Stories for Strangers vol. 2. is a collection of stories that were written at the request of strangers. Luke Winter sits with a typewriter in streets around the world, providing stories on demand about any subject that's asked of him. This beautiful little book is a collection of some of those stories, and an account of travelling to busk stories in the street.
This is a book about living as a nomad. It describes a lifestyle of busking in the streets of Spain, sleeping in caves with a community of other nomadic street performers, recycling food and clothes from bins and sleeping under the stars.
It includes stories about Palm Reading, about Sea Shells and Frizzy Hair. It includes stories about the way emotions move between people and stories about getting food poisoning.
It's a fast-paced collection of little worlds within worlds. It's perfect as a commute read, or a 'one story before bed' read. People who have read it have said it gave them the feeling they were travelling themselves, that they re-read it as soon as they finished it.
The book's been lovingly produced, printed on quality papers with illustrations to accompany each story throughout. You won’t find any barcodes on the back or ISBN’s on the inside. This is a self published spectacular that can’t be bought in major bookstores. It's full of poems, short stories of alternative ways of living, and scenes of hope.
Each order includes goodies, like 6x4 photo prints and stickers :)
108 pages. self-published, 16,000 words, 1st edition of 1088 books.
"A kaleidoscopic vision of the millennial traveller scene. A hall of mirrors for all those who wonder if the other souls in the street are as lost as they find themselves."- Reginald Smeasley, Wanderer's Weekly"Beautifully illustrated and lovingly crafted. An inspiring meander through scenes less spoken about in the lives of others."- Beanora Throbbington, International Times
Iron-on fabric patch, 66mm, the size of a the base of a cup of tea.
Silver, dark green and metallic silver threads on green fabric background. Iron-on adhesive backing.
I'll chuck in 10+ vinyl stickers of the emblem with each order too :)
Six sketches that were cut from Stories for Strangers 2. About magic colours, synchronicity, a spanish disco, the man who runs a kebab shop, and a little story about dragons.
Printed on blue paper in blue and black ink. 16 pages.
Rainbow typewriter ink ribbon for use on nearly all typewriters.
Type in multiple colours.
I use these ribbons to write stories for strangers on the street with my typewriter.
Each ribbon is handmade by me, and will take 3-5 days to prepare.
2m long ribbons cost £14
4m long ribbons cost £18
- Ribbon width is half an inch, standard ribbon width for nearly every typewriter.
- The inks used to make each ribbon are acid-free, fade-resistant, non-toxic and child-safe.
- Each ribbon can be used multiple times. The longest I've used a single ribbon was for 6 months, writing each week. Lighter colours will become grubbier with multiple uses over time. Darker colours less so.
- Standard length of ribbon is 2m, which allows about an A4 page of typing before it needs rewound. Longer lengths available, just ask :)
- Does not ship with typewriter spools. Is assumed you will have spools on your current ink ribbon that can be used to attach this ribbon (fitting instructions included)
- gold and metallic inks are no longer available, metallics don't stand up to multiple uses as well as the other inks.
- custom colour combinations (alternating orange and black and purple and green for halloween, or turquoise and peach melba, just 'cos) available (gonna cost a bit more dough). For all custom requests or questions, just email me, firstname.lastname@example.org :)
"Now the land that I knew is a dream.And the line of the distance grows faint.So wide is my river;The horizon a sliver,The artist has run out of paint"- Johnny Flynn
The Water is a photo poem about how difficult it can be to make decisions.
A blend of photos, and prose. Featuring hunks, mountains, seas, streams, life slipping by, as time drips, and nothing is done.
Made from photos I took on a USA road trip, photos in London, and photos from the West coast of Scotland.
A3 spreads, printed on 170gsm uncoated paper, 36 pages.
Pay what's fair, £10 min :)
Each order ships with some 6x4 prints & stickers :)
1st Edition of 25 sold out, 26/07/16
2nd Edition of 25 sold out, 08/10/16
3rd Edition of 50
Hardback of Stories for Strangers vol. 2, handmade by Wainwright Bookbinding.
Limited edition of 44.
Bound in yellow cloth, with white foil design on front / spine & rear and a translucent wrap around.
*3 copies have become available as of June 2018. The rest of the edition is sold out.*
44 page zine. Handmade. 6,700 words.
Life is Weird Enough is the personal tale of a story that happened around me, or to me, or story in which I was in some parts of the orbit. The stories within it revolve around fate, consumerism, misery, and names. It is a story about stories. It contains multiple short stories within a larger story, that drifts over continents and through lives. The book asks how stories happen, and how stories work. It's an experiment in telling a story that does not have an ending.
