Elliot Page has just released an autobiography. It is, delightfully, called Pageboy. (I am happy if he is more comfortable in himself in the past, but on a personal note, I kind of wish he’d chosen a name where I didn’t have to constantly double-check the number of letters in it. Sincerely, a graduate of Eliot Junior High School.) This is, considering what he has to say, a perfect title. Which adds Page to the list of “Celebrities Who Get the Concept of How to Name Your Autobiography.” It’s an elite list, and it’s one I’m always happy to expand.

As it happens, I am a devotee of the art of the celebrity autobiography; I would actually consider doing a full-on column on the subject, should there be interest. Some of them have better names than others. With all the love in my heart for Henry Winkler, Being Henry: The Fonz . . . and Beyond is not as good a title as Ralph Macchio’s Wax On. Bono’s Surrender is not as good a title as Out of the Corner is for a book by Jennifer Grey. Steve Martin and Alan Alda are both repeat members in the category, with Steve Martin’s first being Born Standing Up and Alan Alda’s first being Never Have Your Dog Stuffed: And Other Things I’ve Learned, even if that colon gives me pain.

There are several options. Alda tends to go for the noticeable, ones that would be good no matter who’d written the book. Things I Overheard While Talking to Myself is pretty solid, and it makes you want to pick up the book to read the back cover if nothing else. No matter what you think of Prince Harry and what he has to say, Spare is a solid title. Sharp and bitter and a good reference. Leslie Jordan’s How Y’all Doing?: Misadventures and Mischief From a Life Well Lived definitely lets you hear his voice, as it’s a phrase strongly associated with him. Jodie Sweetin went, of course, with unSweetined, as why wouldn’t you?

The fact is, you don’t really need to be told what a celebrity’s autobiography is about. Because it’s about the celebrity. If you’re reading Harvey Fierstein’s memoir, you are doing it because you assume it will be interesting, and I Was Better Last Night tells you pretty well what you’re getting into. Behind the Scenes: My Life in Rhinestones implies that you’re going to get to know Dolly Parton a little better than her public persona, and that would be intriguing in a way that the generic title some celebrities might have used would not.

I’ll admit this trend isn’t limited to celebrities, but with my love of the genre, it’s something I’ve noticed. Still Foolin’ ‘Em: Where I’ve Been, Where I’m Going, and Where the Hell Are My Keys? lets you hear Billy Crystal’s voice in your head. My Lucky Life In and Out of Show Business isn’t as good a Dick Van Dyke book title as Keep Moving; he improved between books, clearly. The Meaning of Mariah Carey is not great; Betty White’s If You Ask Me (And Of Course You Won’t) is. No Time Like the Future is a clever reference to Michael J. Fox’s career. Memoirs of a Professional Cad draws you in even before you know it’s George Sanders.

Well. We could go on. Brat: An ‘80s Story, by Andrew McCarthy, holds a lot of weight if you already know who Andrew McCarthy is—and why would you read it if you didn’t? Here’s the Story: Surviving Marcia Brady and Finding My True Voice lets you know it’s Maureen McCormick without her having to put her name in it. Born a Crime, of course, gets right to the heart of Trevor Noah’s childhood. Baby Don’t Hurt Me: Stories and Scars from Saturday Night Live reminds you immediately of the thing most people know Chris Kattan from and tells you the story’s going to go places. So many excellent choices.

I don’t know what I’d call my own autobiography. It hasn’t come up yet. I am, on the other hand, willing to offer my services to any celebrities who want a good title. Carol Burnett, why don’t you get in touch with me before you name your next book? Your titles are solidly fine, but with a little work, you could be great.

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