Bios are a necessary evil. There, I said it, er, wrote it.
Let me explain. I used to hate reading bios because it seemed like an exercise in navel-gazing, which, to me, will cure insomnia faster than an Ambien.
Why do some people lose all creativity when it’s time to share their expertise?
A bio is not a car manual or grocery list of your accomplishments.
vegan cheese
tofu
glutten-free cookies
See. No one wants to read that unless she’s shopping at Trader Joe’s.
Social media put the B (as in bold and badass) back in bios. When one is faced with limited real estate for her words, she tends to get creative and show her personality.
Former FLOTUS Michelle Obama’s Instagram bio reads:
“Girl from the South Side and former First Lady. Wife, mother, dog lover. Always hugger-in-chief.”
Hit the follow button on her page, if you haven’t already.
These two sentences sum up who and what she is. This IG bio is the highlight reel of Cousin Shelley’s highlight reel. With guns like hers, I would’ve added a bit about possessing tank top worthy arms, but that’s just me being picky.
Social media aside, most bios clock in at 200 to 300 words, which is too long. Most people don’t read the whole thing and less that half will remember the snooty awards you earned.
Okay, already, I get it: You. Are. An. Amazing. Professional. But the reader needs to know something personal too, and preferably with fewer, more colorful words.
Before I suggest ways to spice up your new bio or remix the old one, let’s get some things out of the way.
Yes, the bio answers the 5 W’s and 1 H, i.e. who, what, where, why, when and how. And the rule of thumb is this: Bios are written in third person, unless it’s the about page for your (or your company’s) site, then it’s first person, please.
First person? Gasp!
No one enjoys writing in first person because saying: “I became a New York Times Best Seller at 25” sounds pretentious. I know. But guess what? “Marisol Galvez became a New York Times Best Seller at 25” is the same exact statement, except it’s in third person. Get over yourself.
The moral of the story is this song is about you, boo—no matter which POV you choose.
There are some free fill-in-the-blank models and templates available online, which is fine for basic people, but that’s not you. (Check out this post if you want to improve your writing skills.)
Most are arranged like this:
Name + title + what you do
Accomplishments + awards + big wins
Degree + location
This is why I used to hate reading bios. Yes, these are the elements, but remember when I mentioned the car manual and the grocery list? Don’t go this route.
If I’m forced to gaze into the deepest part of your navel, at least make it interesting. Tell me the bacteria in your belly button is related to Asiago cheese made in Vicenza, Italy.
One of thee best about pages (which is a bio with another name) is from my friend in my head Danielle LaPorte.
Peep the first few lines:
I’m all for the Light—the illumination that leads to liberation. My definition of holistic includes green juice and very loud rock ‘n’ roll; pop culture and eastern mysticism; justified anger and deeply sweet empathy. I love the game of business and multimedia.
Love, love, love this.
Danielle is far from being basic. And even though it’s first person, she doesn’t sound conceited. Long live green juice and justified anger!
Take your bio up a notch by doing the following:
Start with a quick, fun/passionate/moving story. Most people skim blocks of text for memorable, juicy tidbits in the beginning, middle and end, so hook ’em with the first line. As sales people say in business, “don’t sell the steak, sell the sizzle.” Make me invest time with you.
Pad the top. If you earned a medical degree from Cornell University at 17, that’s first paragraph material. Don’t bury the lead. Better yet, make it part of your quick, fun/passionate/moving story.
Create a mini-version. If the average bio is 200 to 300 words, write a tight and bright replica that’s 50 to 75 words. This is suitable to be read from the stage, say if you are guest speaker at college graduation, or printed in a non-profit’s journal with limited space. (If you are a control genius, like moi, you never want a well meaning someone to take editorial license with your achievements and good deeds.)
Get personal. Tell us about your two pet snakes—Rocky and Adrienne. Or that time you came in first place in the limbo skating (yes, this is a real thing) contest and earned a spot in the Guinness Book of Word records. Or lost the first round in the Air Guitar Championship (again, yes this is a real thing). Tidbits like this are gold and unforgettable. Who doesn’t want to be besties the limbo skating winner?
Read it aloud. The words look smooth on paper, but you don’t know which parts flow or sound awkward until it’s read with your outdoor voice. Ask a trusted friend to read the final version back to you. When she stumbles on certain words or doesn’t pause during super-long sentences, it’s time to revise and edit. Break verbose passages into bite-size chunks. And dead the $20 words because a cheaper one will do just fine.
Add a phonetic pronunciation of your name. Listen, my name has four vowels waiting to challenge everything you know about the alphabet. Latin, African, Arabic and Asian names aren’t going to just roll off stranger’s tongues. Help them out with a dash of hooked on phonics, especially if someone is going to read your bio from a podium.
End on a high note. Most people sign off with: “Nicole Lee lives in Cincinnati with her two cats.” Sigh. That’s so anti-climatic after learning about Rocky and Adrienne, right? Instead, build anticipation for what’s coming next with a line or two about your new book, TV show or project. Include your website, invite them to follow you on social or join your email list, so they can really see you in action.
