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So I'm writing my life story.


Bojangles

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I decided that on my 30th Birthday I'd begin writing my life story/memoirs. I never thought I'd actually go through with it after the first page but after two months I just finished the 88th page. I've had some crazy times growing up and whenever people heard the stories they said "this should be a book." so now it will be. Anyone else ever try to write anything like this and get it published?

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the memoir market is slim and pretty niche when you break it down. unless you're willing to dish all the shit (and it better be the shit that housewives and casual readers want to hear about) on oprah, chances of having a "successful" memoir aren't too high. with a few exceptions--david sedaris, jay mcinerney, frank mccourt, and so on--most authors go the veiled life experience route because if you can work all your "crazy wild" experiences into a more cohesive and engaging novel, you've got a better shot at getting published through something beyond a vanity press.

 

the publishing world sucks, too. unless you've got some connections you're going to have your ego assraped and then thank them for doing it. not to discourage, though.

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After much encouragement from the masses over the years, I am doing this as well.

Documenting my life.

I am still in the mental process of it.

I haven't gotten around to actually writing anything yet.

The route I am thinking about choosing involves just taking certain Myspace bulletins over the years and putting them in book form.

Even though my life has drastically calmed down in the last three years.

I am sure there are still adventures that would make for an entertaining read.

 

I am not so much into writing proper paragraphs.

Or even so much into editing.

I figure someone else can handle that for me.

One of my supporters has been telling me to write a book for a few years now.

I don't name drop, but he was totally on that White Rapper Show last week.

He will publish it.

It will be real hip hop.

And sell millions.

 

My life now is boring.

I tell dude this all the time.

The same things all the time.

He says life can't always be exciting.

And it is time for me to settle down.

So I am.

 

Good luck with your book though.

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can we read it?

I wasn't gonna' push it on you guys, but sure.

 

Here's the synopsis first:

 

I'm not an author and I don't claim to be one. This is the true story of my life. I'm writing it because every time I've talked to people in depth about the adventures I've had growing up they say "this should be a book!" I finally decided they were right. The story begins with me at the age of four living the American dream. Just another kid living in the city with his parents. Soon enough their own vices and differences would tear our word in two directions, never to be the same again. I left with my Mother and we began our new life, unfortunatly she wasn't ready for the path she had created. My Father went his own way and was seen less and less over time while my mother and I faced struggle after struggle. My Mothers alcoholism soon condemned us to a life of eviction notices and welfare checks, while my Father went chasing after the life he had before he was a family man. As the situations got more severe for us, my Mothers addictions grew to try and keep her numb to the facts around her. Our own family began to disown my Mother and her child due to her inability to maintain a sober life.

 

With no options left, my Mother soon turned to anything that looked like hope. We were thrown headfirst into the world of homeless shelters and abusive boyfriends. Everytime we got out of one of these situations, a new one would arise. After years of this vicious cycle my Mother also discovered that she was terminally ill which perpetuated her drinking habit. The moves in and out of shelters and gutter level housing continued all through my early years. The only thing that began to hold me together was my new found artistic abilities. As I grew The ablities grew, as did the problems surrounding our lives. We eventually land in a neighborhood on the upper west side of Cleveland where we would continue moving spuraticlly throughout the apartments in the area. This would be the setting for my pre-teen and teen years and become the place where my life would take shape as a person and an artist. Life long friendships began and families were created and lost all in this neighborhood. Eventually the ultimate loss would come with the death of my Mother.

 

Where would I go? What would become of my own life now that my last family member is out of the picture? All the questions begin to be answered in the coming months that follow. All the turmoil and challenges continued to put me at the edge of death every day. From streetlife and drugs to personal emotions and love all of these things would test me and shape me as I grew into a young man. At any point it would've been easy to give up and take a number of ways out that could've lead me to a life in prison or to my grave. I knew I was destined for great things, and whatever hadn't killed me thus far was making me stronger. I knew all I had left was myself and my art, and I began using my talents to my fullest abilities. Growing up as an artist in the city I immediatly took a liking to graffiti at an early age, this was becoming the direction my art would turn to. The story continues into my teen years discovering the sub-culture of graffiti art and the lifestyle that comes attached to it. From gaining a mentor turned life long friend and brother, to earning fame under the night skies with cans of paint.

