Hey there.
You can e-mail me at danny@dannywallace.com, but I’m afraid I’m not always able to reply to everything I get – although I do read ‘em all. For updates, you can sign up to the mailing list, or join this Facebook group. Or, if you’re part of the Twitterati, there’s this: @dannywallace.
Question for me? Well, below you’ll find some answers to some fairly questions that newspapers have asked me over the years, which may contain what you need. Or are you trying to find an email address so you can send me a picture of someone you think looks just like me. Hang on – I think I know the guy. Glasses? Yeah. You’re right. He does! So no need to send that big bulky email! But I hope you’re well, and on the business side of things…
BUSINESS
I’m represented by Lisa Thomas at Lisa Thomas Management.
For books, speak to Simon Trewin at United Agents.
For foreign rights, it’s Jessica Craig at United Agents.
For film and screenwriting, I’m represented by Independent.
In the United States, I’m represented by the United Talent Agency.
Voiceover work is through Alex Lynch-White at Earache.
FAQ&A
What would you accept for payment apart from money?
Good karma. Or a big horse made from diamonds.
What’s your favourite game?
I still find hide and seek disproportionately exciting, although I am now more burly than I was at four, meaning I can now no longer hide behind small trees.
If you were a meal, what would it be?
Curry and a six pack. A six pack of beer, I mean. Curries don’t tend to lead to the other kind.
Favourite work of art?
There’s something about Anthony Gormley’s Angel of the North that I’m drawn to. Either that or the Big Boxing Crocodile of Humpty Doo.
Recommend a book.
Diary of a Nobody by George and Weedon Grossmith is my favourite. So much so my wife gave me a signed first edition from 1892. If you’ve not read it read it
Strongest childood memory?
Chasing a fat black cat around the field outside our old cottage in Scotland.
What question would you most like an answer to?
Was there ever nothing?
Who understands you best?
English speakers. And my tiny wife.
What moment in history would you travel to?
I’d probably pop back and say hello to Jesus, if only to prepare him for his impending celebrity, and warn him about his dad.
Do you need much sleep?
I like eight hours. Eight hours awake, I mean.
What conversation would you like to erase?
I think I’m at ease with the conversations I’ve had.
Have you ever said I love you and not meant it?
No. But I did accidentally put a little kiss on the end of an angry email to the council recently.
What’s the worst thing anyone’s ever said to you?
I’d only have to type my own name into google to find out. Anonymity is an abused priviledge, abused most by people who mistake vitriol for wisdom and cynicism for wit.
Guilty pleasure?
A Big Mac. But it’s amazing how the guilt disappears if you pop one on a proper plate and concentrate on the healing power of gherkins.
Would you want to live forever?
Too long. I’d like to live nearly forever.
What is the closest you’ve ever come to death?
I was once in a Tiger Moth as it sliced into the side of a private jet on a runway, inches from the fuel pipe. It was a rubbish plane crash, but hey it counts.
Property aside, whats the most expensive thing you have bought?
What I was in my Yes period, I bought a car off a bloke at a party, just because he said, I don’t suppose youd be interested in buying a car, would you?
What superpower would you like?
The power to control time. At the moment, all I can do is change it on my watch and pretend.
What is the worst job you have ever done?
Shifting boxes of weightlifting equipment when I only weighed the same as an apple.
What inspired you to embark on a career in the media?
Shifting boxes of weightlifting equipment when I only weighed the same as an apple. But I think there was a moment when I was watching the first episode of Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush when I realised blimey thats someone’s job! To be involved in something that seemed to be so much fun, and so cool, and so funny, seemed like a complete dream.
When you were 15 years old which newspaper did your family get, and did you read it?
The Guardian, The Independent, The Telegraph. I’m not sure I really read them, to be honest, but I did get Private Eye and pretend to understand it all.
And what were your favourite TV and radio programmes?
