It’s called Spiralling. Guests share the problems they’re spiralling over, and I solve them (with varying degrees of success).

You can listen to the trailer at this link, featuring some (but not all!) of my special guests. It’s an audio-only podcast, so you’ll have to use your ears to deduce who’s featured. Any voices you recognise?

The first episode is LIVE now. Listen on Apple, Spotify, Amazon, [pick your favourite evil corporation] or wherever else you get your podcasts.

Comedian and author Eleanor Morton has kicked us off with a particularly juicy question: how do we keep making art in a world that feels increasingly anti-art? PLUS, a mystery caller shares a very modern gripe, live on the pod.

The adorable artwork was designed by my dear friend Tom Deas — huge thanks to him. You can follow his work on Instagram.

Happy listening!

It has been busy.

Last month I attended the Royal Television Society Awards (oooh fancy!) to celebrate Good for Her, which was nominated in the comedy category. We didn’t win (Two Doors Down took the crown of course, congrats to them!) but I was chuffed to be in the room. I’ve never been to a telly industry event like that. Met some nice people. Chased down waiters for canapés. Drank gin. Clapped a lot. Ate chips and cheese on the way home because eight canapés does not a meal make.

I’ve realised recently - after conversations with more experienced writers - that I need to get better at the “networking” side of comedy writing. As in, I need to actually network. I need to meet producers for coffee. Send emails. Be proactive. It feels like a whole other job. But I guess it really is about “who you know”. Why can’t I just quietly write my silly stories in peace and expect opportunities to fall into my lap?! I have to TALK to people?!

Last month also included: a heavily nostalgic Ben Kweller (2000s indie hero) gig; a weekend of drinking, biang biang noodles and music in London; two Radhika gigs (dreamy psych pop, check her out); Belle & Sebastian at Kelvingrove bandstand with an indie disco afterparty (ridiculous fun); a 40th; a 50th; a WestFest gig at The Stand; a fun radio appearance; some cool but intense community engagement projects at work; a Glasgow guide for The Skinny; a new personal creative project (more on that soon); and filming for a new TV thing. I’m tired writing all that.

Mmm biang biang noodles.

I’m not allowed to say what the TV thing is yet because it hasn’t been announced. But what I can say is: it’s NOT a sketch show. It’s NOT scripted comedy. But there WILL be laughs. I’m taking unpaid leave as the filming is taking up a lot of the summer. It’s been a blast so far and I’m feeling energised trying something different, with some really talented people.

August and the Fringe are looming. Given how relentlessly busy the summer is, I’m happy (relieved?) about my decision to do just one show (12 August, 9.30pm, Cabaret Voltaire). If you missed it last year, I’d love to see you there! If you saw it last year and liked it, please tell a friend. Gossip fuels the Fringe.

As always, if anyone is looking for Fringe recommendations: tell me what kind of comedy you like, and I’ll make some suggestions.

I’ll be back soon (let’s manifest a quiet autumn?).

PS - I collab’d with the very funny Beth Knight (American turned weegie) on a sketch for socials. You can watch it here.

Thought I’d do a wee spring update as there’s a few things coming up:

• Doing the Speakeasy Stirling on Friday 1 May, hosted by Kevin P Gilday. Alan Bissett is on the line-up too I see. Should be a lovely wee night. Tickets at this link.

• West End mum Aileen is coming to The Stand Comedy Club in Glasgow on Wednesday 24 June to raise funds for WestFest. First time doing anything at The Stand’s new venue but it looks to be sufficiently theatrical for Aileen’s tastes. Tickets at this link.

• I decided against doing a Fringe run this year. However, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to bring the show back to Monkey Barrel’s Cabaret Voltaire for ONE NIGHT ONLY on Wednesday 12 August (21:30). Tickets on sale from edfringe.com on 6 May. If you know anyone who hasn’t seen the show, please spread the word!

My ‘sensible’ job has been busy recently, which hasn’t left a huge amount of time or energy to work on comedy things. But after seeing Peaches last night, I can’t use being tired and 40 as an excuse for inaction. What a FORCE. She’s 59 btw. We can all learn from The Teaches of Peaches.

Wishing you all an excellent Sunday, I’ll be back when I have something to share.

Yesterday I went to “Getting on: Comedy for TV and Radio”, an event presented by Glasgow International Comedy Festival (GICF) and The Comedy Unit.

Comedy industry events like this are usually gatekept or paid for. This was free, with lunch and coffees included. I’m not sure what the criteria was for receiving an invitation but the room was packed with stand-ups, writers, producers - lots of familiar faces in the Scottish comedy scene. And plenty of women, which isn’t always the case at these things.

I’ve written before about the need for greater transparency in how commissions are made (see my previous post about how I got to make ‘Good for Her’). Hats off to GICF and The Comedy Unit for doing something practical about it. I really hope this becomes a regular fixture and - as Krista the GICF Director highlighted - something that is valued and actually funded.

The programme was in three parts: a panel with TV and radio commissioners, both regional and UK-wide; a Radio 4 “masterclass”; and a panel Q&A with established comedy writers.

Attendees were invited to submit questions ahead of time. I asked about the gender disparity in comedy writing (11% comedy is written by women), and what tangible actions organisations are taking to address it. During morning coffee, I bumped into a (woman) producer who had asked the same question.

I also asked if the age of “niche” or alternative comedy on TV is over, given tightening budgets and the pressure to produce “broad appeal” shows that hit big numbers.

