Stand Up Tragedy: Tragic Horror

SUT-Poster-OCT

Join us for Tragic Horror: an evening full of tragic and horrific acts

For the final Stand Up Tragedy live show of 2014 we’re going to go out with a scream! This tragic take on a Halloween special features steampunk storyteller band The Mechanisms, James Hamilton from twisted sketch group Casual Violence!, a scary Victorian story from the new popular reciter James McKay, music, werewolf erotica, tragic jack-o-lanterns and more!

As with all our shows, this one will be podcast  via iTunes and Soundcloud.

‘takes in everything from music to comedy and is characterised by an emphasis on truth’ –The Independent

‘an entertaining bunch of melancholic oddballs’ –The London Word

WHAT: Stand Up Tragedy: Tragic Horror

WHERE: Hackney Attic, 270 Mare St, London E8 1HE

WHEN: 7.30pm-late, Saturday 25th October

HOW MUCH: £5 in advance, £7 on the door

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Stand Up Tragedy aims to make audiences laugh until they cry and cry until they laugh. It’s a monthly live show and podcast where people stand up and tell tragedy. We make you sad; we make you think; we make you smile. Expect music, comedy, fiction, spoken word, true stories and more, all playing up to the tragic form but not always taking it too seriously. The night ends, not with a whimper, not with a bang, but with a cathartic sing-a-long.

At Stand Up Tragedy we combine established acts like Stewert Lee, Josie Long, Eddie Pepitone, Grace Petrie, Rob Auton, Sara Pascoe and Andy Zaltzman with new and upcoming acts in an evening of tragic variety based around a theme. Performers often write new material especially for the night and relish the opportunity to put a tragic spin on what they do. The nights are recorded and put out as a weekly podcast.

 

Call for Submissions:

Earlier this year we relaunched the SUT blog with an updated look and a new focus. Like its raucous live counterpart, the Stand Up Tragedy blog will be a place find the humour of hurt, the tickle of tragedy and mirth of misfortune. Selected work will posted each Friday beginning 1st August and promoted via the Stand Up Tragedy London monthly events, the podcast and at the Edinburgh Fringe.

What: short stories (fiction and non-fiction), flash fiction, poetry, and experimental form (that can be digitally distributed) that fits with the theme of tragedy. Or tragicomedy. Or comitragedy.  Ideal length is 250-1000 words, though shorter pieces, and longer work that can be serialised, will be considered. Editorial support or feedback can be offered to those who request it.

Format: Word doc or docx – double spaced—name and title on every page and paginated, please.

Deadline: Rolling.

Please email to akshoosmith@gmail.com with “SUT Submission” in the subject line.

In the press:

“Laugh? I Nearly Died: The Rise of Stand-Up Tragedy” (Independent, July 2012)

“Stand-Up Tragedy” (London Word, January 2013)

One of the Guardian’s “Ten Great Storytelling Nights” (March 2014)

“Stand-up comedy with Sophocles and Justin Bieber during World Cup football” (John Fleming, June 2014)

Listen for yourself via the podcast: https://soundcloud.com/standuptragedy

Stand Up Tragedy: Tragic Friends and open submissions for the new look SUT Blog

SUT-Poster-September

You are discordially invited to our Edinburgh Fringe reunion party: Tragic Friends

The best tragedy at the Edinburgh Fringe was found at Stand Up Tragedy as the show returned for another successful year as part of the PBH Free Fringe. Performers bringing an hour of daily tragedy to the stage included Stewart Lee, Eddie Pepitone, Rob Auton, @ProResting and more. By combining established and upcoming acts, a different blend of sadness and catharsis was created in every show. We were also podcasting the highlights of the run, which we are continuing to share on iTunes and on Soundcloud.

To bring the spirit of the tragic Fringe back to London, Stand Up Tragedy will be jerking the tears and staring into the void with a line-up of old friends and new discoveries. If you missed the Edinburgh adventure, or if you just can’t get enough tragedy, get the full experience at this special reunion show.