 

Graffiti art would carry me through the toughest of times, eventually gaining me recognition in the local music and club scene. Now in my late teens and early twenties I had an all or nothing attitude. I had overcome all the obstacles of the last twenty years of my life and watched all of my family die off and disappear around me. I was a lone soldier ready to take on the world if need be. Even though I was sliding by in life, angst and anger burned inside of me. With these feelings came the need to vent onto the world. I used these feelings to fuel a graffiti career that lasted over a decade, ending with my name being on almost every surface in Cleveland. I no longer cared about family issues, money wasn't a factor in my life. I was consumed by my new identity as a graffiti artist. I was no longer Bob Peck, I had become the pseudonym "Lost". Where would this new life of street fame lead me? Would I make it out alive? These questions and many others all get put to light in the pages ahead. Having my name in the spotlight eventually even led me to a reunion I never expected or knew could happen almost 30 years later. I'm not an author, I'm just a man who made it through everything life threw at him and came out ahead in the end. Where does the egg fu young come into play from the title? Read on and find out.

 

 

(...Yes, I know it has the whole cliche graffiti thing goin on in it, but it's part of my life. Yes...I wrote Lost, no I'm not the original. Please don't judge the book on these things in this forum.)

 

If you guys really want to read it, I post a new page every Tuesday on Myspace. Here's the link http://www.myspace.com/mylifeat30

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call me a faggot or whatever, I dont really care. but I write in a journal everynight. started when I was 17 to 18. stopped for a few(and regret it) and been doing it consistently for the past four months or so. I dont know, my life aint nothing special, but its mine and I want to be able to read about what I was doing now, later, for some reason.

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Writing your life's memoirs is a terrible idea. Even if you somehow make it into celebritydom like say, Hunter S. Thompson, you will be putting the world through YOUR BULLSHIT. I mean I have a Jesus amount of respect for dear old donut-head* HST, but 1400 pages split between two books fuck NO. Please make it quick, little detail, (because you can't write) and maybe a paragraph elaborating upon the title (which I wrote for you):

"I was born, I ate, I pooped, and now I'm about to die."

 

 

edit:

*= "Donut head? That's not exactly terms of endearment where I come from. What pray tell do you mean 'Donut head'?" He shot himself, cheese dick!

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I decided that on my 30th Birthday I'd begin writing my life story/memoirs. I never thought I'd actually go through with it after the first page but after two months I just finished the 88th page. I've had some crazy times growing up and whenever people heard the stories they said "this should be a book." so now it will be. Anyone else ever try to write anything like this and get it published?

 

no offence, but in three sentences or less, explain why anyone apart from you grandkids would want to read your memoirs.

 

ie, very short summary of your life?

 

 

edit - you already did

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I had a book on my coffee table. like a guest book from a wedding or some shit. And everytime somone said something dumb or funny we would write it in the book. It was chalk full of funny shit and terrible shit we did. My mom found it in a moving box and read it, know she knows how evil I really am first hand. not evil but you know you dont want your mom reading or knowing everything you ever did. Thats whats holding me back from writing my story too. ouch.

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I had a book on my coffee table. like a guest book from a wedding or some shit. And everytime somone said something dumb or funny we would write it in the book. It was chalk full of funny shit and terrible shit we did. My mom found it in a moving box and read it, know she knows how evil I really am first hand. not evil but you know you dont want your mom reading or knowing everything you ever did. Thats whats holding me back from writing my story too. ouch.

 

I actually had a book published about coffee tables about ten or twelve years ago................. My idea was the book actually folded out into a coffee table itself....................The problem came in the process of the promoting of the book....................IN an appearence i made on the Regis and Kathy lee show. As i went to take a sip of my water beverage.............. Regis commented that i was,.............." A HANDSOME MAN " I was overcome and spit-up my water...........................Which was not a good look.:snowman: :snowman: :snowman: :snowman:

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