After wolfing down the free pastries, we were ushered into one of The Social Hub’s seminar rooms for the first session with the commissioners. The lineup was: Jason Dawson (Dave), Julia McKenzie (Radio 4), Nana Hughes (ITV), Gregor Sharp (BBC) and Gavin Smith (BBC Scotland).

The main things I gleaned from the conversation were:

• Feel-good, “broad appeal” comedy is still the priority, particularly on ITV and BBC

• Of all the channels, it sounds like Radio 4 is the only platform where niche or alternative comedy currently has a place (with Julia McKenzie citing Icklewick FM as an example). There was also feeling that Channel 4 are more open to this (although there was nobody from Channel 4 on the panel).

• When pitching, commissioners prefer a scripted/written idea as a starting point, not a jazz-hands slide deck presentation - they need to see that the writing is good, and they need to justify their decisions to higher-ups

• Jason Dawson, who works in unscripted comedy said that panel shows are “out” but they’re looking for interesting formats (like Taskmaster or Last One Laughing), and he’s happy to attend live shows to see new ideas in action. He did add one caveat: entertainment shows need a “heritage” big name attached to secure the numbers needed for a commission, which doesn’t leave space for new acts. If you want to pitch a format, find a way to make your personal contribution indispensable (like Alex Horne did with Taskmaster).

As the conversation meandered towards the scheduled finish time, I started to feel disheartened that my question about the gender disparity wasn’t raised. Particularly since I knew I wasn’t the only one who asked it.

Just as I was ruminating on this, a voice came from the back of the room: “I need to say something.”

It was Susie McCabe. She was standing up.

“This is supposed to be a Q&A”.

Susie spoke boldly: “If you’re going to give feedback, you need to give direction. There is a chokehold on Scotland’s TV comedy. This is a regional issue.”

At this point it was pretty clear who Susie’s feedback was directed to, and Gavin Smith (BBC Scotland) identified himself immediately.

The room was silent as Susie continued. Some people looked down at their feet, consumed with awkwardness. Others looked back at Susie, encouragingly.

In response, Gavin offered to have a conversation. He also said “it’s the job of a producer to help deal with feedback”.

After several minutes, the panel moved on. But the scene we’d just witnessed hung in the room like a ghost, until we broke for coffee.

Earlier this year, BBC Radio Scotland announced changes to their music programming, with cuts to several specialist music shows in favour of what they described as “easy listening”. The news provoked widespread anger, thinkpiece columns and petitions driven by Scotland’s indie music scene. It could be said that the same “mainstreaming” and risk aversion is happening in comedy. But for some reason, there has been little public reaction to this by the comedy community. There’s a browbeaten acceptance that this is just the way things are. Things are tough, but let’s be middle class and polite about it. There are so few crumbs on the table, it would be reckless to rock the boat and jeopardise your personal chances of getting one. I think that’s why Susie standing up seemed so radical. It shook the room. Pushback rarely happens publicly. It was punk.

It’s hard to criticise without coming off bitter and it’s something I’ve been conscious of when sharing my own experiences (which were lifted without my knowledge for an article in The Times not so long ago - if you’re reading this, a heads up would have been nice). But Susie has the clout and comedy chops (selling out big theatres) to speak up, fearlessly. I wonder if her battle cry will inspire others.

Ultimately, comedy is collaborative. Feedback is a two-way street. I hope commissioners, producers and other people with decision-making power are open to critique, the same way artists routinely adapt and develop their craft.

The next session was led by Julia McKenzie, a focus on Radio 4 comedy. Her advice was to ‘shop around’ for producers, find someone who understands what you do. Ashley Storrie agreed “As performers, we get excited when someone pays you a bit of attention” - but that doesn’t mean it’s the right person.

“How do you find a route in? How do you find a producer if you didn’t go to film school?” asked stand-up Liam Withnail. “A hand of god isn’t going to tap you on the shoulder” said Julia. Listen to radio comedy, identify the producers you like and reach out to them directly.

After lunch (pizza!), Greg Hemphill, Jack Doherty and Lorna Martin mused on their experience of writing partnerships, avoiding work “getting away from you” and tactics for dealing with notes (“write 40 pages for a 30 page script - so that there’s bits for the commissioner to cut”). All three acknowledged how tough it is to get anything made these days. Greg reflected that it took a couple of series for Chewin’ the Fat to find its feet. To be cancelled after one series would have been heartbreaking; work needs time to develop and grow an audience.

At times the discussions yesterday felt unavoidably bleak, both during and in between the sessions. It has never been harder to get something made. But we’re all in the same boat. Being around peers for a whole day was a helpful reminder of that. Thank you to GICF/The Comedy Unit for bringing us together. Thank you to Susie for not being scared to share feedback. And solidarity with all the people trying to be funny in 2026!

One last thing: I have been made aware that Substack makes revenue by hosting newsletters by far-right/Nazi groups. I haven’t decided what to do about this yet (some people are choosing to leave the platform), mostly because I haven’t had the time or headspace. But I am aware and curious to know your thoughts too.

The reality is: I’m up against some big dogs, and I know how this ends. So why bother? Do awards materially change careers? It’s hard to say.

At the very least, they provide a fleeting moment of glory, which you can flaunt to your hate-followers on Instagram (“And now, we move onto liars”).

More usefully, accolades can be attached to your Fringe poster or press release, to drive ticket sales or tempt the media.