‘takes in everything from music to comedy and is characterised by an emphasis on truth’ The Independent

‘an entertaining bunch of melancholic oddballs’ The London Word

WHAT: Stand Up Tragedy: Tragic Friends

WHERE: The Dogstar, 389 Coldharbour Ln, London SW9 8LQ

WHEN: 7.30pm-11pm, Thursday 25th September

HOW MUCH: Pay What You Like

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Stand Up Tragedy aims to make audiences laugh until they cry and cry until they laugh. It’s a monthly live show and podcast where people stand up and tell tragedy. We make you sad; we make you think; we make you smile. Expect music, comedy, fiction, spoken word, true stories and more, all playing up to the tragic form but not always taking it too seriously. The night ends, not with a whimper, not with a bang, but with a cathartic sing-a-long.

Stand Up Tragedy creates evenings of variety based around a theme. Performers often write new material especially for the night and relish the opportunity to put a tragic spin on what they do. The nights are recorded and put out as a weekly podcast.

 

Call for Submissions:

To celebrate the triumphant return of Stand Up Tragedy to the Edinburgh Fringe, we are relaunching the SUT blog with an updated look and a new focus. Like its raucous live counterpart, the Stand Up Tragedy blog will be a place find the humour of hurt, the tickle of tragedy and mirth of misfortune. Selected work will posted each Friday beginning 1st August and promoted via the Stand Up Tragedy London monthly events, the podcast and at the Edinburgh Fringe.

What: short stories (fiction and non-fiction), flash fiction, poetry, and experimental form (that can be digitally distributed) that fits with the theme of tragicomedy. Or comitragedy.  Ideal length is 250-1000 words, though shorter pieces, and longer work that can be serialised, will be considered. Editorial support or feedback can be offered to those who request it.

Format: Word doc or docx – double spaced—name and title on every page and paginated, please.

Deadline: Rolling.

Please email to akshoosmith@gmail.com with “SUT Submission” in the subject line.
In the press:

“Laugh? I Nearly Died: The Rise of Stand-Up Tragedy” (Independent, July 2012)

“Stand-Up Tragedy” (London Word, January 2013)

One of the Guardian’s “Ten Great Storytelling Nights” (March 2014)

“Stand-up comedy with Sophocles and Justin Bieber during World Cup football” (John Fleming, June 2014)

Listen for yourself via the podcast: https://soundcloud.com/standuptragedy

Stand Up Tragedy: Taking the Tragedy to Edinburgh and open submissions for the new look SUT Blog

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Stand Up Tragedy is returning to Edinburgh to be part of PBH’s Free Fringe. Aiming to deliver a much-needed dose of misery to the festival, this time they’re coming for a full run—maximum tragedy. Each day is a different line-up, with acts including Josie Long, Rob Auton, Mathew Highton and Richard Tyrone Jones.

WHERE: Banshee Labyrinth (Venue 156), 29-35 Niddry Street, EH1 1LG

WHEN: 7.30pm-8.30pm, August 2nd -August 24th

HOW MUCH: Nothing. It’s on the Free Fringe.

‘takes in everything from music to comedy and is characterised by an emphasis on truth’-The Independent

‘an entertaining bunch of melancholic oddballs’-The London Word

Show extracts will be going out as podcasts via iTunes, Soundcloud and other podcast networks during the festival.

Go on. Let the bastards get you down!

Stand Up Tragedy aims to make audiences laugh until they cry and cry until they laugh. It’s a monthly live show and podcast where people stand up and tell tragedy. We make you sad; we make you think; we make you smile. Expect music, comedy, fiction, spoken word, true stories and more, all playing up to the tragic form but not always taking it too seriously. The night ends, not with a whimper, not with a bang, but with a cathartic sing-a-long.

Combining established acts such as Robin Ince, Andy Zaltzman, Grace Petrie, Sara Pascoe and Helen Arney with new and upcoming acts, Stand Up Tragedy creates evenings of variety based around a theme. Performers often write new material especially for the night and relish the opportunity to put a tragic spin on what they do. The nights are recorded and put out as a weekly podcast.

