We may prate, of the circumstances around us and even ourself, but still keep the inmost Me behind it’s veil.

To this extent, and within these limits, an author may be autobiographical, without violating his reader’s rights or his own.

–Nathaniel Hawthorne, Custom House

~ D.C. Smith jumped ship, abandoning the crew he had commanded aboard the infamous Jolly Ho, when the armada discovered them off the Spanish mainland in 1750. Later, there were reports that he was in Tibet where the monks placed a price on his head because of his blasphemous translations of forbidden texts. In Bolivia he was known as El Monstro, and it was said he ate disobedient children. Since winning Nobel prizes for peace, science, and weight lifting, he has taken up writing fiction and introduces himself to his readers as nothing more or less than the narrator of their stories.

then again maybe

 

~ DC Smith was dubbed Fruff de Poncee at the knee of Kiki XII the Bowlegged for inventing a wig powder that could also be used to treat knickers rash. However, only a few months later he fled the Kingdom of Puftah with the infamous Effete Fleet Elite in close pursuit. The widely circulated rumors regarding Smith’s albinism had given rise to ultimately damning questions of paternity, when the Queen bore Kiki an albino heir apparent.
~The Fleet finally caught up with him on a little known island populated by one small tribe, who sustained their simple lifestyle by the bounty of the sea as they had for generations. When found, he had been living among these noble savages for months, in their bamboo village where there was a very nice library with internet access, which allowed DC to take a course called Evacuate Your Inner Byron from an accredited on-line university. Smith was at last captured after a dramatic stand-off that would take longer to describe then is presently appropriate but man, it was exciting.
~Immediately upon his return, the fledgling poet was condemned to have his eyes poked out, his nose cauterized, ears spackled, torso amputated, and to live out his life on a lice ridden mattress without being permitted to scratch. In spackled silence, he does not hear the lyrics that he composes aloud in endless succession to distract himself from the constant itching, but the guard assigned to enforce this harsh sentence is a great lover of poetry; and as such, though duty binds him to prevent the bard from ever alleviating his perpetual discomfort, that guard has felt moved to transcribe DC's verse for posterity.

 

 

or perhaps

 

~ DC Smith has encountered alternating success and failure in various pursuits. Recently, he became older than he was previously, and now finds that, embarrassment, regret, nostalgia, etc. aside, remembrance reveals a pattern of naivety giving way to accumulated experience, though at a frustratingly slow pace. Ever avidly anthropic, DC continues to put on pants as he has throughout his life, one leg at a time. He enjoys good feelings, good ideas and other things that are good. His turn-offs include bad things and deprivation of goodness.

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