This is the title of my memoir

Picture: the author at his writing desk, wearing a comically oversized facsimile of his own head and studying the figurine of Chewbacca he often ponders when searching for inspiration. Dated March 1st, 2013.


Introduction

There is a certain amount of egotism that goes into writing a memoir of any kind, let alone writing a memoir of your life when no one even knows who you are, or has any reason to be even remotely interested in anything you have to say.

It would be untrue of me to say that I possess that level of egotism; truth be told, I have no egotism whatsoever.

I live only for the good of others, with no thought to myself. No boasting here, just a statement of fact.

When I realized this about myself, the intrinsic giving selflessness of who I am, it was only natural for me to want to share it with all who should probably pay attention.

Let me speak plainly: if you are reading this introduction, take great confidence in knowing that this is exactly where you are supposed to be, and exactly what you should be doing right now.

I know who you are.

You are the John Turletts and Janey Tunks of this world; the lost middle peoples of a life that has accelerated to a super fun speed for the very rich, or crashed terribly for the very poor and homely.

You are stuck, you are nowhere, and in your wanderings, your desires for everything that has gone unfulfilled in your lives, you have stumbled here, into the introduction of the memoir of the book that will answer your questions.

Put on some tea, gird your loins, and begin reading more pages then you have already begun to read.