My other bio
For years, I’ve maintained multiple versions of a personal biography that has been used on conference sites, publishing sites, and in books. There is a long version, a short version, and a 50-words-or-less version. There are versions for print, and versions for the web. There are even headshots to go alongside them—multiple looks, in multiple sizes and resolutions. I’ve used these things to communicate who I am, what I do, and what I’ve done before. I’ve used them to highlight achievements to clients, build credibility as a speaker, and simply create context for people visiting my own sites. For the most part, I have relied strictly on facts in these biographies. My story has been told through which facts I have included, and which I have not.
The other day, my taiko sensei asked me to supply a bio for our taiko group’s website. For the first time, I was being asked to communicate these things for a completely separate part of my life—one hardly anyone knows about or understands, and relatively few have experienced in person. And I had to do it in 70 words or less.
It took me quite a few tries to get through it. I probably rewrote the following three sentences twenty times before they felt and sounded right, and properly conveyed my reasons for being a taikoist.
This bio is also about facts. But even more, it’s about the story.
A lifelong drummer frustrated by the neverending pursuit of rock-and-roll glory, Robert had hardly touched his drumset for several years. The day he saw Fushicho Daiko perform at Arizona’s annual Matsuri in early 2008, that all changed. Inspired by the power, showmanship, and physicality of taiko, he has studied under Esther Vandecar, Ken Koshio, and Eileen Morgan ever since, and is now part of multiple groups.
Funny how hard that was to achieve in 68 words.