Call for Submissions:

To celebrate the triumphant return of Stand Up Tragedy to the Edinburgh Fringe, we are relaunching the SUT blog with an updated look and a new focus. Like its raucous live counterpart, the Stand Up Tragedy blog will be a place find the humour of hurt, the tickle of tragedy and mirth of misfortune. Selected work will posted each Friday beginning 1st August and promoted via the Stand Up Tragedy London monthly events, the podcast and at the Edinburgh Fringe.

What: short stories (fiction and non-fiction), flash fiction, poetry, and experimental form (that can be digitally distributed) that fits with the theme of tragicomedy. Or comitragedy.  Ideal length is 250-1000 words, though shorter pieces, and longer work that can be serialised, will be considered. Editorial support or feedback can be offered to those who request it.

Format: Word doc or docx – double spaced—name and title on every page and paginated, please.

Deadline: Rolling. New pieces to be posted weekly beginning 1st August.

Please email to akshoosmith@gmail.com with “SUT Submission” in the subject line.

Stand-Up-Tragedy-poster_EDINBURGH-2014In the press:

“Laugh? I Nearly Died: The Rise of Stand-Up Tragedy” (Independent, July 2012)

“Stand-Up Tragedy” (London Word, January 2013)

One of the Guardian’s “Ten Great Storytelling Nights” (March 2014)

“Stand-up comedy with Sophocles and Justin Bieber during World Cup football” (John Fleming, June 2014)

 

Listen for yourself via the podcast: Tragic Christmas

Mark Watson’s Novel + 100 Stories – Read One Here!

COMEDIAN AND AUTHOR MARK WATSON EXPLORES INNOVATIVE WAY OF ONLINE STORYTELLING WITH PUBLICATION OF NEW NOVEL, HOTEL ALPHA, AND 100 ACCOMPANYING SHORT STORIES

Today, Picador publish Mark Watson’s new novel Hotel Alpha. It is set in an exclusive central London hotel against the backdrop of the digital revolution, beginning in the 1960s and ending in July 2005, the week that London won the Olympic bid and was hit by the 7/7 bombings.

Hotel Alpha has been written to be read in two stages: there is the novel itself and 100 stories which can be found on the website http://www.hotelalphastories.com. Both the novel and the individual stories stand alone and can be read in any order. Some of the stories are 1000 words, others a paragraph, some the length of a tweet but all shine an alternative light on the plot, solve mysteries, and give voice to some of the minor characters in the novel.

In his afterword, Mark Watson said:

‘Hotel Alpha is designed to be read in two stages. There is the novel which you have just finished and, I hope, enjoyed – unless you’re one of these people who always flick to the back first. Then there are one hundred extra stories which appear on a website: http://www.hotelalphastories.com. The extra stories span the same time period as the novel. They shine an alternative light on the plot of the book, show the hidden links between some of its main events, solve mysteries, and give voice to some of the thousands of minor characters and dramas which make up the life of the Hotel Alpha while the main story is playing out. They can be read in any order and in any quantity. Or, of course, you can ignore them altogether – it’s entirely up to you.

Everyone knows that human stories are always bigger and more complex than they appear – the relationships and connections between us all are infinite, and a book can only do so much. The internet, though, removes the physical limitations of the novel, opening up possibilities that have never before existed for readers and writers. We can now choose how much of a story we want to tell, and how much of it we want to know: in theory we can keep going forever. The one hundred extra stories of Hotel Alpha don’t quite go that far, and you as a reader probably have other plans for the rest of your life. But it’s a start. . . ‘

 

Story 55: Room 77, 1984

It’s not the first time Rachael has taken a babysitting job in a hotel. It is kind of unusual, obviously. Normally she goes to someone’s house. But people do stay in hotels with babies and sometimes they’re there for a few nights and they need to get out. It must be rough, always being tied down by a kid. The call came from the Alpha reception; she’s on the concierge’s list of Bloomsbury babysitters who can be called at short notice. It’s a good job; you don’t have to do anything, you just sit there. It’s a sight better than some of her fellow students, who work in noisy bars for two quid an hour and then are too exhausted to get their essays finished. She gets five an hour for this, and it can be more. In a hotel you never know. It might be a crazy eccentric couple who give you fifty because it makes no difference to them. Rachael has a mate who’s a waitress in the Café de Paris and once a film star left her a £100 tip, and the tips are all meant to go into the pot but she kept it and then she was terrified someone would find out, so she panicked and spent it all on crisps and chocolate on the way home, more than she could eat in a year.

