How would you start your autobiography?

Question

Opening sentences, please

Answer 1

It was a blustery winters afternoon on the 8th of July 1969. There were many happy, peaceful people milling about in the small capital of a South West African country. My mother was not one of them. She was screaming. Apparently rather loudly. It was the song that heralded my coming to this worldly state of being. Needless to say I started my life with an impressive vocal response of my own before the doctor could give me the traditional spank on the bum, probably from sheer fright and auditory terror.
My first days in this wonderful world were uneventful. Except, perhaps, for the time when a hospital technical labourer lent across my sleeping form and began drilling a hole into the wall above my cot with an electric hammer masonry drill. Needless to say, after getting the second largest fright of my life, I responded with vocals that would have made my mother proud. The brick chips and what was left of the plaster was gently dusted from my little writhing pink body.
As the months progressed calmly I am sure I began to look at the world that was to be home for many years a little kinder. My thoughts must have lingered on that perhaps my first experiences were not a true reflection of this wonderful colourful and serene world. If those were my thoughts, as I am sure they were, they were shattered a few moths later.
It was four moths later that I was lying in my pram in the garden of our home. Which had rolling lawns leading down to pretty flowerbeds and tall trees. It was a warm summer’s day and my parents were indoors while my brothers kept an eye on me. Now there is something you may not know about Africa that bears mentioning here. In Africa summer storms are sudden and usually very violent. It is no exception to have thunder and blazing forked lightning strike while the sun is shining. We call it "Jackal is marrying Wolf's bride". Well I was to meet Jackal that afternoon up close and personal. Lightning struck the ground between my pram and the house scorching the lawn. How it missed the tree I was under or me for that matter is a miracle I was only to contemplate many years later. For at that moment all I was doing was giving the resulting blinding flash and crash of thunder a go for its money with my allready well practiced vocal ability.
As I write these words I think back on those events in the early formative years of my life and I think. "Hey, I turned out alright. Well, sort of anyway."
It would only be many years later that I discovered that bright flashing lights with loud repetitive music gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside. A sense of belonging, of coming home. I was to become an incurable Raver. Tracking the best clubs over the world: Cape Town, London, Madrid, Athens, Ios, Istanbul, Ibiza..........

Answer 2

Bearing in mind that autobigraphies should be written when you've had a long and full life not like the current trend for 20 year olds to spit one out. Mine would be something like this:

I was born many years ago and there are probably very few left. But, let me tell you about the bits inbetween.

Answer 3

I started mine with
" This is a letter to my children and theirs:

This is the autobiography of ________ ________ ________. At the time of this writing, I am age __________. This autobiography is to recreate a time I lived through that no longer exists. A window into another world, a simpler world of much less pressures and stresses. A moment in time."

Answer 4

I would probably start with my earliest memories, like the forest in the back of my old house or the old lady that I was left with when my mum had to work - I would describe how it was funny what memories we keep and how they make the person we become. Then I would lead into it further.

Answer 5

'First, they took the food off my plate. Then later, they locked me in a half-lit room, and the boys took off their clothes.'

I don't think I could write my autobiography, as remembering would make me too depressed.

Answer 6

At first it was dark, I sensed movement as if I were travelling along a tunnel and I could hear muffled screams of pain. Suddenly there was bright light, I could see people in blue and green scrubs, I had room to stretch. Then I realised, it had finally happened... I was born!

Answer 7

I would start with

"Poor fool who was, I'm sure, tricked into buying this book. I pity you. However since you have already spent your hard earned money on this hundred page rant, posing as literature, I may as well tell you a little about myself..."

Answer 8

i was born on ( and give my bday) and the world was never the same horny hayley had arrived lmao no sorry joke lol but id start from when i was born and just say things about what i remember about my childhood goodluck with it heres a goodluck kiss mwah x

Answer 9

The first time I remember seeing my dad I was about 3 years old, it was dark outside and he was staring at me throught the living room window. It scared me to death......

Answer 10

I was conceived in the backseat of a '73 nova. Dad said "trust me the rhythem method works!".