Last year, after being knocked out of the Musical Comedy Awards at the semi-finals, I grieved for the poster that could have been (“semi-finalist” sounds a bit shite, let’s be honest).

When I was invited back to the final on a judges’ vote, I was delighted - to perform at the Bloomsbury Theatre of course - but also to revive my plans for that much-coveted “finalist” graphic, in laurels. It took pride of place on my Fringe poster. Did it inspire any ticket sales? I don’t know. But it looked legit.

I’ve applied to a few awards in recent years: the Sir Billy Connolly Awards in 2024, and the Funny Women Awards the year before that. In both cases, I knew I had zero chance of taking the crown - but again, it was an opportunity to acquire those juicy finalist laurels. And for a bit of visibility too, beyond Glasgow’s West end.

Pimped-up graphics aside, one of the best things I took from the Musical Comedy Awards was the chance to meet other musical comedians - a rare and too often ostricised breed on the circuit - and to perform outside Glasgow. I loved the London audiences. Thanks to the MCAs, I met talented, hilarious people like Sarah Gauld and Al Nash, among others. It’s not about the awards, it’s about the friends you make along the way, AM I RITE?! The nerves and pressure draw people together.

Then there’s the big awards - the Edinburgh Fringe ones. I self-sabotaged by performing my debut as a limited run, effectively disqualifying the show from eligibility. In retrospect, possibly a mistake? Nominations at Edinburgh do seem to supercharge careers, leading to sell out shows, Soho Theatre runs and powerful people coming to see you. But the awards also seem to put an inordinate amount of pressure on performers to compete, with inevitable costs to mental health - and a distraction from the bigger picture of simply getting to perform at the world’s biggest arts festival.

I suppose the fact remains that comedy is a crowded market, that gets noisier every day. It’s hard to stand out. And opportunities are sparse.

Most of us are bottom-feeders, hungrily hoovering up any scraps that drift our way. We’re squinting for signs of hope - something that might lift us up from the decaying humpback whale corpse, away from the weird deep-sea creatures that look like shrivelled scrotums, and into the pelagic zone.

We’re not looking for much. Just the chance to be plankton. Even for a day.

I’ll end it there before the marine biology metaphors get too deep (ha ha!). But if you’re feeling generous, you know what to do.

I feel a bit like the Triceratops in the first Jurassic Park film (the only film whose existence I will acknowledge) who overindulged on poisonous berries. But in my case, the berries are wine and fizz and gin and After Eights.

I’d like to kick off 2026 with some light begging.

That’s why I gave this post a click-baity subtitle mentioning gossip - so that you’d open it. Did it work?!

It has come to my attention that Good for Her (the sketch show I made last year) is eligible for the British Comedy Guide Awards. Voting ends on 11 January.

If you can spare one minute to throw me a vote in the sketch show category, I’d be hugely grateful. It might even make my year, so I can peak in January and put my feet up.

I’m in the same category as Mitchell & Webb but I think they’re doing fine. I, however, could do with a leg up. And this is the only chance Good for Her has to be nominated, because there’s no series. Go on. Make my day/year.

If you don’t have an opinion on other categories, you can select ‘no choice’. Although I’d suggest supporting fellow Scot Paul Black with his short film Govan Fair Queen.

My plans for the start of the year are relatively light. I’m entering a self-enforced period of hibernation to do some thinking and writing and to finish off my After Eights in peace.

Just before the Christmas break, I did a spot of radio acting. Dan Goes Dating goes out on BBC Radio 4 on 17 January. Written by Michael Beck and starring, among others, the very funny Christopher MacArthur-Boyd and Stephen Buchanan.

Eleanor & Pals, Eleanor Morton’s character comedy pilot (guest-starring Aileen) is in its final stages of the edit and will be going out in February too. It’s radio season, baby! Stick on the wireless while you make a pot of soup.

I’m going on a very exciting trip in February. If anyone has tips for Buenos Aires, please send them my way…

If you’re coming to Monkey Barrel tomorrow, don’t worry: adrenaline will see me through. And ibuprofen. This ain’t my first rodeo. There are just TWO tickets left, which you can procure at this link.

The completist in me would love to sell this out. Do you know two comedy fans in Edinburgh, or the surrounds? Tell them about it, make my day! Equally, if you’re skint but want to come, get in touch and I will sort you out.

On the wireless - coming soon!

Eleanor Morton’s BBC Radio 4 pilot record (Eleanor & Pals) went well on Tuesday. We have a broadcast date: Wednesday 11 February 2026. Really grateful to Eleanor and producer Gus for bringing me (Aileen) on board. It’s definitely got me thinking about radio vs TV as a medium - leaning on listeners’ imaginations instead of having to build sets or props; the luxury of having a script (no memorising lines!); no need for make-up or costumes (although I wore my Aileen outfit anyway); no worries about Scottish weather disrupting plans at the last minute; it’s all quite appealing.

Armchair mountaineering

Since the nights have drawn in, my partner and I have become obsessed with Everest films (EverestTok is a gateway). There’s something comforting about getting toasty under a blanket and watching mad people scramble about in horrifically cold conditions. It makes you appreciate the little things in life, like Not Being on Everest. We’ve watched The Man Who Skied Down Everest (spoiler: a mere six people had to die for him to achieve it); the first two parts of Aftershock: Everest and the Nepal Earthquake (probs won’t finish it, Netflix loves to drag stuff out); and Everest with Jake Gyllenhaal (which confirmed I prefer docs to dramatisations). Any recommendations welcome.

