True Idiot Grit

A confession: I don’t really like blogs. In fact, I hate the fuckers. A second confession: I’m rehashing material I wrote back in March 2010. Remember then? Then, when times were good? I don’t, not really. At the time though, I wrote: I don’t particularly like blogs, writers, writing, blogs about writers, or writing a blog about a writer.

Little has changed, except now I have the after-effects of a head injury to deal with as well.

I’ve lost rather a lot over the last year – wife, mind, home, hair, dignity, muscle definition – but losing consciousness at the weekend was the most disturbing. I’d been drinking for 30 straight hours and on the way to the pub – the pub, for fuck’s sake – I just collapsed and was out, with my eyes wide open, for at least a minute. Friends who were there were “terrified” but thankfully paramedics and doctors put me back together again and after four to five hours of being checked out and monitored and silently (and deservingly) scolded I was let out onto the streets of Archway to carry on flying around like a banshee.

Ridiculous, isn’t it? Don’t answer: I know it’s ridiculous. The second most ridiculous part was falling asleep in a wheelchair whilst waiting for a chest X-ray. The first most ridiculous part was that as I was drifting off I thought: “I bet this happens again. I bet this isn’t the last time I fall asleep in a wheelchair.” This is kind of worrying and makes me think that I must be completely out of my fucking idiot mind.

But before I find myself falling asleep in a wheelchair again, I’ve decided to wrestle this ill-fated joke shop of a project to the ground. It wasn’t always going to be this way. Since I landed pretty much the best agent in the country, the idea was to let the pitching part of Pitching the World just kind of evaporate. My book, when I get round to writing the book, was going to gradually insinuate that the idea of pitching 642 magazines is a ridiculous one and one that can’t really be done, but what can be done is to use that framework to make some hilarious swipes at the journalism industry whilst simultaneously losing my wife, mind, home, hair, dignity and muscle definition. Seriously, if you have a copy of the Writers’ & Artists’ Yearbook and flick through it, you’ll realise that pitching all of those magazines to a not-dog-shit standard is impossible. They’re too specialist and particular and seemingly impenetrable to lay people. It really is impossible.

Which makes me determined to do it. It makes me determined to do it because I’ve flapped around and fucked up everything I’ve ever tried and I’m not going to flap around and fuck this up. If I do this, I realised, I’ll be the first – and quite possibly last – person in the world to individually pitch 642 magazines. That, I hope, is something to be proud of. That, I hope, is something I can carry around with me forever. That, I hope, is something I can smile about the next time I find myself sleeping in a wheelchair in a hospital.




9 responses to “True Idiot Grit

  1. Ah Pitch, that`s the stuff, a big finish.
    Make us think you`ve had enough, are giving in, have admitted defeat, then smack us in the face with a big finish.

    Get stuck in there Laddy. Remember Alamein. Give `em hell.

    . . . . and anyway, doesn`t the book and a handsome cheque rely on a big finish?

  2. Fucking hell, that’s proper, Keith Richardsesque commitment to the cause; not of pitching, but of getting wasted. Thirty hours? I bow. I am glad you are still with us, though; take care dude.

  3. If Pitching the World is the written equivalent of Rocky – and it is, it definitely is – then you two are my cornermen. Ta.

  4. So you’re drinking again? Tidy. I knew you could do it. x

  5. Bingo Bartholomew Barlow

    Thought I’d gone didn’t you pitchy?!
    No, not me. I was just waiting for the good stuff to come around again.

  6. What have you gained over the last year? wisdom, experience, a fridge magnet? Banshees scream btw, did you do that around Archway? – would love to have seen that, especially if you were in a wheel chair at the same time. Oh and I know they scream as I spent most of my out-of-control teenage years dressed in black and being told to ‘Stop screaming like a Banshee!’ – hours of fun (for me) – you should try it.

  7. Oh I forgot, the fridge magnet was for your Nan.

  8. Had it gone bad then Bingo? I can’t tell anymore. And is that some clever psychological trick you’re pulling JS? And did you know, as the author of the 500th comment, that you win a prize Marge?
    Lots of questions there; but don’t worry, you don’t have to answer them.*

    *But please answer them

  9. I am so excited Pitchy! I have only ever won 2 prizes in my life: 1. A pair of raspberry edible knickers at a hen party and 2. Drama prize at school – A book on Shakespeare for my role miming JFK in slow motion as he was shot in the head. Wining a prize for the 500th comment on PTW is by far the best!

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