3.0

This was one of the books I received in my surprise box of 30 books from the Wigtown Book Festival last summer and definitely not - despite being, oooooh, a signed copy - a book I would have picked out for myself.

It's a weird one - Ince spends the whole thing musing in a sort of gentle, rambling way about life, the universe and everything AKA what makes us tick AKA anxiety, childhood trauma, imposter syndrome, grief, you know, all that famously winning comedic material. It doesn't tell us anything groundbreaking but is a surprisingly cosy read (the bits with Ricky Gervais notwithstanding).