The only tricky thing about sitting in places like hotels is that the baby’s often asleep in a cot in the corner, so it’s hard to watch TV or do anything that might make a noise. But she’s brought coursework to get on with, and a little torch. She might sneak something out of the minibar, or the woman might say she’s allowed to help herself. Maybe she could get room service.

Rachael takes the lift up and knocks on the door of 77. A woman comes to the door and Rachael gets an immediate surprise: she isn’t dressed to go out. She’s in one of those white hotel dressing gowns tied with a chunky cord at the front. She’s got frizzy hair and tired eyes. She smiles at Rachael.
‘Come in. Thank you so much for coming.’

Rachael comes in and stands awkwardly near the desk, looking at the unmade bed, trying not to seem like she’s noticing it. There are kids’ toys all over the floor, Lego or Brio or something like her nephew has. Big bricks. A police station. A model helicopter. Kids electric cars – Top9Rated rated to be safe for indoor and outdoor use. Books. It looks as if someone has deliberately emptied box after box of stuff onto the floor. There are no adult clothes around; no adult items at all, really. There is also no sign of the kid.

‘He’s asleep in the other room,’ says the woman, reading her expression in the way slightly older women always seem able to. ‘This is quite a big room. It’s got two bits to it.’

‘That’s nice,’ says Rachael.

‘I’m Roz, by the way.’

She licks her lips nervously. This is the worst bit of babysitting: the bit before they leave. She likes it best – any babysitter likes it best – when they bustle straight out of the door and leave you to it. It’s not much fun when you have to hang around as they get ready. They come out of the shower and they put their hair under the dryer and are scrambling around for a bra and spraying on perfume, and you have to pretend to read your book as if you haven’t noticed. But this lady seems nice. Something about the way she smiles at Rachael, almost shyly, though it’s Rachael’s place to be shy in this situation.

‘Now, I need to talk to you about something, if that’s … I’m sorry about this,’ says Roz. ‘Did you want to sit down, by the way?’

‘Sure,’ says Rachael, and goes over to a little two-person sofa. Roz Tanner keeps touching her unruly hair and she looks at the wall as she’s speaking.

‘The thing is, I feel so stupid,’ says her employer for the night, ‘but Chas … my son has been a bit poorly.’

Rachael feels a sinking in her chest. She knows what’s coming. A cancellation. At least she might get paid, still, if this woman’s got any decency. Or maybe get half the money. But it’s a pisser. She was kind of banking on that cash. She’s meant to be going out at the weekend, and …

‘So, but, I’ll still pay you.’ Rachael wonders if it was obvious from her face that she was thinking about money. ‘But the thing is … ’ Roz Tanner coughs. ‘I mean, you’ve probably come a long way. Did you want to stay and watch the telly? I don’t know if you watch … I was going to watch EastEnders. Sorry, is this incredibly weird? I don’t know if I’m being weird.’

Maybe it is, but Rachael finds herself filled with warmth for this stranger, who is at least ten years older than her and has a child and everything, is a lot further down the path of life, and yet carries herself in this rather apologetic way and addresses Rachael as if they were peers. Also, Rachael likes EastEnders: she was planning to watch it when Roz went out.

‘That would be really cool,’ she finds herself saying.

Half an hour later she finds herself on the sofa, holding a glass of wine. Roz is drinking Archers with lemonade. An hour later they’ve watched EastEnders and discussed various characters whose storylines are currently to the fore, and what they think of the actors portraying them, and what they themselves would do if they found themselves in those situations. An hour and a half later they’ve begun to discuss personal stuff. Rachael tells Roz about her course, and how she’s not sure she chose the right degree because translating is such a difficult career to get into, and even confides that she’s paranoid that Ricki is bitching about her, which wasn’t something she had acknowledged to herself until tonight.

Rachael finds out, in return, that Roz has been raising the boy on her own, that she and the father Tony split even before he was born.

