Word is that someone is writing David Bret's biography, and that they will "tell the truth".
Good luck with that one. Even I do not know the "truth".
So, who is this mysterious scribe who claims to know me well enough to write about me? One of the many personages who have shared intimate moments with me in the past forty or so years? If so, they may know a little of the truth, and have my blessing. Or is it a modern day Higham or some other great of his ilk guaranteed to see their work flying off the shelves? If so, no one has questioned any of those intimates with whom I am still connected.
Nope, it's some elderly crackpot with a record of zilch sales in the failed attempts they have made so far to follow up on their boasts that they are about to take the literary world by storm. One might say that if this person hasn't achieved anything in the eight decades they have been on earth, they are hardly likely to now, in their twilight years.
And of course, just as I have had other such tomes removed from sale ~ the adage being that while you can't libel the dead, you can certainly libel the living ~ this one will suffer the same fate.
The same will not happen of course, if I write a biography of my biographer...it will be one of those Nancy Sphinctergritzel-style spoofs that will by-pass any legal loophole libel suit my crackpot admirer opts to throw at me.
So, my dear, get cracking as George Formby would say! I'll even find you a publisher!