I am in the pub with Rupert. We are talking about planning a thing. It’s definitely going to happen. A thing involving being on the road, selling books and being in pubs like this one.
It’s definitely going to happen. Definitely.
In the meantime we have bitched about poets we don’t like and raved about those we love.
We have played the Ian McMillan game (based on his poem ‘Some Poetry Presses I Will Certainly Set Up in the next Three Weeks’: Dive Dive Dive is my favourite); we have argued.
We have sat in silence, staring at our drinks. Two blokes in a pub. In Exeter. It’s a Thursday.
I say to Rupert: ‘I’ve been thinking of starting another thing. About writing to poets and inviting them out for something, then interviewing them while we do it. Like taking Matthew Sweeney out for a curry. I bet he’d like that. Or a round of crazy golf with Simon Armitage. What d’you think?’
‘It’s a brilliant idea,’ Rupert says. ‘You should do it.’
‘You’re not going to talk me out of it?’
‘Why should I? It’s your idea. And it’s a good one. Go for it.’
‘So you don’t think it’s balls?’
‘No. I don’t think it’s balls. Sounds like fun. You should definitely do it.’ He drains his glass. ‘Another?’
He come back with new glasses, placing them carefully on the table so the beer doesn’t slosh. He’s even bought some crisps. It must be a celebration.
‘You could take Roger McGough to a Liverpool game!’
‘Probably an Everton fan.’
‘That’s not the point. Or Carol Ann to the opera.’
‘Brilliant! Except you can’t interview someone at the opera.’
‘You could just stay in the bar.’
‘Where could I take Don Paterson?’
‘Well, you could…’
‘Or…’
‘Maybe if…’
Neither of us knows what to say. Rupert shrugs; he reaches for a crisp.
‘It’s a shit idea, isn’t it?’ I say.
‘No, it’s a great idea. At least going for a curry with Sweeney. And the golf with Armitage. Even if you stop after those two, it would be worth it.’
‘Where would I publish them?’
‘Do it yourself.’
‘But who would read it?’
‘Me.’ He looks at me. ‘You should definitely do it. It’s a great idea.’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Definitely. I will.’
Anthony Wilson 
I love it! Your blog is often my first laugh of the day. Seriously good idea though! A radio programme perhaps…
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Thank you!
Great to know someone out there finds it funny.
Radio…or a book…who knows?
As ever with thanks
Anthony
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A book. Definitely!
This lovely blog entry reminded me of an idea I had many years ago (I have millions of ideas — it is a bloody nuisance) for making money to fund poetry publications. The idea was to hold auctions of personal ephemera belonging to well-known poets. You have to get them to donate stuff before they die of course — like a pair of Carol Ann Duffy’s specs, Wendy Cope’s shoes, a biro of Rupert Lloydell’s, a fountain pen from Gerry Cambridge, a tin whistle from Anthony Wilson. And so on. With a certificate in which the author signed and guaranteed the authenticity of the article. Of course, scandalous possessions, like knickers, would have got more attention. And Twitter, now (it didn’t exist then) would really help for updating people on the current astonishing high bid.
But instead, I just went back to work on the next pamphlet…
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Thanks for the whimsical morning laugh — it IS a great idea and would make a fabulous short documentary series (3 writers per half hour segment). I think the merchandise tie-ins (tee shirts, sticky notes, etc.) could also be quite wonderful. 😉
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I’ll take Rupert to a NFL game, as I know he likes rugby…..
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Absolutely. Rugby and Rupert are definitely going to appear in another post. Not football though. Never.
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It is a good idea. Still.
You should definitely do it – before someone else does.
A TV series perhaps?
Rupert
(it’s your round)
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It’s always my round x
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Smart piece. In and out, and you don’t even have to wonder where its headed. Liked the style!
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Thank you. I don’t know where it’s heading either.
Yours
Anthony
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