‘He said, “I can’t live without you, Rosalynn,”’ Roz Tanner reminisces. ‘He didn’t mean it − he was drunk. A week later, he’d gone.’

And times were very tough for Roz after that, by the sound of it, but then the kind man who runs this hotel gave them this room to stay in till she got sorted out. ‘Which I’m in the process of doing,’ Roz added. And Rachael nods and says it must be incredibly tough, and that she thinks Roz is really brave, and she feels very adult for saying these things.

Eventually they open the bottle of red wine on the desk, and Rachael has her feet up on the sofa, and it’s hard to believe that she came here to do a job, that she hasn’t known Roz Tanner for years and years. She doesn’t care now whether she comes away with any money. It isn’t even on her mind. All she can think is how amazing it is that you can make a friend out of nowhere like this. When Roz asks her to babysit next week – she’s going to reschedule the event that didn’t happen tonight – Rachael doesn’t hesitate.

Roz goes into the bathroom. She feels a little drunker than she imagined she’d be. She stares at the tiles, alternating black and white, and looks at the row of little cosmetic bottles on the shelf next to the shower head, which the housekeeping woman kindly keeps replenishing even though she’s been here several weeks now. She wonders whether Rachael already knows that, when she turns up to ‘babysit’ next week, Roz will again find an excuse not to leave. And whether after that, she’ll need to go through the pretence all over again; or if at that point she can admit, without seeming too strange, that what she wanted, all along, was company, and this was one of the only ways she could think of getting it.

To read more stories visit: http://www.hotelalphastories.com

Bunbury Issue Five: Mythology Special

Many Greetings from all of us here at Bunbury Magazine; Hello you! How are you? It’s been what? Two months? You look great! So… Read anything good recently? We ask knowingly. Hold on to your hats because you’re about to read some more truly awesome stuff from some very talented people. Also, if you’re not wearing a hat, just print this ‘zine out, fold it into a hat then you can wear Bunbury whilst reading Bunbury.

Print

The submissions we have had for this issue have been an absolute joy to curate and edit.  First of all, the front cover was designed by the very talented Valeria Savchits, who also has a portfolio of sea-scapes and figurative pieces in the magazine. Our other artistic contributor was Paula Fardell, with portraits of Euryale and Medusa. Our poetry and short-story offerings were abundant this issue. There are far too many to name here and we would not want to spoil any surprises lurking in the magazine but the piece we were sent for consideration were of the utmost quality!

For this issue, we also had the absolute pleasure to cover the Spoken Word Showcase events run by Stephen James. We have done our utmost to do justice to all the fantastic performers at these live poetry readings. The details of the next event can be found here.

We have the continuation of our serial dark story ‘Yum-Yum’ by Kurt Jarram, who has just started up a new band, Kindness of Strangers.

We also want to welcome three new people on board, don’t worry, you’ll get on with them fine they’re just like all the rest of us really. They are: Maria Owen-Midlane and her bit of wedded stuff, Scott Owen-Midlane. You may recognise their names from the very first issue when we covered the Consortium tour featuring Noterminus. So to them we should actually say ‘Welcome back’. These two lovely people will be our Bristol based correspondents. They have done so much for us already, it’s about time we welcomed them into the Bunbury family, although not in a Charles Manson kind of way, more of a peanut butter vodka smoothies in a bath in full Victorian get up. Yeah. That. Let’s make that happen. We have big plans. BIG PLANS. That’s how big they are, caps lock big. Exciting times will ensue.

The third person we want to welcome to our ranks is a man with a beard from Swansea. Since we took him in all his fury glory, he also has done excellent things for the issue after this one. He’s a really forward thinker. And furry. We mentioned that too, right? Yeah, coz he is. The only issue I have with him is that I can’t remember is he likes peanut butter or not. We will find out for next time for you. It’s only right that you know what you’re getting after all.

We should take the opportunity right now to thank the (relatively) quiet partner of our team, Matt Evans. He is the man who makes the pretty-pretty with the magazine. Without him, we really would not have a magazine.

With all that said, and without further ado, we proudly present to you Bunbury Magazine Issue Five: Mythology Special.

