What to Put in a Bio

I had to write a short bio for an upcoming writers’ conference. I never know quite what to say and tried looking at some old program books to see what other people had written about themselves. The bios I looked at were all written in the third person, so it didn’t exactly come across as though they were talking about themselves, but then it was pretty obvious they were written by the subject of the bio.

I’m not so good as raving about my accomplishments. When I looked at mine, it was pretty cut and dried. Joe Friday would have been proud because it was just the facts, ma’am. What I write, what I studied after college, and where I live.

Since I’d technically missed the deadline, I was going to go with the same bio, but the person collecting them offered me more time. I took it as a nudge that I should come up with something different.

Here is what I finally sent in:

All Betty Hechtman ever wanted to do was to make something out of nothing. Like taking a ball of yarn and turning it into a scarf, or taking a dictionary full of words and turning them into a mystery series. Writing the national bestselling crochet series featuring Molly Pink and the Tarzana Hookers for Berkley Prime Crime is a dream come true.

It is true that making something out of nothing has been my life’s goal. I remember the exact moment I made that decision. I was in third grade in Mrs. Reed’s class. We didn’t exactly get along, but that’s another story. Anyway, a girl named Angela sat in front of me and I watched as she took out a cigar box of crayons. They were a sorry lot, all were broken hunks of waxy colors and some were just nibs. Then she showed off the picture she’d made using those crayons. It was fabulous and I was awed that she’d turned those nothing pieces of crayon into something so wonderful. And right then I knew that was what I wanted to do. To take something that appeared to be nothing and turn it into something wonderful.

I started doing it with sewing. I taught myself how to make doll clothes out of some of my old baby clothes. A friend and I went to some place I now realize was very creepy and collected scraps of fabric from a manufacturer and we made doll clothes out of those. They wouldn’t have won any awards on Project Runway, but at least my Ginny doll was no longer naked.

Later, I moved on to making my clothes and my mother’s. I could take a couple of yards of fabric that cost very little and turn them into a wonderful dress. I turned scraps of fabric into purses, scarves and headbands and sold them at an art fair.

As an art major, I turned tubes of paint into portraits, white tee shirts into batik prints, copper plates into etching that could be printed.

When I learned how to crochet, a skein of cotton yarn that cost barely a buck could become a wash cloth, a cowl, or a cell phone sock. Even better I could take the time I spent sitting on a plane and with a ball of yarn and a hook, turn the time into a bunch of granny squares, or part of a scarf.

And always there was writing. All those random words became stories, a newspaper column, magazine pieces, screenplays and finally my mystery series. Soon to be joined by another.

I’m not sure what I wrote counts as a bio. There are no facts about where I live or went to school, but I think it does tell who I am.