Christmas in the West End

On Saturday at 3.30pm, I’m going method: “Aileen” is switching on the Christmas lights at the Clarice Pears building just off Byres Road. There’s free activities, market stalls etc. from 12-4pm. Maybe see you there?

Settling into Scotland

Ibrahim, the now 20-year-old who fled Gaza and is studying at the University of Glasgow had his first ever day trip (to Edinburgh) last week. I know many folk on here supported the campaign to get him to Glasgow, so you might be interested in following his updates on Instagram. He’s launched an appeal to support his remaining family, you can donate at this link.

Off to ingest some more garlic, wish me luck.

Work was quiet, so my mind wandered. I recalled how it felt to walk on stage in Oran Mor. I was nervous. More nervous than usual. I thought about gigs in my 20s. Was I more confident back then? I had no right to be: my material was poor. But I didn’t know it was poor. Perhaps the audience didn’t know it was poor either, they just responded to my confident delivery, on cue. I did the Fringe this year. It was well-reviewed and the run sold out. Objectively good outcomes. Why do I feel worse?

I always understood that getting older would mean aches and pains, bits of your body falling apart, betraying you etc. Over the past few years, my sponsored ads have transitioned from pregnancy tests to collagen supplements. But I thought that one of the silver linings of advancing age would be a new mental strength. Giving less of a shit. When does that happen? Was I mis-sold?

I shared some of these garbled thoughts online and had a flurry of comments from anxiety-ridden people in their 40s and 50s. The perimenopause was mentioned, of course. But there were men too. One person suggested his new nerves were a hangover from the lack of gigs during lockdown. Another shared her experience of second-guessing even leaving an amusing comment on Instagram. One woman - a total powerhouse, top of her field, force to be reckoned with - confessed not only her inability to ‘not give a shit’, but also an increasing sense of invisibility in her 50s.

Cheery stuff, isn’t it?!

On Saturday, these feelings were still percolating when I popped on my headphones and listened to Lily Allen’s new album West End Girl. And oh my god. What a tonic. This woman is not second-guessing her comments on Instagram. She’s setting it on FIRE. There is vulnerability, but no fear. This is the fuck it energy I’ve been craving.

If you haven’t listened yet, give it a spin then check out Sophie Heawood’s excellent deep dive.

I looped Allen’s album continuously until my phone decided to self-destruct on Sunday night (it is currently in a repair shop; your thoughts and prayers please, for the thousands of photos I failed to back up).

Tonight, unable to loop Pussy Palace the customary five times before bed, I binge-watched a few episodes of Riot Women, a BBC drama about middle-aged women conspiring to write songs about the men who wronged them. There’s something in the air…

Last gig

I am doing my last gig of 2025 on Friday 21 November at 8pm in the Monkey Barrel. This is the final outing of my Fringe show - Zara Gladman is… Aileen: Cameron’s Gap Year Fundraiser - in Edinburgh - and the only remaining chance to see it full stop, now that my 2026 Glasgow shows have sold out (thank you!!)

I’d like to give the show a proper send off so if you are Edinburgh-based / East coast-adjacent or know anyone round that way who might be partial to a bit of character comedy, music, satire and - crucially - a RAFFLE, please spread the word. Tickets are on sale at this link.

Finally, there is an announcement pending for an event (also in Edinburgh) in a few weeks with the brilliant Eleanor Morton who kindly invited me to be a part of her Radio 4 pilot. Tickets are via a BBC ballot, will share the link when it’s live. EDIT: it’s live!

I had some disappointing news about Good for Her, the sketch show pilot that I made earlier this year: there will be no series. BBC Scotland don’t want a sketch show.

The news arrived the same week that Mitchell and Webb’s new sketch show attracted Channel 4’s highest viewers for a comedy show in seven years. But I’m not Mitchell and Webb. And BBC Scotland isn’t Channel 4.

I wrote for SnackMag earlier this year about the value of sketch shows as a development space for emerging writers and performers to grow and experiment, free from the constraints of a traditional sitcom. Scottish comedy has a rich history of sketch on telly; generations before us had Naked Video, Chewin’ the Fat, Burnistoun, Limmy’s Show. I was hoping that millennials might have a turn at the helm too. What’s changed, I asked the commissioner? Why is BBC Scotland stepping away from sketch?

The answer came down to budgets and iPlayer performance. Sketch shows (including my pilot) just aren’t competitive enough with modern streaming targets. Completion rates are too low: people can dip in and out of a sketch show, whereas story-driven formats (drama, sitcom) encourage viewers to hang on. With shrinking budgets, the BBC have to justify their spend and make shows that appeal to as big and broad an audience as possible.

What about underserved audiences? The night Good for Her aired, the number of women watching the show was 44% above average. The gender split was more balanced on iPlayer, he said. But some (story-driven) shows with smaller audiences are still commissioned if they reach underrepresented viewers, so there is space for that.

What about Limmy? I asked. Would Limmy’s Show be made in 2025? “I don’t know,” he said “Limmy, for all his critical acclaim, has a relatively narrow ‘cult’ audience.” Even Burnistoun, a more mainstream offering, might not make the cut today.

With these pressures and projected trends, they don’t see a future for Good for Her.

I’m trying not to let the rejection detract from what we achieved. I certainly made the most of the two manic days of filming; the final show had about twenty different ideas crammed into its 19 minute duration. I was able to play with camera styles (from a ‘90s hip-hop-inspired music video to a creepy Peep Show-style POV), characters (Aileen, gnashing rat lady, Scottish newsreader), genres (musical comedy, parody, satire, live interview), cameos (Aidan Moffat, Kirsty Wark) and worked with a super talented cast and crew.

