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Those are some Big Words, mate

I've only gone and started up another spoken word night.

Hell, yes, but of course. My famous friend Ali shuffled up to me a few months back and said he had a vision for a new night of live literature. I could see the gears churning inside his mind as he toyed with the dream of putting actual living people in front of other actual living people so that the first lot could word-dance for the second lot. But he needed help from someone who's done this sort of thing before. I said; aye go on then.

Some scurrying later and we had a venue. Vinyl Fiction, a cute new record & book shop in Chorlton, south Manchester, who were looking to expand their repertoire into evening events. Like an answer to a prayer, Ali strolled in with his head full of ideas. Next up we nailed a name. After rejecting 'Kill All Writers', which we loved but felt was a tad violent, we settled on Big Words. This was our first poster for the debut event:

It went stonkingly well. Energetic, slightly ridiculous, and constantly profound. We had a beautiful blend of readers, old and new, while Ali gave a reading of one of the most hilarious and disturbing stories that has ever graced paper. The night was closed by the singular antics of our pal Fat Roland with his vast quantities of cartoons and a life-sized cut out of a man called Fred, who concluded proceedings by announced our name like some horrible town crier.

This was the poster for event two (collector's items perhaps?), and the second outing went just as well as the first. More fabulous readers from all over town, including the pin-sharp David Gaffney reading his gripping short story 'Insight' from the We Were Strangers Joy Division anthology. Most fitting for the venue, most fitting indeed. It all came together like magic.

And now we're gearing up for event three, this Wednesday, November 21st. We've already got a bumper line-up and we're very excited to see what these fabulous writers and poets and ne'erdowells will spew forth. We'll soon have December and January dates in the diary and we're always on the look out for more readers. Might it be you, fair writer? Got a poem or story or monologue that fits into roughly 5-7 minutes of stage time? Live reasonably near to Manchester? Bang us an email and we'll find a way to fit you in:

In the meantime, follow us on Instagram where further silliness regularly takes place: @bigwordsmcr. And keep them words big.

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