Writing Themed Autobiographies
Or still crazy after all these years
I’ve written four different autobiographies. And I expect to write more. Vanity lets me imagine my posterity finding some interest in them. But they’re really for me. They’re effective as writing exercises and sometimes mind-blowing as personal explorations.
I write my autobiographies against specific themes. My first is titled Autobiography of a Paul Simon Fan. Not because I’m a particularly ardent fan. I started writing when my children discovered “You Can Call Me Al” on their own and began singing it around the house. It amazed me because I was their age when I first heard that song. I started putting memories on paper, and quickly realized that Paul Simon was tethered to a lot of my personal history.
I remembered seeing Paul Simon in concert on January 17, 1991, the night the war broke out in the Gulf. So I wrote about driving to pick up my date for the concert, turning on the radio and first hearing that Operation Desert Shield had become Desert Storm. When I reached my date’s home, there was a sticky note on the door that read, “Come in, Greg. We’re upstairs watching the news.” I wrote about the concert that night and how Paul Simon came out without fanfare, addressed the crowd, and suggested we have a moment of silence before the show began. This was the first war of my lifetime, and I wrote about how afraid I was that the draft would be reinstituted.
I remembered that my first Paul Simon album was a cassette tape of Graceland stuffed in my Christmas stocking. This prompted me to write about our family Christmas traditions.
Paul Simon was a frequent guest on Saturday Night Live, which let me write about how much my high school friends and I loved watching SNL during the Dana Carvey years. We’d plan our Saturday evenings around whose house we’d watch the show at, and whether we’d order Little Caesar’s or stop by the potato bar at Wendy’s.
I wrote about discovering movies like The Graduate (with the soundtrack that catapulted Simon & Garfunkel into pop culture) and Annie Hall (which featured Simon as a record producer who steals the titular character from Woody Allen).
I wrote about lyrics I found especially meaningful and how the The Concert in Central Park always seemed to air on PBS the Sunday night before the first day of school and helped ease my anxieties of a new year.
I wrote about how my mother’s best friend Nancy — an English teacher — showed me how the song “Graceland” parallels Virgil’s Aeneid, and how Nancy died from a tragic asthma attack a few years later.
My Autobiography of a Paul Simon fan is only twenty pages long. I don’t talk about where I was born, what my parents were like, or my favorite foods. But those twenty pages give a much deeper insight into how I think and who I am than any list of dates or disjointed anecdotes ever could.
I’ve since written Autobiography of a Book Lover, Autobiography of an Outdoor Enthusiast, and Autobiography of a Sting Fan.
I have plans to write autobiographies as an amateur athlete, art lover, writer, and Utah Jazz fan.
Often when someone considers writing their autobiography, they attempt to cover their lives from birth to the present. And a lot of those early facts come across as pedantic. It’s good to know when someone was born, who their parents were, and where they went to school. But it’s not great storytelling for any potential readers. And doesn’t offer much self-discovery for the writer. You don’t want to end up a cartoon in a cartoon graveyard.
Whether you’re a writer looking for a prompt or an exercise, or a genealogist hoping to leave your own breadcrumbs for posterity, I think you’ll find writing a themed autobiography very fulfilling. Here’s how to get started.
Pick a theme
Thinking back to the season before / Looking back through the cracks in the door (“Hearts & Bones”)
Don’t overthink this. It doesn’t have to be the all-encompassing focus of your life. You don’t have to be an art history major to write Autobiography of a Museum Patron. If you’ve always loved sit-coms from Family Ties to The Office, go ahead and write Autobiography of a Sit-Com Lover. Maybe you could writer Autobiography of an Science Teacher. Or Autobiography of a Scuba Diver.
Pick a theme that spans decades
The vision that was planted in my brain still remains (“The Sound of Silence”)
If you just started running during the pandemic, now’s probably not the time to write Autobiography of a Runner. But maybe your parents listened to a lot of Bette Midler when you were a kid. And maybe you have strong memories of crying during Beaches. And you were a big Seinfeld fan and remember her cameo. Maybe Hocus Pocus is a guilty pleasure. And maybe you still get goosebumps when you hear “The Rose.” If so, go ahead and write Autobiography of a Bette Midler Fan.
Allow yourself to go off topic
I’m on my way / I don’t know where I’m going / I’m on my way / I’m taking my time but I don’t know where (“Me & Julio Down by the Schoolyard”)
Think of your theme as a path you always have to return to. But you can go off the path as often as you like, for as long as you like. I knew that the lyrics of “Hearts and Bones” referred to Paul Simon’s brief marriage to Carrie Fisher. So I wrote a little about Star Wars. And I wrote even more about my understanding and experience with bipolar disorders which Fisher lived with and which may have inspired to the lyrics, “The act was outrageous/The bride was contagious/She burned like a bride.” Mental illness and childhood Star Wars memories aren’t immediate ties to Paul Simon. But they were worthy tangents.
Don’t try to write everything
Slow down, you move too fast / You’ve got to make the morning last (“The 59th Street Bridge Song”)
You’re not writing the definitive piece on your life. You’re exploring memories. Stick with your theme. Once you feel you’ve exhausted your memories on that theme, pick another and start writing.
Don’t edit yourself
And I could say ooh ooh ooh / As if everybody knows what I’m talking about (“Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes)
Don’t try to craft your paragraphs for other readers. Put down your memories as they come to you. Write for yourself. See where your memories take you. If you want to edit, wait until you’ve completed your autobiography.
Write regularly
Why am I short of attention? / Got a short little span of attention / And, whoa, my nights are so long (“You Can Call Me Al”)
Regularly set aside 10–15 minutes a day to mine your memories against your theme. Don’t try to get everything down at once. You’ll burn yourself out. I wrote my Autobiography of a Paul Simon Fan in about eight days. But my 42-page Autobiography of an Outdoor Enthusiast was written over eight months. I’d carve out 10 minutes each morning when I arrived at the office. If you miss a day or two, that’s fine. Just write as regularly as possible. You’ll know when you’ve finished.
Just focus and write your own story
In Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott encourages stymied writers to begin with their childhood memories. It’s a helpful exercise. But she warns, “the amount of material may be so overwhelming that it can make your brain freeze.” Writing a themed autobiography gives you more focus. It narrows your options to something you’re passionate about, and could give others greater insight into your personality. Whether you’re a novelist in need of a prompt or a family historian, give a themed autobiography a try. Chances are, you’ll want to write more than one.