I always knew that this might be my only chance to make something. I’m glad I stood my ground and fought hard for the sketches I cared about. The forced introspection clarified and reaffirmed the kind of comedy I want to make.

OH WELL. Back to TikTok I go. You make the art you want to make, not according to the whims of an increasingly unpredictable industry.

At least I got a kick of the ball, however brief. I’m incredibly grateful to have had that opportunity. And I got to wear the same wig that Jennifer Saunders wore in the AbFab movie.

You can still watch Good for Her on iPlayer. If you liked it, feel free to rate and review on iMDb.

The Fringe ended a month ago and I’ve still to do the obligatory reflective post. I don’t feel like I’ve had enough time to process it yet. We finished on a Sunday, back to Glasgow Monday, back to work Tuesday. BOOM!

I think it went really well. We did 16 shows (three extra ones) in 13 days. The FOMO hit as soon as I got home and I did have a slight pang of regret that we hadn’t just gone FUCK IT and done the full run. But two weeks was probably a sensible limit for first timers, who have jobs.

Special shout out to Kate Lazda for making our stay so comfortable (and affordable!).

We had some lovely reviews and it was reassuring to find that Aileen resonates outside of Glasgow’s West end (there were a couple of London-based reviewers - plenty of “Aileens” in Primose Hill etc.). Having said that, I suspect that 80% the audience had traveled from Glasgow. A sincere thank you to everyone who came along. I appreciated you braving Scotrail, especially on Oasis weekend. I salute you all.

If you missed the show, we’re doing a one-off in Edinburgh at Monkey Barrel on Friday 21 November at 8pm. Tickets now on sale. The show I wrote was bespoke to the Fringe so I have a bit of work to do (and videos to record!) between now and then. But I’m really looking forward to it.

Gigs gigs gigs

I’ve had September off but will be blowing the dust off my guitar to do a few gigs in October. Come and see Stu and I perform at:

Tiny Changes x Pop Mutations - Saturday 18 October, the 78 - I’ll be doing some jokes, then Jill Lorean is bringing the tunes. Come and laugh and cry with us. In aid of Tiny Changes, the charity set up in memory of Frightened Rabbit’s Scott Hutchison.

The Lovely Eggs - Thursday 23 October, Oran Mor - this is a big one for me and I am still in shock that we are getting to do this support spot! If you don’t know these Lancastrian legends of punk then I suggest you get your eyes and ears on them ASAP. Start with this:

Support acts for other dates include Stewart Lee, Frank Skinner and Phil Jupitus. The imposter syndrome is strong but I am very excited!

Other things

For anyone Glasgow-based who has kids or an interest in research, then I’ve programmed a FREE family-friendly festival at the University of Glasgow’s ARC building on Saturday 20 & Sunday 21 September, 12-3pm each day. Part of Doors Open Day and Explorathon. Pulling this together has been my main preoccupation post-Fringe, and it’s always a fun day out. There’s science, BMX tasters, clowns, outdoor play, experiments, a brass band, tours, crafts - all the good stuff.

Also worth plugging the brilliant fundraiser that Susan Riddell has curated at the new Stand Comedy Club on Sunday 21 September at 4pm (why not make a day of it in the West end?!). Tickets on sale at this link. Great chance to check out the new venue on GWR and support a good cause, with a delightful bill.

I’ve been on a few podcasts recently, for those into that kind of thing: Making Creativity Pay (about the finances of comedy); Persistent & Nasty (women in the arts, represent!); and Comedy in a Nutshell (a deep dive for comedy nerds).

I turned 40 a couple of weeks ago. I feel it my bones, literally. Almost overnight, I’ve started getting joint pains. And I’m tired, all the time. For all that I satirise Aileen’s obsession with Pilates, I know it does help with this kind of thing. Need to get on that.

Boring logistics aside, I think the show is in good shape. We had our final rehearsal on Friday and did a private run-through with an audience of two, which felt authentically Fringe.

Tomorrow evening is our tech rehearsal in the venue. Then there’s a launch event for Monkey Barrel’s programme. I’d quite like to track down my £600-worth of posters at some point too. If you spot any, please let me know and I’ll go on the hunt.

IT’S ALL HAPPENING.

By the way, if you’d like Fringe comedy recommendations, let me know what type of stuff you enjoy and I’ll try and make a suggestion. As always, there’s an overwhelming number of shows, I always rely on word-of-mouth. The programme is impenetrable.

Last thing: I’ve had a really lovely response to ‘Good For Her’. Thank you so much to everyone who has taken time to watch it, and for your kind words. I’m sure the Beeb will be monitoring iPlayer stats and comments, so if we want to pitch to make more, every view counts! You can watch at this link.

I’m off to finish packing before I go and see Susan Riddell (who you may have spotted in the news this week) and Amanda Dwyer’s all-girl comedy show ‘Material Girl’ at The Stand. Susan has a 7pm curfew, which is fairly devastating for someone who makes a living doing stand-up but today is an afternoon show. Slightly despairing at the world right now.

Peace and love. Maybe see some of you in Edinburgh!

My social media spamming seems to be paying off. Tickets for my Fringe debut are flying - if you would like to come along then there are just a few dates remaining:

Grab yours from the Fringe website. I can’t believe it’s only a couple of weeks to go! Huge thanks to everyone for your support.