I've made Life is Weird Enough by hand from four types of paper (120gsm uncoated luxe, 80gsm recycled yellow, 30gsm translucent white, 240gsm purple card) . It was printed on a desktop inkjet, hand cut by guillotine, and bound with a sewing machine in complimentary purple and yellow threads. I’ve jazzied a rune onto each jacket with the top players from my pencil case.
Stories don’t solve much. They don’t end for starters. They go on, after their telling, to create more mysteries. Kurt Vonnegut used to finish his books with ‘E.T.C.’ Maybe that’s the answer.I could use a million words to tell this story and come no closer to its mystery. A space exists within stories where nature still keeps her secrets, where effect does not follow cause and logic becomes baffled. I am glad. For where mysteries live, so does imagination. And where we make space for imagination can grow hope, wonder and love.
Chapter #1Roo is that kid who is faster than everyone else, climbs the tree that no one else can, jumps between the roofs that look too far apart. "You're not made of rubber and yeh cannit fly," his Dad would yell after him as he left the house.Roo skates. Roo drinks too much. Roo plays funk bass and Roo gets top grades in school. But the only book I ever saw him read for fun was the script of Pulp Fiction, and he was mouthing along to it.So after the two of us have left high school, Roo's in London at uni studying something called Geophysics, and I'm in Glasgow studying stories. One Sunday afternoon, mid-autumn in Glasgow, my main Glaswegian, Cheesy, calls asking "What y'up tae?" Now, when Cheesy calls and ask what you're up to, designs have already been made on your time. Cheesy is telling me that he's leaving in an hour to DJ a new night in Dundee. The promoter has sorted his travel, meals, accommodation and a plus one. So Cheesy repeats, "What y'up tae?" Life is Weird Enough, pp. 1 - 2.
"It's easy to look back, join the dots between events, and say "of course.” But to the person in the present, time isn't that way. To the person who wakes up, staring toward an unscheduled afternoon, with no idea of what they should do with it, the present is wild, not a story that feels in any way resolved. Compared with retelling, living out life is bewildering. Somehow, amid the present’s confusions, you have to say "this might seem mad, but I trust it. I am learning lessons I don't yet understand. I love you, keep going." Life is Weird Enough, p. 20.
Pay what's fair pricing, £6 min. all orders inc. stickaz and pho-toes
"What's he waiting for?"
"Do you think he knows?"
"You know I don't think that he does."
Seven short & medium length stories. About a lady giving birth to a fish, about male toxicity and breakups, about an artist, the death of a dog, about a vegetable competition and someone who steals food from their flatmates. There are a bunch of anti-advert poems in the back.
Made by hand with sumptuous 120gsm paper with 180gsm for the cover. Bound using gold and orange thread the same colours as the titles.
"He is standing inside her parent’s front door at precisely 18:15, and as she appears he catches his breath like the man does in the movies when he sees the princess walking down the stairs. She looks stunning, has stunned him. Her blonde hair is parted just so, and her lips look like sofas, if sofas could be moist and pink. He understands that he’s nervous and knows that he can’t tell her that her lips look like sofas so, when she approaches, he says she looks just like a movie star. He names the biggest movie star of the day, and she blushes and they both know they have had the right effect on each other. Each know they are playing the right roles and that this first date is going well." Stories While I Waited, p. 6.
"I was gonna tell you about people meeting and looking down and wishing they’d said things and not being sure but wanting to make the right impression and blurting and nervousness. But managing it finally and... How neither people nor dialogue are as self assured as in them movies. But people like power, admire surety as strength, strength as wisdom. Poise and eloquence give us something to aspire to. We venerate what we are not, and shudder from that which we are. So we watch them movies, jealous of the poise of their dialogue. Then we go out and tell people who deserve to be treated like humans the neat and nasty little things that we heard from movie scripts and once thought clever. This inflicts a great violence. " Stories While I Waited, p.8.
Adding assault to injury,Sirens came to mend the evening. &On tubs of peanut butter, what could be religious aphorisms. They say:“Spread the energy.”&On the eve of war, the goverment release statement:“we’re oil in this together.”&Christmas lights the marketwith tourists extorted.&Definitely Maybe, Possibly Something. Stories While I Waited, p.20.
20 pages. Pay what's fair, £3 min.
Huge double sided poster produced to accompany Stories for Strangers vol. 2.
Illustration on side A by Juan Patino. Photograph on side B a photo by Luke Winter of his morning writing spot in Spain.
A2 in size and printed on thick 250gsm paper. Ships unfolded in a tube, which costs more for postage. If you'd prefer it folded before posting to save a couple of quid, just email me ( email@example.com ).
