get in touch with him and ask him about that actually. That would be really cool. If I wanted a serious biography though, I would probably choose Margaret Atwood for her poignant and insightful look at the world and society. Minus the green rabbits.