The Beestonian: a stumble into reality: Part One.

On your daily perambulations round Beeston, as you stop off for a perk-inducing coffee or a slouch inducing booze drink, you may have noticed something lurking within these places, imploring you to pick it up and take it home. Slim, sleek and with a pleasing cream hue, its free and you want it, don’t you?  Yes, Beestonia has taken its first giddy steps from the virtual universe and into the real, physical world. The Beestonian is born.

Why?

To rework Mallory’s famous theory of why men climb mountains, The Beestonian exists because it wasn’t there. There definitely seems to be a need for something extra on the Beeston paper scene: Breeze is, as its name suggests, airy, light and often stinks of trumps; it’s also the equivalent of a The Only Way is Essex character: shiny, characterless and utterly empty of anything of interest. It sell ads, and it presumably does it well, but it hardly sets my pulse racing when it clatters through the letterbox.

Then we have The indefatigable Beeston Express, which I’ve never shyed from praising: it is a nicely unique little publication that does convey a certain feel of Beeston, and does kick out a lot of info per issue. The letters page is a cracking testament to the generally irreverent character of Beestonians. Soubry also kicks out her monthly petard to hoist herself from, and its well worth a quarter of a quid. But something, something is missing, so The Beestonian exists to fill that gap, and complement what is already is available.

I’ll still be writing this blog, as The Beestonian won’t be just a paper version of Beestonia, hopefully it will express more views than my own meglomanical rantings. You -yes you, sit up straight when I’m talking to you – you are most cordially invited to take part. Features, news…let me know.

Plus, with the News of the World closing last month, it felt only right to fill that gaping hole. Though Mystic Meg still hasn’t signed her contract with us yet.

How?

I have a crack editorial, production and distribution team at my disposal. As in ‘five other people with very little experience in doing anything like this but it seemed a right good idea round a pub table in May’. As such, it’s a terrifyingly daunting adventure that seemed really simple a few blissfully ignorant months ago. Please bear with us and if you have any experience you’d like to offer up, be it in design, offers of cheap/free printing, promotion, writing content that doesn’t offend 90% of your target demographic and leads to lost libel cases and subsequent years decaying in a debtors gaol, please offer then up. We’ll make it up by thanking you in print, inevitably spelling your name wrong.

What?

Excuse me?

What?

No, I heard you the first time, I was just explaining it’s rude to say ‘What?’ .Uncouth. This is Beeston we’re talking about, not the barbaric lands of say,  Toton.

I’m sorry. Shall I move on to the next question?

I think that’s for the best.

When?

Ah, ok, that’s a doozy of a question. We originally intended to kick out an issue fortnightly, distributing on alternate weeks to the Beeston Express. However, due to the aforementioned absolute amateurism of the operation, that’s optimistic. Regular readers of this blog will both know that I’m pretty useless at following through on promised articles. My devastating expose regarding the evil of cats has still to be committed to type, and in the interim I’ve actually took a shine to the cats who pass through my garden. I even feed them. And not cat-poison. Chicken. Cat treats. Fish. They’ve turned me.

Also, we’ve all got jobs, and my crack team also have lives outside wanting to install me as the benign dictator of Beestonia. The selfish gets. This has led us to adopt the ‘Idler Model’, named after the if-and-when randomly periodical that is a favourite of mine (and not just cos they once accepted and published an article on Stilton manufacture I sent in several years ago. Though that was nice of them). So we’ll do our best to feed your inevitable future addiction to The Beestonian with a loose print-date. When we get pro, and Murdoch buys us out for several million, I’ll hire someone to sort out a more paced print run. From my South Sea Island. My South Sea island MADE OUT OF GOLD.

And finally….Where?

Great question. And in no way an excuse for me to plug all the lovely people who decided to take a few copies and put them round their businesses as I made my sweaty, caffeine addled journey round Beeston last Saturday. You can find copies of the taster issue (half the size and only 17% as funny/interesting as the first issue will be) if you sniff around the following:

The Bean Coffee Shop

The Treasury, Wollaton Road

Mason and Mason Coffee shop (the Phoenix that rose from the ashes of Sheila’s Hats)

Beeston Library

Happy Daze

The Flying Goose Cafe

The Crown Inn

The Greyhound

Belle and Jerome

Metro

More to follow. Click on these places, say hello. Better still, venture in, ask for your free copy of The Beestonian and buy something. Well, not at the library. Though they do have a good quality coffee machine. Which you will ignore and spend cash at the coffee shops mentioned.

Say I sent you. And then let me know what you think. It is for you, after all.

 

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