Ever wondered what Joe Biden is doing now that he’s not pretending to run the country anymore?
Well, after the beachside strolls, the occasional public mumble, and a couple of stiff jabs at his successor from the sidelines, the 46th president has joined the time-honored tradition of post-presidential cash grabs: he’s writing a memoir. Or at least, someone is writing it for him. Let’s not kid ourselves.
According to The Wall Street Journal, Biden’s team at Creative Artists Agency negotiated a deal “in the range of $10 million” with Little, Brown & Co., a division of Hachette Book Group. Not bad for a guy whose memory has become the subject of bipartisan concern and late-night jokes.
That might sound like a juicy chunk of change to regular Americans—you know, the ones working two jobs to afford groceries these days—but in the rarefied world of presidential publishing, it’s basically the bargain bin.
In fact, The New York Post didn’t mince words, calling the $10 million deal an “embarrassing blow” compared to the towering sums commanded by his predecessors.
Let’s go down memory lane. Bill Clinton snagged $15 million for My Life in 2004. That’s $5 million more than Biden got, and Clinton didn’t have to convince anyone he could still tie his own shoes. And Barack and Michelle Obama shattered records in 2017 with a $60 million mega-deal that covered both their memoirs. Say what you will about their politics—they at least knew how to cash in with style.
Meanwhile, Donald Trump—who’s written more bestsellers than Biden’s taken coherent questions from reporters—never bothered with a traditional presidential memoir. But let’s face it, The Art of the Deal probably covers most of his worldview anyway.
According to The Wall Street Journal, “Presidents and their spouses routinely shop memoirs after their time at the White House… Such books can provide a major source of income, and help the public figures frame their legacies.”
And therein lies the comedy. Because Biden framing his legacy is like trying to paint a mural with disappearing ink. The man barely remembers what day it is—how exactly is he going to write four years’ worth of nuanced reflections?
That’s the question many people asked when news of the deal dropped. One social media user sarcastically suggested the title The Malarkey Memoir, which frankly sounds more honest than whatever sanitized fluff his ghostwriter will crank out.
Even Sean Spicer, former Trump press secretary, chimed in with a brutal dose of reality: “Joe Biden is reportedly getting a $10 million book advance (for a book he won’t write or likely read),” he posted on X. “To BREAK EVEN — they would have to sell a minimum of 350,000 copies. NOT. A. CHANCE.”
Spicer’s not wrong. At $10 million, the publisher better hope there’s an army of coastal elites and college faculty eager to bulk order Biden’s bedtime stories, because the average American has already tuned him out. The cognitive decline jokes aren’t just coming from the right anymore—they’ve gone mainstream.
As for Biden himself, he’s apparently “working [his] tail off” on the manuscript, which is a cute way of saying someone else is working overtime to turn old press clippings and sanitized anecdotes into a coherent narrative.
The book is expected to cover his presidency and his time as vice president under Barack Obama, but let’s be honest: the real challenge isn’t the content—it’s credibility. With reports circulating for months about efforts to cover up Biden’s cognitive decline, readers might reasonably ask: “Is this really his story, or just a re-election ad that missed its deadline?”
And then there’s the health issue. Earlier this year, Biden announced he’s battling an aggressive form of prostate cancer. It’s unclear whether he’ll be doing a traditional book tour—or any at all. With that in mind, this memoir might become less about legacy and more about posthumous branding.
So here we are: a man whose presidency was marred by inflation, foreign policy blunders, and more gaffes than a blooper reel is now being handed $10 million to relive it all in prose.
Whether it turns out to be an earnest attempt to “frame his legacy” or a glorified coloring book remains to be seen. But one thing’s for sure: if you’re looking for historical accuracy or firsthand reflection, you might want to wait for the audiobook—and hope they get Morgan Freeman to narrate.
