Sir Me and the Slightly Bizzare and Wankerish Autobiography.

My boyfriend asked me today to tell him how my publishing deal first came about. So I told him a tale; a tale of tragedy, triumph, love, history and, at some point, fact (God knows how that got in there).

            Once upon a time, a little five year old boy decided he wanted to be a writer (clearly he had no ambitions to earn money). All his life he was encouraged by his family; particularly his grandmother, who used to buy him books from the Angus and Robertson book store in Ulladulla.

            The boy grew up (in a manner). He went to school. He went to high-school. He started university. Soon he finished his first novel. For two years he sent it off to publishers and competitions, but to no avail.

            Meanwhile, Angus and Robertson struggled, despite the grandmother's constant book buying (and the considerable effort on her grandson’s part to buy half the books in Australia and cram them into various spaces in his tiny bedroom). So soon Angus and Robertson closed down, and there was much wailing and gnashing of pears. But the owner of the old store was smart and wily and opened up his own independent book store.

            The little boy who had sort of grown up was still trying his luck with the Big Bad publishers around the state. But one day he woke up, went to his mirror and said; “Mirror mirror on the wall… screw it, I'm going to self-publish.”

            So he began to make many inquiries into different companies who could print his book. He saved his money, he drew book covers, and planned sequels. Before long he found a company which he could get to print his book. So the boy began to look for bookstores which would stock his book once it was printed.

            Verily one day he happed to remember the man and his store which had provided him with so many Birthday and Christmas presents over the years. So one fateful morning he decided to ring the bookstore and said "I am going to self-publish; I was wondering if you wanted to stock my book once it is printed." These were his words, and there was no begging nor pleading nor cries of “publish me for the love of God!”

            And the man, Sir Wishes-to-Remain-Anonymous said; "Nay! Do not waste your money on lousy printing and poor workmanship. I am opening my own publishing house and I shall publish the book for you!"

            And the angels did sing and the heavens did part and a heavenly host sang Hallelujiah, except they spelt it better.

            Thus the alliance was formed, and a star shone in the East over the town of Bethlehem, and Atlantis arose from the depths of the ocean, and the sword was removed from the stone, and Sir Wishes-to-Remain-Anonymous became the true King of England and the little boy suddenly realised he had to edit his book and became a hermit for the rest of his days.

            The end