my memoir, fourteen thousand fragments will reveal...
the chaos that ensued when i, the offspring of wizards, was adopted by muggles.
the time i was thrown out of a baseball game not for cussing the umpire, but breaking his little bandy legs.
that my four storied visits to the payne county courthouse were not really for petty misdemeanors, but for murder in the first, possession with intent to distribute, grand theft auto and assaulting officers of the law (i bested four of them in one bar brawl!).
that i'm not really a man at all, but a profiteering woman who has finally found her voice!
in all seriousness, it was one hell of a week for the memoir. we found out that author james frey fabricated the story of crack fueled confrontation that kept oprah up at night. moreover, j.t. leroy, the hardscrabble, west virginia pimp who wrote an auspiciously stunning debut wasn't a pimp, wasn't from west virginia and wasn't even a man - but an ambitious, female phone sex worker.
as many have said before me, the most disturbing thing about these revelations is that the authors (and apparently oprah, who called into larry king's show to defend frey, claiming that his blatant fabrications have apparently led millions of addicts to find "redemption") are remarkably disinterested in the truth. apparently, since memoirs rely on memory, which is occasionally faulty, you can fabricate your past, embellish your experiences and do whatever you need to do to write a bestselling book.
so, now that truth no longer matters let me ask you, what's in your memoir?
Conference . Vancouver BC
1 hour ago
10 comments:
This is kinda like writing your own obituary.
Agent B memoirs: circa...1992 - Meeting 2/3 of Emerson, Lake and Palmer.
After being rudely scoffed at for not taking the pen cap off quick enough for a requested autograph (because I guess washed up prog rock drummers have "people" to do that for them), I say, "I don't need your fat-ass, arrogant signature anyway".
Yes...that's what happened.
hey, b isn't that old!
here is what i would redact:
i am 6 foot tall, in perfect health and shape, and have a thick Mel Gibson - esk head of hair.
also i invented the internet, the PC, and electricity - in that order
Well, you all know that I and Al Gore invented the internet and then I decided that I would jump out of the industry to pursue my climbing academic career at Richland Community Grade school...I was 7 at the time what did you expect. That was the same day that I decided not to become a nun.
This SO sounds like that speech Dr. Evil gives at the father/son therapy session, making meat helmets and all that.
My memoirs will entail me growing up under the watchful gaze of circus performers as I make my debut on the highwire, gracefully executing pirouettes and performing a modified Lindy Hop dance while my father makes lions jump through flaming hoops of fire and my mother bites the heads off live chickens in the freak show tent. I will also have grown eight inches, lost 20 pounds, and have a head full of long luxurious curly hair that I spend my spare time in braiding while traveling the world and performing in front of royalty and commoner alike, until I settle down in a small town where I live out my days in relative obscurity, surrounded by the ephemera of my life. Hopefully, I will not be found by firemen, after days of disappearance, crushed by said ephemera.
I went out to be the new James Bond in 1995, but was just barely edged out by an elder Pierce Brosnan. I still feel like a pulled off being a brit better than he did.
The following year, I was passed over for Gary Cherone as the lead singer for Van Halen, even though I felt our rendition of "Jump" brought life back to the band.
After spending the late nineties in Tokyo playing professional baseball, I was trading to Boston in early 2004 to be the ballclubs ace. However, while moving a couch up my then tight apartment stairwell, I tore my ACL. which ultimately lead to my retirement from the sport, and facilitated the signing Curt Schilling.
beautiful post.
hmm...in my memoir, tommorrow, afte a fruistrating seven hour meeting, during which not one member of the christian ed commitee listened or respected anything i sad, i boldly announced my immediate resignation, managed to stay connected with the community of youth, and was immediately offered a job at an inner city emergent church, working to create christ-centered community amidst at-risk youth.
all that and, i drive a sweet electric vespa that possesses the magical power to keep me dry - even in a seattle winter.
I think when my memoirs are published they will hold some memorial concert in celebration... looking back on my life and legacy. Music greats will sing songs (for example Bruce Hornsby's moving tribute with Mandolin Rain) while an 800 number will flash on the screen to order the book or the audio version read by acting great, Pat Hingle. They will also subsequently issue a soundtrack with songs inspired by my memoirs and Toad the Wet Sprocket will reunite in tribute of my inspiring journey through life.
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