PROLOGUE

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I’ll cut to the chase. You’re about to read a book about a young, eccentric author who decides to write a biography of someone. He doesn’t know I’m here, so he’s under the impression that his readers know less than I’ll reveal. He’s not very subtle about it though. In his mind, he’s clever and witty and that merits him to write a ‘’biography with a twist’’. It’d be more apt to call it an ‘’unconventional biography’’. Between you and me, I’d rather call it a ‘’biography with an endearingly annoying narrator holding your hand through it’’. In any case, you will only see this font twice. The next time will be after the book is finished.

Rosemary Loise Rivers
The name doesn’t exactly scream, ‘originality’. That doesn’t necessarily mean it’s unoriginal. For starters, when people hear the name, ‘Lois’, they expect it to be spelt just like that. Hers, however, has an ‘e’ where the name is supposed to end. Sounds a tad unnecessary but if that doesn’t spell originality, I don’t know what does. Well, the word originality spells originality so- Never mind, you get the point! Granted, besides that, her names are pretty common. But this probably has little to do with the name rather than the one who bears it. So who does bear it? The answer: Zazzy Rosie, Para-Rosey, Rosie, Loise Street, Rosie-O-Donald, Ros. That’s who bears it. If the last line or two bears confusion, here’s the explanation: The first two names are her online handles for social media that will remain anonymous. The second one is what I’m calling her. The others are what her closest friends call her, to my knowledge.
This was probably a good idea. I’m always feeling unsatisfied when I’m inclined to do this sort of thing. Most people have a filter, but when I look at someone, my mind is instantly flooded with a self-generated first impression. So chances are, if you walk up to me in the street and I’ve looked at you all the way, your first impression will really be you trying to convince me of what my mind already thinks of you. Which is difficult. So basically, if you have a serial-killer vibe going, you probably won’t get the chance to convince me that you’re just a grocery-store owner with a proclivity for caps and sunglasses….Because I’m cowardly and I have fast legs.
OK, back to the ‘story’ I get carried away a lot. A statement I will stay true to throughout this literation. Whenever I have to fully describe someone, I’m met with one annoying, little thing; limitation. Not today. Okay, this book won’t take a day so I guess what I mean is, ‘’Not in the next [insert number] days’’. As far as this particular woman is concerned, I have a lot to say. There are a number of emotions and opinions, all of which will remain unmentioned now, that hinder me from verbally letting my hair down.
I thought a simple biography would be derivative. Anyone with the knowledge of words can write a biography. It can even be written in point form just to prove that the author knows enough about their target person to write a biography. A biography, to me, also seems like a tenth-grade-final-exam essay with guidelines, or a bicycle with training wheels. I’d like to think of myself as more than an author in this situation. I’ve always been terrible at guided essays and last time I checked, I was able to ride a bike without its training wheels. I doubt I ever needed them in the first place. I’d like to think that my intellect exceeds a simple knowledge of words and that the person I’m writing about is more than a mere ‘target’. I’ve been told that a prologue is supposed to convince the reader of the benefit awaiting them when they read the book. I don’t think there’s any possible way I can do that on one page. Honestly, it’d take me 48 pages to credibly convince you of that. I don’t have that kind of time. With that in mind, I begin chapter 1. Come along…


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