Tuesday, 23 February 2010

Bald Authors

Who are your favourite bald authors? Don't know any? Let me guide you through the wonderfully exciting realm of the slaphead scribe, the piebald prosemaster, the depilated dilettante.

1. Fyodor Dostoevsky

This romping tiger started his literary career sweeping up for famous authors. He began writing prose poems about cabbage while cleaning up after Dave Eggers (a notorious guzzler of granola and banana milk), then moved on to full-length novels set in 19th century tsarist Russia.

Known for his slapstick humour and light-hearted prod at suicide, penury and Russian feudalism, Fyodor has become a hit with the hip people in NYC and Galashields. His latest work, Lemme A Fiver, was published by Artichoke Books.

He isn't a full-blown slaphead, merely short up top. Nevertheless, that combover ain't fooling no-one. Tip: if you want to make a name for yourself as a bald author, it pays to do the full cranial shave.

2. John Barth

This children's author is known for his clever female characters and staggering talent at making short men appear better at checkers than tall men. His legs are known for their ability to stretch between continents, making them a popular alternative to airplane flight (though he has stopped the service for now).

His novels are very very short and often written in Arabic for a laugh. It is said he frequents a cave with a pack of giraffes on loan from Norwegian blogs. His resemblance to the actor Ron West has been noted.

His latest novel, The Slightly Abashed Whelk, is not out yet.

3. Saul Bellow

Known in the UK for his time on drums for pop group The Flatulent Sopranos, Bellow emerged as one of the finest knitters of his generation. After a meeting with Martin Amis, he decided not to pursue prose, and instead wrote songs about bandages that leaked too much pus.

Later on, he wrote a novel and it won the Somerset Michael Barrymore Award for the best novel about an accidental pool drowning. The novel was reprinted in forty countries upside down, which was rather stupid.

His baldness is age-related, though it is believed he might have been bald once as a baby (perhaps a few moments following birth).

4. Ralph Ellison

In 1969, he wrote and directed a movie about space and things that was used by NASA as the official moon landing footage. To prevent the government smothering him in his sleep, he changed sex and became a member of the Bangles.

In his 70s, he wrote the novel My Life as a Bangle and won the Nobel Prize For Books That Make Good Kindling. His baldness occurred during the transfromation from white Californian woman into black octogenarian.

He is also proficient at the abacus.

5. David Shields

Within this quite spectacular baldie dome rests the mind of a absolutely atrocious watchmaker. His career twisting little cogs and fitting teensy bolts into watches ended on the first day when he walked out after a few minutes.

His bald pate is too remarkable to merit me writing any spuriously true biographical details, so please – appreciate this quite astounding slaphead. Thanks.


  1. I can't believe you didn't include Frank Frink. Actually, I can't believe you didn't realise he wears a toupee. Two pee! To pee! He he. Aw shadd-ap.

  2. *falls over* Oh, this amused me. And I wondered where the giraffes had gone. Mari won't talk about it.

    My favorite bald author is Peter Straub, scribe of perky pastoral romances.

  3. Ah, this explains so much. Now do the ones with bad knees! I fell on mine, thrice, so I might qualify. Unless you by "authors" actually mean people who have written books. Then I don't qualify.

    And Tami is right. There is nothing to talk about. This will have to be between Mr Bald and the giraffes. Besides, I don't do giraffes anymore. I've decided to change the name of my blog. The Sluggity of Digressions sounds much more mature anyway. Fitting for a potential author with potentially bad knees, I'd say.

  4. I fell on my knees this morning, too... and it occurred to me that they were already bruised. I think someone has been bashing me in the knees in my sleep.

    I hope he'll bring the giraffes back. Slugs are so unpredictable.

  5. These knee-falling incidents are a conspiracy on behalf of the bald authors. They want to graft knee-hair onto their heads and need unwilling amputees. I think.

    Please keep the giraffes. I like them, they give me hope that my neck may one day grow so long.

  6. My Pappy always said, 'To some, gawd gave brains and to others, hair.' I suddenly feel the need to shave.

  7. Oh, but the slugs might give you hope that one day you can produce that much slime. And no, I wasn't hinting at any future novels of yours. I feel confident they will be slime-free.

    But I promise to make an effort in reconciling with my giraffes as soon as Mr. Knee Hair returns them.

  8. My new novel, Cruella and the Hairy-Kneed Norwegian Slugs, will be published next year by Penguin.

  9. *falls over* Do we get an advanced copy for being such fine muses? [/glomming onto Mari's limelight]

  10. You get a whole three-page nude spread. And royalties.

  11. Tami, I believe I was sliming in the lamelight, if anything...

    Mark, I wouldn't dream of taking any money from you. I'd donate them to orphaned slugs in Cambodia.

  12. i'm learning a whole new literary history :)