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Dave Gorman's Googlewhack Adventure [Paperback]

Dave Gorman
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Product Description

Review

"....excellent stuff from a genuinely obsessive bloke and one of the best comedians on the circuit today" -- ICE Magazine

"Following his hilarious search for his far-flung namesakes, this gently but persistently funny book is another to savour" -- OK Magazine

"This chronicle of his global search is the best kind of nonsense - totally stupid, incredibly pointless and absolutely hilarious" -- Scottish Daily Record

"Very funny" -- Daily Mirror

"very funny" -- Independent on Sunday

'Fresh, funny and very entertaining' -- Daily Mail

Book Description

Another hi-octane, pointless adventure from the 'Bill Bryson of stand-up' --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

From the Publisher

Another hi-octane, pointless adventure from 'the Bill Bryson of stand-up' --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.

About the Author

Dave Gorman is an award-winning comedian, storyteller and writer. He has numerous TV writing credits and was part of the double BAFTA-winning team behind The Mrs Merton Show. His live shows have won many awards and he is the only performer to twice win the Jury Prize for Best One Person Show at the prestigious HBO US Comedy Arts Festival. He was the host of Genius, which ran for three series on Radio 4 and then two series on BBC2. He has appeared in numerous other TV shows, including Absolutely Fabulous, The Frank Skinner Show, Late Show with David Letterman, The Tonight Show with Jay Leno and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. His documentary film, America Unchained, won the Audience Award for Best Documentary Feature at the Austin Film Festival. His 2013 TV show, Modern Life Is Goodish, made for UKTV’s Dave channel, saw him dissecting the foibles of modern life in six hour-long comic performances. It quickly established itself as the channel’s most successful original programme that year and a further sixteen episodes have been commissioned for broadcast in 2014 and 2015. His ambition is to one day become a team captain on Call My Bluff.

www.davegorman.com

--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

PART ONE

HOW I CAME TO WAKE UP IN HEATHROW AIRPORT ON NEW YEAR’S DAY WITH A TICKET TO WASHINGTON DC IN MY POCKET

one

Francophile Namesakes

Francophile noun: one who admires France and the French.

Namesakes noun: plural of namesake. A person or thing with the same name as another.

A lot of people find turning 30 a bit traumatic. It’s a wake-up call. They take stock of their lives, realise how little they’ve achieved and decide it’s time to take life a little more seriously. Perhaps the hope is that if they take life a bit more seriously, life might take them a bit more seriously in return.

In particular this seems to afflict a lot of people in what is laughingly referred to as the entertainment ‘industry’. At the age of 30 it seems that all singers want to be actors, all actors want to play Hamlet and all comedians want to write novels. This is, of course, an act of vanity and should be abhorred.

Now, as it goes, nothing could have been further from my mind as I hit 30. I’d been making a living of sorts, treading the boards in the name of comedy since I was 19 and on my thirtieth birthday life conspired to take me to the millionaire’s ski resort of Aspen, Colorado where, having already performed a show of my own, I was then taken to a theatre where I watched one of my childhood heroes, Steve Martin, perform live. He did a routine about his singing testicles. There was a strange dignity to the performance and it brought the house down.

Francophile Namesakes 7 The lesson was clear; turning 30 didn’t mean I had to grow up. On 2 March 2001 there was not one single part of me that wanted to be taken seriously. As far as I was concerned, life was good, I was having fun and I could see no reason to change my course.

A year later, however, it hit me like a train. I woke up on my 31st birthday and was gripped by a sudden desire to be taken seriously. It was time to stop acting the fool and behave like a grown-up. (This may or may not be connected but among my presents was a novel called Shopgirl. Written by Steve Martin; childhood hero, testicular vocalist, comedian, movie star … and novelist.)

I’d often idly talked about writing a novel, but I’d never done anything about it. All of a sudden that just wasn’t good enough! Me, not yet a novelist?! At 31?! Oh, how I’d let myself down! Oh, how I’d let the world of literature down. It was time to do something about it. It was time for David James Gorman to be taken seriously.

I sat down at my computer and looked at a blank screen. Here goes, I thought, here comes the Booker Prize, let’s see what the world thinks about me when I’ve finished this. I stared at the blank screen, locked my fingers together, stretched my arms, palms out and cracked my knuckles because that’s how I’d seen writers do it in the movies. Then I put the kettle on. I wanted a cup of tea but coffee seemed more like a writer’s drink. Maybe I should start smoking? I could think about that later. Eight cups of coffee into the day and there were still no words on the screen. This whole writing-a-novel malarkey was looking a lot harder than it seemed. That night, as I stayed awake, shaking the caffeine through my system, I came up with a plan: at ten o’clock the next morning I would ring my agent, Rob.

‘Hello, Rob.’

‘Dave.’

‘I’ve been thinking ... I want to write a novel. What do you reckon?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Dave. You’re very busy. I’ve got a lot of work lined up for you, things are on a roll, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’

‘Well, OK, Rob, if that’s what you think. I’ll give up on the whole crazy idea. It was a pipedream anyway.’

That was how I imagined the conversation would go, that was my plan. After all, I was very busy. My diary was full and so were the theatres. It wouldn’t last forever but the sun was shining and surely any agent worth his salt would want to make hay. If I was told not to write a novel, that was better than just failing to write a novel, wasn’t it? That way I could get drunk in a few bars and complain to strangers about how I wanted to write a novel but that circumstances just wouldn’t let me. I could be a frustrated novelist! Oh yes, I could make drunk strangers in bars take me seriously, and to be honest, wouldn’t that be enough? Admittedly this plan contained only a tiny fraction of the kudos of winning the Booker Prize but it involved absolutely none of the work.

I picked up the phone.

‘Hello, Rob.’

‘Dave.’

‘I’ve been thinking ... I want to write a novel. What do you think?’

‘Good.’

‘What?’

‘I’ll make a few calls.’

‘What?’

‘Set up a meeting.’

‘But what about the theatres?’

‘They can wait.’

‘But ...’

‘I’ll call you back.’

‘...’ --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.

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