In other news, my TV debut - ‘Good For Her’ - is on BBC Scotland (and iPlayer) TOMORROW (14 July)! Tune in at 9.40pm. It’s on right after Paul Black’s comedy short at 9.30pm (starring Elaine C Smith), which looks like it will be an excellent watch.

I packed a lot into the 18 minute slot. Keep your eyes peeled for some special cameos. Aileen had a delightful time meeting Arab Stap’s Aidan Moffat…

‘Good For Her’ is a pilot but obviously I would LOVE to make more. So any help with boosting my viewing statistics is much appreciated. If you enjoy it, feel free to share (and tell the Beeb!). If you don’t, then… shhh.

It’s 25 C in Glasgow today, so I’m off to find a cold body of water to immerse myself in. Hope you all have an excellent Sunday.

It’s been a while since I wrote anything on here. I’ve been consumed by day-job work (mostly conferences - one of them was in Gran Canaria, so I can’t complain) and Fringe admin (turns out that self-producing and doing your own PR/logistics etc. whilst trying to write a show is a lot of work *smiles manically* I’M FINE). But I thought I would take a moment, on this depressingly wet summer’s evening, to tell you about my new sketch special Good For Her which comes to BBC Scotland and iPlayer next month.

I’ve often wished there was more transparency about how programmes come to be commissioned. Particularly given how much of a ‘boys’ club’ comedy is. Only 11% of TV comedies are written by women; 8% are directed by women. The industry can feel impenetrable to many. So for anyone wondering, this is how it happened for me, on a small (but exciting - I am very grateful) scale.

In March 2024, I performed my debut comedy hour at Oran Mor, as part of Glasgow International Comedy Festival. Many of you (legends) were there. Also in attendance were producers, including Rab Christie from The Comedy Unit (the production company best known for making Limmy’s Show and Still Game). I decided - despite having no prior contact, connections or credits - that I had nothing to lose by inviting BBC Scotland’s comedy commissioner, so I channeled the confidence of a straight white guy and dropped him an email. I was pleasantly surprised when he accepted the invite. And of course, shitting it. The pressure was on.

Luckily, the shows went well. I started to have conversations with The Comedy Unit about telly ideas. What did I want to make? A sketch show, I replied. I’d been warned by others in the industry that sketch shows are extremely unfashionable (thankfully the tide seems to have turned his year - see SNL, Mitchell & Webb etc.) and that I should focus on sitcoms instead. But The Comedy Unit were happy to back it. I started working up my idea and edited a taster reel, to give a flavour of the style. I wrote a pitch document, describing the format, content and target audience. I had a title: Good For Her.

Next came the ‘option agreement’, a contract that would give The Comedy Unit exclusive rights to produce my idea. Not having a single clue about such things, I DM’d a few pals for advice before approaching a writing agent. After coming to one of my shows, he agreed to represent me and subsequently deal with all the scary (and boring) contract stuff.

While this sketch show idea rumbled along, I kept busy with other things: making TikToks, writing funding applications, gigging, my job. In May, I took annual leave to attend the BBC Comedy Festival at SWG3 in Glasgow; I hadn’t been invited (how does one get invited to these things?! the gatekeeping is real), a colleague happened to forward me a ticket link. It was there that I bumped into the comedy commissioner who had attended my show in March. This was the first time we’d met or spoken in person; we agreed to have a proper introductory meeting after the festival.

A few weeks later, we met on Zoom. There was no agenda: it was just a chance to formally introduce myself (and my comedy) and to hear what the channel’s priorities were. I appreciated his openness; I wonder how many commissioners make time for this sort of relationship-building. It was just a chat - but I think these human gestures are an important step in giving creatives the confidence (and permission) to pitch their ideas.

And pitch, we did. By September, The Comedy Unit and I were finally ready to make the case for Good For Her. I wore this dress (it’s giving professional… but fun?!). In retrospect, needed an iron.

The meeting seemed to go well.

About a month later, we got the news that the BBC were happy to support a short sketch show special for iPlayer and the channel, to give me ‘space to play a bit’. My first ever TV commission was in the bag! I was to write, direct and star in it, with a small cast.

What next? The good news had come at a busy time. I was right in the middle of planning ‘Aileen’s World Tour’, a series of live shows that I’d secured Creative Scotland funding for. But as soon as the final show wrapped in mid-November, the writing began.

In some cases, I decided to re-write and re-shoot existing material (e.g. from TikTok) that I felt would be elevated by the new production values afforded by a full TV crew. Other material was brand new. I also wrote sketches with particular cameos in mind (all will be revealed soon) and there was a bit of work trying to secure my preferred guests. By Christmas, I had my draft material ready for the BBC to review.

I could probably write a whole separate essay about the character-building process of receiving and responding to notes. As someone who’s used to releasing material online, with full creative control, this negotiation process was new to me. And at times, very challenging. But I’m happy to say that the show we ended up with - all 18 minutes of it - stayed true to my vision. At every stage, the sketches I was most passionate about were being nudged towards the cutting room floor. But with diplomacy and some creative solutions, I managed to save them from certain death. That’s something I’m really proud of.

Perhaps I’ll share more about the pre-production / shoot / post-production process, if that would be of interest to anyone. I’m also curious to hear about anyone else’s TV commissioning journey. But for now, I encourage you keep an eye on your TV sets and iPlayer this July (date TBC). While we wait, why not purchase a ticket for my Fringe show?

