“A laugh-out-loud comedy of suburban despair in the great tradition of David Nobbs and Sue Townsend.” Jonathan Coe
8pm Croft Hall – Tickets £11
This your chance to hear Brian Bilston – known as ‘the unofficial poet laureate of Twitter’ – talk about and read from his first novel, which is liberally interspersed with hilarious poems on the mundane and the profound.
Middle-aged and divorced, Brian is determined to change his life for the better and he is convinced that poetry will be his salvation – every day for a year, he will write a poem. But when he joins the local Poetry Club he soon finds himself in over his head.
“At last, a genuinely funny comic novel.” The Times
“Brian Bilston turns the base metal of comic verse into gold.” The Guardian
“A brilliant comic novel.” The Spectator
“One of the funniest novels for years.” Reader’s Digest
Nobody must find out about this unique gem, because I’m giving it to EVERYONE, and I want to appear clever and discerning. It’s a very funny/touching/novel/ poetry kinda book all about the big/little stuff, and above all, it’s eminently wrappable.’
‘Glorious. I will be astonished if I read a more original, more inventive or funnier novel this year.’
Adam Kay, author of ‘This is Going to Hurt’
‘The English comic novel, whose death this year was announced prematurely, is actually alive, well and in the safe hands of Brian Bilston. Here is a wonderful, laugh-out-loud comedy of suburban despair in the great tradition of David Nobbs and Sue Townsend. And it comes, of course, with the added bonus of Bilston’s poetry, sparkling here with all the wit, intelligence and humanity that has won him more than 50,000 followers on Twitter.’
Jonathan Coe, author of ‘Middle England’
‘Highly original, genuinely funny and clever, with a gentle humanity in between the lines. Brian Bilson should be Poet Laureate.’
‘In the future a new word will enter the language: a Bilston, which will denote one of those times in the day when we see the world from a perspective that is strange, wonderful and packed with a kind of gleaming joy. This book is a clock ticking with Bilstons.’