Pay what's fair, £4 min :)
18 page zine. Handmade. 2,600 words in which Burt Bickers, legendary gambler, discusses the improbability of flying. The latest story in the 'Bickers' series.
Featuring one dead halibut, one escape-pea, one description of clouds looking like cauliflowers and a lot of bad puns about cats, the story is told in a gummy cartoon style, filled with nonsense and philosophy.
Each zine is made by hand from three types of paper. It's designed and produced by lil ol' me, printed on a desktop printer, cut with a guiloteen, sewn on a sewing machine and delivered into your hands to cause amazement that anything such as this could have been printed on a home computer.
“We certainly are a race who seem adept at adapting to unusual circumstances,” said Kurt’s mum, fingering her wedding ring.“We all share those rare moments, I believe,” went on Burt, unfazed, “when the veil of illusion is lifted. Then life shines bizarre and brilliant, and the normal is suddenly revealed as a wondrous experience. You know those moments that you look around and say ‘where on earth am I? How did I get to be here? How has my entire life led, somehow, to witnessing this?’”“Some people have that sensation a lot,” Kurt’s mother blurted. A silence opened up at the table. Kurt’s mother pushed it away by saying:“Enlightenment is achieving the realisation that every ordinary sensation contains the possibility to wonder at the infinite,”Kurt scribbled “Wonder at the Infinite” into his mental journal under ‘band names.’“I have that sensation in supermarkets sometimes,” his Dad continued, “watching the shoppers with their rickety trolleys, with one wheel that veers off to the side. The loud packaging on goods from the other side of the globe lit by lanes of electric lights. Meat gurning in strangled plastics from the fridges. A very strange environment, more like a space station than a bartering outpost. How did any of us humans come to walk around this place and think it mundane. Repetition, conditioning, I expect. But I imagine being a pilot like Earheart, you must at all moments realise the electric improbability of controlling a thin tube of metal and electronics as you hurtle through blank hee-haw.” Burt Bickers in 'A Run of the Mill', pp.10-11.
Pay what's fair, £3 min. :)
For eighteen months Luke Winter has been writing spontaneous stories for strangers on a typewriter about any subject they give him as he sits in the street. Stories While They Waited, his first book, is a collection of thirty-five of those stories.
Included are the stories that were written for strangers, and stories about the strangers making their requests.
It's a good 'one story before bedtime' kind of book, or 'two stories on the commute to work' kind of book. it includes stories that make it a ‘I don't want to think too hard today' kind of book, while it's also a 'life is weird in ways that make me glow inside' kind of book.
The book was lovingly designed and illustrated by Penguin Children's Book Designer of The Year 2015, Andy King.
Signed 1st edition of 600 copies. 96 pages. -- 15 copies remain, 24/6/17.
min. £9, Pay What You Want pricing :)
Short story about the world's most prolific gambler, Kurt Bickers, as he spectates the most important race of his career: a race between a Micropig and a Dachshund.
Told in a fast-paced, cartoon style. Full of spooky mumbo-jumbo and gummy nonsense.
Printed on lush 140gsm paper, hand bound with golden thread, includes infantile illustrations by hand.
It was a straight choice between a micropig and a dachshund named Colin. Bickers scratched the nib of the pen on his betting card. The sun beat down with the fury of a drunk father and the shadows fled it, searching the stands for narrows of shade under the rims of hats, between drinking straws and cup lids, and between the wrinkles on the forehead of Kurt Bickers, as he sweated and mumbled, holding a pair of 1940's Zeiss binoculars to his eyes. Kurt's father, Burt Bickers, had bequeathed to his son only what his own father had left to him: a pair of binoculars from the second world war, and an unquenchable urge to gamble. Over three generations the Bickers had gambled on nearly everything. Arrival dates of camel trains in the Gobi desert, what would be discovered to be the chemical makeup of rocks on Mars... Kurt Bickers in 42, p.1.
When asked by less prolific gamblers if many rituals propped up his occasional runs of incredible luck, Bickers answered in the negative. He was keen to distance his gut instinct from what most people called superstitions. His intuition could survive trans-continental flights, flutes of champagne, orchestras of lager, trains of cigarettes, volcanic amounts of fast food and hollywood amounts of hurry, without needing worry about lucky socks, scarves, numbers, colours, names, jewellery, animals, underpants or otherwise. But, despite his hoo-pooing of superstition and ritual, at times as tense as this, out would slip the little Bickers hex. "Ochetty brao-hoppity grin dasha mimble," muttered Bickers again. Kurt Bickers in 42, p.3.
88mm Patch, Sew-On, Silver & Metallic Silver Thread.
Each order ships with stickers.