In news that will surprise approximately noone, I have decided to do the Edinburgh Festival Fringe.

My debut show “Zara Gladman is . . . Aileen: Cameron’s Gap Year Fundraiser” will take over the Monkey Barrel Hive 2 from July 29 - Aug 10, every night at 19:35. A perfectly commutable time from Glasgow, I’m sure you’ll agree…?

Hive 2 is on Niddry Street, just off the Royal Mile. Outside of the Fringe, it is a nightclub, apparently “playing diverse music range, free entry Sunday-Thursday with cheap drinks deals.” I look forward to smelling seeing it.

I am doing “half a fringe” because that’s quite enough, thank you. Also, I have a full time job, which means I am burning annual leave for this err… “holiday”. An hour of work a day, how hard can it be? Let’s see what all those work-shy comedians are complaining about eh?! Gulp.

Seriously though, I’m really excited and thankful to be doing this, especially with Monkey Barrel. Most of the shows I saw as an audience member last year were at MB AND they treat their acts well with an ethical deal. No charging extra for projectors or selling merch or any of that nonsense. They also keep back 10% of tickets as ‘pay what you can’ and seem to genuinely care about access.

You can grab your tickets now via EdFringe. I would love to see you there. NO WORRIES IF NOT.

In other news, Stu and I will be competing in the Musical Comedy Award FINAL on Saturday 12 April at the Bloomsbury Theatre. We’ve been up and down to London a couple of times recently and had a great time in the metropolis, very lovely audiences. If you’re London-based and fancy an evening of musical comedy (the lineup is excellent), you can get tickets at this link.

2025 is shaping up to be extremely busy so far. I have one more thing to announce but I’m not allowed to yet. Soon, I hope.

To celebrate, here’s a quick update on comedy happenings, life etc. in case you’re interested. No worries if not!

• Stu and I entered the UK Musical Comedy Awards. We were shortlisted, so went down to London last weekend to compete. Ten hours on Avanti West Coast to play a whole 6 minutes of material. Luckily, it was worth it: despite failing to plug in my guitar (not realising until I was halfway through the first song, ARGH!), we got through to the semi-finals! If you’re London-based (or know someone who is), you can watch us compete in the next round on Saturday 15 March at 3pm (tickets at this link). It’s an audience vote, so we would love your support (shout out to my friends Amy and Iris for making the journey)!

• In a couple of weeks, I’m filming something very small but very exciting (to me). I’ve been aff the booze to try and keep a clear head and do it justice. It’s been eating up most of my time outside work, hence the lack of gigs or Glasgow Comedy Festival this year. But I can’t wait to share it and force everyone I know to watch it.

• Stu and I have been discussing trying to do something at the Fringe this year. Ideally, half a Fringe (two weeks) as that’s the most I can afford/get off work. We already have The Fear about accommodation (Oasis, AC/DC etc.), so if anyone has any leads for places to stay in Edinburgh then please get in touch! I know commuting is an option, but the thought of carting my gear (guitar / drums / amp / costumes etc.) back and forth on the M8 each day does not appeal.

Other than the above, I’m just trying to get through winter like everybody else. The Traitors feels like a lifetime ago now. Everyone thinks January is the worst but February and March are the truly brutal months. It’s the hope that kills you.

The weather in London was shite by the way. Raging.

Photographs by the excellent Neil Jarvie

If you missed the tour then you can catch some highlights in my 20-minute “documentary” on YouTube. Bit of a deviation from my one-minute TikToks but I enjoyed putting together something long-form. Also, I’ve been meaning to give YouTube some attention so I can corner the auld-cunts-who-refuse-to-download-TikTok market.

Things I learned:

• Programming three different shows in a row whilst working full-time is Very Stupid

• But no regrets

• Improv isn’t as terrifying as I thought. Each show featured an ‘in conversation’ with a writer (Darren McGarvey, Julie Lin and Josie Long - all brilliant), covering everything from class politics to Malaysian food. As a control freak who scripts everything, I was most nervous about these sections. But actually, they brought a layer of ‘realness’ and jeopardy that was exciting. Perhaps improvising as a character (not Zara) is the secret to taking the fear away!

• I loved doing comedy in non-traditional venues. Comedy clubs are great - for stand up - but there’s no reason for Aileen to be there. Bowling clubs, with their impeccably maintained lawns, local (volunteer) bar staff, wooden plaques and visitor books were the perfect setting. Perhaps not logistically (see PA, projector and lighting hire ££) but definitely emotionally. All venues were wheelchair accessible too, unlike so many basement comedy clubs. And a round of drinks for under a tenner, well…

• People Are Up For Things. We have an amazing community of artists in Scotland. I always get a bit nervous asking if folk are up for collaborating. But generally, people are. And when it happens, it gives you that warm fuzzy feeling. AND the end product is so much more interesting. The mish mash of people in the green room was brilliant: Siobhan Wilson tuning her guitar; Stuart Cromarty in his Victorian gent costume, tucking into pizza; Sophie Rose-McCabe and Matt MacDonald sharing stand-up circuit anecdotes. I loved seeing everyone meeting and mingling, bringing something unique to the table (of snacks).

• A few gold foil curtains is all you need. Seriously, they look class. Moth Club in London have the right idea.

• Music brought moments of poignancy and respite from the relentless comedy. There were wet eyes at every show. Comedians spend their lives masking their torment with gags; Siobhan Wilson, Marigold and Tenement & Temple each gave us 20 precious minutes to let it all out.

