Everything Out
Hello Everyone,
Robert Wringham here. Writer-Comedian, Escapologist, Bibliophile. You know the one.
I had a beautiful newsletter lined up (edited, formatted, everything) in the shiny new application installed at my website. It didn’t work. You win this time, Substack. Again. Apologies to everyone who hates Substack. I’m working on it.
It’s February 2024 and all is well. Here is the news.
Issues 14 and 15 of New Escapologist are SOLD OUT online but we recently expanded into the real world thanks to these cool shops.
I’m making a film with Mark Cartwright and Anthony Irvine about comedy legend and creative soul, the Iceman. We’re basically turning my book into a documentary. I was down in Bournemouth this week, filming away.
I’ve finished editing John Robinson’s second book about Momus. It was published this month and it’s a physically very beautiful book. Plump too.
I’m writing a piece about my relationship with Richard Herring’s blog for the next issue of From the Sublime… magazine. The working title is “My Pet Man: 22 Years of Warming Up.”
I’m preparing for my live show in March. The posters are all over town, though the one at the Sparkle Horse pub keeps getting taken down. I keep creeping back under cover of morning to put it back up again. If you happen to be near Glasgow on March 13th, please come along. It’s going to be a lot of fun.
In less great news, I heard yesterday that I’m Out is being discontinued (all 1,300 remaining copies to be pulped) by Unbound who aren’t happy with sales despite their stupid cover and title change (that I advised against) and not lifting a finger to market it. I’ve got seven books under my belt now, but the stiff letter I sent to Unbound is one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever written. If you ever want to own a copy of this book, now's the time to strike.
Reading
I’m halfway through The Freewheeling John Dowie by, well, John Dowie. Dowie (I’ll stop saying Dowie in a minute) was a great alternative comic in the ’80s who quit the business when it became a business. He’s great. Stewart Lee mentioned him in the interview he gave us for the Iceman film a couple of weeks ago and I suddenly remembered “of course, I must read that book!” Unfortunately, it was published by Unbound (see above) who made an arse of things and is now out of print. You can buy it expensively second hand. Mine was free because it was damaged in the post and I demanded a refund. The book is brilliant: a grumpy memoir about cycling in Europe. It’s like Dervla Murphy but properly funny and realistically miserable. I love it so much.
I also recently read Werner Herzog’s excellently-titled memoir, Every Man for Himself and God Against All (which everyone should read but only if they’ve already read his more interesting Guide for the Perplexed) and Bonjour Tristesse by Françoise Sagan. The latter turned out to be translated by Heather Lloyd, my old friend Helen’s mum. I didn’t realise until I read her translator’s note and saw that it was signed off “Glasgow, 2013.” I enjoyed the unexpected sense of connection.
Travel
I was on the English south coast this week, filming with Mark Cartwright and Anthony Irvine and our little team. I’ve already said that. Pay attention.
Samara and I are going to visit Lisbon next week. Like Lanark, all I need is some sunshine.
Time Wasting
Most weeks, we attend a particular Monday night pub quiz. It’s a waste of time, money, and health but we continue to attend for reasons I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it’s because we keep WINNING, which means free beer. Oh yeah.
For TV, my partner and I have been watching old episodes of Jeopardy! after we enjoyed the recent UK version despite it being hosted by an awkward old taxidermied bear. On my own, I’ve been watching Inside Number 9, which I gave up around the fourth season but am enjoying catching up with. “Merrily Merrily” is my favourite story so far.
Some films I enjoyed recently were that Scala!! documentary, The Holdovers (which was so surprisingly good that I can’t stretch my imagination in a direction capable of criticising it – it’s a proper film like The Graduate or something, which I’m told is “mid budget”), and Poor Things (which was good but I found myself annoyed by the London bits not being set in Glasgow instead; why resist the call to elevate something?). I saw all of these films at the GFT. Support your local art cinemas, you sods.
Pun
If I ever commit adultery, I’ll say to them “where have you been all my wife?”
Samara’s not so sure about that one.
Pitch
Once Upon a Dog.
A sitcom about fleas.
Gray Day ‘24
Alasdair's been gone for five years now and I still miss him. I didn't know him personally because I was too starstruck to introduce myself on any one of the countless times we passed on West End streets, but his physical presence was important to me.
Some thoughts on Alasdair Gray.
Making Fun. Or, The Front Foot.
What is the point in writing light or funny stuff when the world is so darn horrid? And not just funny stuff, why write anything? Or create anything? Or do anything not germane to The Struggle.
Full essay here.
What I Look Like At The Moment
Here’s my picture of the “month” so you can continue to monitor my ongoing decay. This time it was taken by Samara in Meadow Road Coffee in Glasgow where we stopped to recaffeinate and so I could get a pebble out of my shoe:
That's all for now. Thank you again for your attention and for continuing to think well of my one-man cultural renaissance in this merciful breather between pandemic and war. 💀
Live, live, live! You are alive and it is good.
👉 Rescue an I’m Out from the threshing machine.
And don't be a stranger. How are you?
Robert Wringham
www.wringham.co.uk