Please find us on all the social media type stuff:

Facebook

Twitter

Also, we are already looking forward to the next issue, which is memory-themed. If you have any short stories, poems, flash fiction or art, please feel free to get in touch with us on bunburymagazine@gmail.com. We will also be up in Edinburgh covering the festival so if you are up there with a show and would like some much-deserved coverage, we will endeavour to give you what you need.

Take care all and enjoy!

Fanny Peculiar’s Hellfire Club hosted by Bernadette Russell/White Rabbit

Find out more about Bernadette Russell/White Rabbit here

This Friday 13th June is a full moon, what better way to celebrate this auspicious occasion than by joining Fanny Peculiar and her succubi at this wild sabbat?

Details: Arts Admin/Toynbee Studios, 28 Commercial Street LONDON E1 6AB nearest tube ALDGATE EAST. Friday 13th June 2014, £5, 7.30pm- the witching hour.

Fanny and friends in the Hellfire Club

Fanny and friends in the Hellfire Club

Please book tickets here

Fanny invites you to a soiree in celebration of women, for the general improvement of mirth, joy and gaiety, and to join her getting smashed on cheap gin.

There will be funny stories,ribald poems, dirty songs,  acts sublime and ridiculous plus frequent toasts.

For one night only, The Hellfire Club, once the preserve of pasty male aristos, has been annexed by Fanny Peculiar and her succubbi. Help them celebrate on this most unholy of days the glorious wickedness, strangeness, hilarity and beauty in the women around you.

Come together! Misbehave! You’ll leave with a title, and a section of the United Kingdom bestowed upon you to keep as your own by Fanny Peculiar.

We have punk in our hearts and glitter on our lips, we happy and rebellious disciples of Fanny.

Flippant musical comedy bawdiness ****

Erotic Review

Hosted by Bernadette Russell

Line-up of artists on the night:
Christine Entwisle
Zoe Charles
Johanna Hauge
Vera Chok
Miss Luna Peach
Bebe van der Belt
Chloe Morgan
Alex Brew
Cindy Oswin
Penny Pepper
Francoise Lauwerie
Julie Balloo
Hannah O’Driscoll
Emma O’Rourke
Ursula Dares

a little song about bearded ladies

a little song about bearded ladies

Stand Up Tragedy: Greek Tragedy

On June 12th Stand Up Tragedy are putting the sic into classics as we return to the birthplace of tragic narrative, and gather together performers from across the genres to put on night of Greek Tragedy.

Highlights will be Andy Zaltzman making use of his classics degree, ukulele tragedy from cabaret mistress Tricity Vogue, mythic poems from David Lee Morgan and some excellent nonsense from comedian Joz Norris. The line-up includes theatre, spoken word, comedy, storytelling and traditional greek folksongs.

Expect each act to take you to a completely different place, while host, Sony and Radio Academy Award nominated podcaster, storyteller and writer, Dave Pickering, guides you through the cathartic twists and turns.

SUT-Poster-June

What is Stand Up Tragedy?

It “takes in everything from music to comedy and is characterised by an emphasis on truth.”
The Independent

An “entertaining bunch of melancholic oddballs”
The London Word

Stand Up Tragedy aims to make audiences laugh until they cry and cry until they laugh. It’s a monthly live show and podcast where people stand up and tell tragedy. We make you sad; we make you think; we make you smile. Expect music, comedy, fiction, spoken word, true stories and more, all playing up to the tragic form but not always taking it too seriously. The night ends, not with a whimper, not with a bang, but with a cathartic sing-a-long.

At Stand Up Tragedy, we combine established acts like Robin Ince, Josie Long, Ben Target, Grace Petrie, Sara Pascoe, Helen Zaltzman, Simon Munnery and Helen Arney with new and upcoming acts, creating evenings of variety based around a theme. Performers often write new material especially for our nights and relish the opportunity to put a tragic spin on what they do. The nights are recorded and put out into a weekly podcast.

Stand Up Tragedy were selected as one of the Guardian’s 10 national storytelling nights.

To get a taste of the tragedy have a listen to our podcast.