• Finally, not so much a learning as a reminder that Libby Walker is a genius. Another batch of beautiful West end inspired art that you can now purchase online (Christmas is coming!).

I’m approaching the storage limit for this email (so many gorge photos!) so I’ll wrap it up there by saying THANK YOU to the artists, tech and venues who made the shows; Creative Scotland for helping to fund it all; and of course the audience (including a few Substackers I imagine) for their support.

Aileen will be on hiatus until spring 2025 while I get stuck into the next top secret thing. Until then!

In the mean time, I’m just checking in to alert my Substack family to the merch drop that my incredible artist collaborator Libby Walker just made on her website.

Libby had the genius idea to make some bespoke West end themed Christmas baubles. Illustrated beautifully, she has immortalised the Christmas Eve queues on Great Western Road, including Aileen’s fight with Joyce MacMillan outside I. J. Mellis.

The tea towels are back! As are Libby’s gorgeous prints. PLUS the best joke that I’ve made in t-shirt form.

My main motivation for taking Aileen on a “world” tour of Glasgow’s West end was the opportunity to have the PARTICKHILL, HYNDLAND, HILLHEAD dates on the back of a classic band t-shirt. Libby hand-painted the design and this was the result:

There are a few left, so if you’re a fan of band tees and hyper niche parochial jokes then grab yours online.

Reflections on the tour soon. Thank you so much to everyone who came along, it means a lot.

Time to catch up on three weeks of washing.

Anyway, I just wanted to pop on and give you a heads up that Aileen’s World Tour will be announced tomorrow, with tickets on sale this Friday 20 September at 10am. Aileen and friends will hit the road on 2nd, 9th and 16th November (all Saturday nights!).

There will be comedy. There will be music. THERE WILL BE TEA TOWELS!

The venues are small, the acts are big (under wraps for now), the vibes are “immaculate” (did I say it right? I used the word “mid” today and my 14 year old mentee said he’d disown me if I ever said it again). The three venues are wheelchair accessible and all come with the all the charm (and presumably cheap bar) you’d expect of a neighbourhood bowling club. I would love to see you there.

Tickets will be on sale via WeGotTickets - the links will appear in my LinkTree on Friday.

In non-comedy news, I recommend coming to the Explorathon festival this weekend at the ARC (Sat 21 / Sun 22 September, 12-3pm) and at Castlemilk Glasgow Club (Friday 27 September, 2.30-5pm). There’s a tonne of stuff to entertain all ages, for free. And Anthony from the Traitors will be there on Saturday playing giant chess (seriously), so at the very least it’s worth popping down for a selfie…

I had a silly idea that made me laugh, and I’m actually doing it! Aileen’s “World” Tour is happening this November in PARTICKHILL - HYNDLAND - HILLHEAD.

Each night will feature a unique line-up of some of my favourite comedians, musicians and writers, who have been guilted by Aileen into helping raise funds for her son Cameron’s gap year. Like any good fundraiser, expect a raffle, cheap drinks and a healthy dose of drama.

Tickets will go on sale once the Fringe is out the way. Substack subscribers will get a heads up, of course!

Speaking of the Fringe, you can catch me headlining Material Girl at The Stand on Saturday 3 August at 1.15pm (tickets on the website) - as well as being very funny ladies themselves, Susan and Amanda have created a beautiful thing, platforming so many women (including Sophie Rose-McCabe and Kim Blythe). Also worth plugging James Gardner who is back from 1-14 August. I could go on and on… if you would like recommendations, drop me an email.

Good luck to everyone who has a show! See you on the other side…

Glasgow Gals Short Film Night - I’ve been following (and admiring) filmmaker Sarah Grant from afar for a while. This was an evening of short films by Glasgow women, to fundraise for Sarah’s latest project “Fight Me” (she smashed her fundraising target, so good things to come!). Washed down with Prosecco and some quality snacks. A very inspiring way to spend a Tuesday. Great to see Kate Hammer’s film “Bear” too, a comedic look at ADHD.

Big City Festival - a festival, in Queen’s Park, curated by Mogwai? Go on then. Think I bumped into half of Glasgow. A happy alternative to Glastonbury, hope it becomes an annual thing.

Material Girl at The Stand - t’was a pleasure to perform at one of the loveliest comedy events in Glasgow with an all-girl line-up (plus Stu). It was Libby Walker’s birthday, so we had a singalong until she was sufficiently embarrased.

My relentless, week of fun continued with LCD Soundsystem last night. Incredible as always. The barras was rammed with ageing millennials dancing like it was 2005.

When will it end?! This TikTok is extremely relateable.

In stranger news, my “Subbuteo” song - inspired by my dad’s niche hobby - has started to gain traction among the Subbuteo community on Facebook, from Derry to southern Italy to Melbourne. As a result, I’ve been invited to perform at the opening ceremony of the Subbuteo World Cup (!). Sadly it’s in Tunbridge Wells and clashes with work. Apparently Subbuteo was invented in Tunbridge Wells, so this year’s event is billed as “Subbuteo coming home!”. Devastated to miss it, frankly. My dad will be there though, flying the flag for Scotland.

I’m taking a gig (and possibly Substack?) hiatus this month to focus on writing. And to relax, maybe. During my physical absence, I’ll be sharing some of the sketches from “Zara Gladman & Friends” on socials. Feel free to validate me with your delicious ‘likes’ and shares.

Byeeeeeee!