About the Author
Stripe-tailed with downy head plumage, amphibian up to ankles truncated by knicker flannel, the Reorganized Latter Day Saint kind, she writes with either claw each time the thunder comes. They published her without knowledge—just the way she prefers. You won’t catch her ass on a video or an Insta-selfie. Self-taught violinist in a Columbian cave covered in vines, blooming with bats. Finger painter. Multi-talented muckraker, pie shaker. Titanium tempered. Fudger of bios. Paris Review couldn’t resist her fakery. Ploughshares published her while fucking up that big contest. So many tsunamis not to surf, but the sun beats fuchsia as editors bumble fuck like chicken knuckles through slush piles. She writes without eyes, with her feet and teeth gnashing. Call her beguiling, profound, it, un-locatable—just not “him.” Yes, there are manuscripts. And phone numbers. And lovers. More than she can count, some of them pretend (which is better). And oh, the writing. Somewhere in another country, an editor peels open the envelope, and red sand streams onto the desk, forming an oblong spiral—a publishable one.
(I know this wasn’t on the final prompt list, but, hey, I wrote something). Thanks Benjamin. This all looks like great fun. More later.
Hi Koss,
So much a master of language, the words are extraordinary! It’s a goddamn great bio of wit and humor! “And oh, the writing. Somewhere in another country, an editor peels open the envelope, and red sand streams onto the desk, forming an oblong spiral—a publishable one.” LOVE SO MUCH! Absolutely hilarious! YES!
love this, there’s so much to interact with in the brain, but i have a soft spot for “she writes with either claw each time the thunder comes” at the moment. [ps i am sorry i am keeping this short for now, i am fading, but i will be back tomorrow!]
i really love “the sun beats fuchsia” and the writing without eyes as well, and the pretend lovers, the instability of the narrator, the continual transformation. and in all that color, still so much emotion — “some of them pretend (which is better)” is the kind of wry turn of phrase i would have worn outwardly as a badge when i was younger and still wear inwardly as an adult.
Holy moly, that is a great first sentence:
“Stripe-tailed with downy head plumage, amphibian up to ankles truncated by knicker flannel, the Reorganized Latter Day Saint kind, she writes with either claw each time the thunder comes.”
Surreality and joy of language are synonymous, and this is a fantastic example. Every sentence a surprise, a rhythm.
Send this baby out!
Cheers,
JC
This is a gem, Koss! A wonderful ‘about the author’ that takes the reader places they would never expect, especially in a bio. You do a really nice job of mastering the vocabulary with the strange, all with a vivid voice.
“she writes with either claw each time the thunder comes” !! That’s a poem title right there alone, and then redirecting attention to the bio with “fudger of bio” is a nice touch.
Couple suggestions I’d like to see here — much like Kiik’s example (and every bio), I’d like to see the name in that first sentence. So maybe instead of “she writes with either claw” it could open like: “Koss (No Last Name) writes with either claw” — Or you could bring it in at the very beginning — “Koss (No Last Name) is stripe-tailed with downy head plumage. Amphibian up to the ankles…” — just an idea! I’d also like to see Ploughshares and Paris Review removed, but I think that’s an aesthetic thing on my part. It brought me back into the real writing world a little bit? Food for thought. And lastly, I almost want the ending to stop on the word “spiral.” What a visual! I think removing “a publishable one” might add a bit more weighted depth on the landing?
Oh, and tiny typo, but I think it’s “Colombian* cave covered in vines” (great line)
Lastly, lastly, if you’re looking for more material on false bios, I’d suggest checking out the book ‘Michael Martone’ by Michael Martone. Every page is a new reworking of a Michael Martone bio, and they beautifully go off the rails.
This is so fun! A tour de force of language. Like Benjamin, the references to Ploughshares and The Paris Review push me out of the piece a bit. Otherwise, I love this!