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The true date of my birth is unknown. It's been so long that even I don't remember. But people commonly consider it to be on the 23rd, though I'm not sure why. It was in 1564, at least.
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I got married, but on the marriage certificate, they called us "William Shagspeare and Ann Hathwey." They're not allowed to make words up. That's my job. Oh well. She was impressed by my wig. You could call it love at first sight. Oh, I was 18 and she was 26.
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Our first child, Susanna was born. She was also baptized. I wanted to name her something dark and edgier, but my wife wanted her to have a normal name...very boring, really.
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And then my wife had twins too. A boy named Hamnet (not Hamlet) and a daughter named Judith. They were named after some friends of ours.
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I wrote my first play, a little thing called Henry VI Part One. And this was all well and good until all theaters were closed down three years after because of the bubonic plague. So much for my plays, huh?
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Well, in all that time that the theaters were closed down, I got into poetry. It was during this time that I published my first work- Venus and Adonis. The next year, the theaters reopened. Thank God, no one likes poetry anyway.
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Hamnet died at age 11 because of unknown causes. I'm starting to see why everything I wrote was on the tragic side...
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During this whole year, I wrote "Othello," "King Lear," "Much Ado About Nothing," "As you Like it," "Julius Caesar," and finally, "The Merry Wives of Windsor." I'd like to believe that this is the time when I obtained my nickname of "Swagspeare."
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My father died, and then a good friend of mine was sentenced to death. This is what motivated me to write a Hamlet. From then on, everything I touched became gloomy, much like high schoolers when they're forced to read my writings...
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From 1608 to 1613, I began my final writing streak. I wrote "Cymbeline," "The Winter's Tale," and "The Tempest"- all of which were a little on the lighter side. Later on I wrote "Henry VIII, Two Noble Kinsmen" and "Cardenio"-which was been lost in history.
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I died on my 52nd birthday. Though saying "died" is subjective since I'm currently making a time line of my life. But who has time for death when you have twitter? Never have truer words been spoken.