It’s unfashionable to say it, or maybe it’s ironic-fashionable now, but Noel’s House Party. I think in its prime it was genuinely one of the best shows on TV. Imaginative, original, warm, inclusive and with some of the finest ideas for Saturday night fun that are still being stolen today. NTV was probably the most exciting idea ever.
Describe your job?
Writing and talking.
What’s the first media you turn to in the mornings?
I’ll switch LBC on as I wake up, and I’ll have The Wright Stuff on while I potter about, bumping into things and trying to find the kettle. Its handy for finding out what’s in the newspapers without trudging down to the newsagents, and also handy as I am particularly interested in Anton Du Beke’s take on world events.
Do you consult any media sources during the day?
Yeah. I’ll get the news from bbc.co.uk and I’ll watch Channel 4′s News at Noon, to get me ready and informed for Loose Women at 12.30. I also keep my eye on broadcastnow.co.uk
What do you tune into when you get home?
I fall asleep listening to the radio. Either Richard Bacon on 5Live, or Ian Collins on TalkSport. They’re both such great broadcasters, able to mix the funny and the serious with great ease. Although I preferred Richard Bacon when he had the polyp on his throat. It leant him great authority.
What is the best thing about your job?
Being able to have a bath at two o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon.
And the worst?
Worrying that I’m able to have a bath at two o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon.
How do you feel you influence the media?
I’d rather influence a reader.
What’s the proudest achievement in your working life?
I think, so far, it’s that Warner Bros have made a movie out of one of my books.
And what’s your most embarrassing moment?
Being at a BBC party to celebrate the awards various programmes had won. I saw a novelty get-your-picture-taken-with-a-fake-BAFTA stall and drunkenly convinced Alan Yentob to have his photo taken with me holding a fake BAFTA. He didnt really understand what was going on, but gamely had his photo taken with me. I had my arm around him at one point. As he left, I thanked him, and he shook my hand firmly and congratulated me on my achievements. I was confused. I asked the photogapher where I could pick up my novelty photo. He told me they were already with the press. I went white. It was not a novelty BAFTA stall. It was a real display, for real BAFTA winners, with real BAFTAS, and I’d just grabbed one and had my picture taken with Yentob, who clearly thought I was responsible for Walking With Dinosaurs. Two days later, I popped as a strangely-unnamed winner on a magazine website. I am still receiving congratulations to this day.
What is your Sunday paper? And do you have a favourite magazine?
The Observer, The Independent on Sunday, and the News of the World. Guess which one I read first.
Name the one career ambition you want to realise before you retire?
The Eurovision Song Contest commentary.
What would you do if you didn’t work in the media?
I think I’d still have to do something along those lines, even if it was just editing the parish newsletter.
Who in the media do you most admire and why?
Jonathan Ross for pioneering, reinvention and quick wit. Terry Wogan for comfort, reassurance and warmth. And John Pidgeon, my mentor at the BBC, who took me on as a trainee a finer and more creative man youre not likely to meet.
First holiday memory?
Wearing a tiny cowboy hat and sitting on an air-bed with my incredibly tanned Dad in the sea in Mallorca.
Best holiday?
When I was a kid, we spent one summer in the south of France. All I did was read Asterix, but I came back browner, healthier and happier than after any holiday.
Favourite place in the British Isles?
The Highlands. I remember going with a friend when I was a kid and staying in a disused watermill. I love it in Scotland because of the natural wonder on your doorstep.
What have you learnt from your travels?
That most people are nice, wherever you go.
Ideal travelling companion?
A man I met in Barcelona called Marc. It was his philosophy to say “yes” to everything. If I travelled with him, we’d go off and have ridiculous experiences.
Beach bum, culture vulture or adrenalin junkie?
I like to be a beach bum.
Greatest travel luxury?
I realise this makes me sound like Elton John, but if I’m on the road for a few weeks, a Molton Brown travel pack. It’s nice to crack open something with a familiar smell.
Holiday reading?
A classic, a bit of non-fiction and something for fun. I recently read Lord of the Flies, Cosa Nostra: A History of the Sicilian Mafia and Mike Gayle’s Wish You Were Here.
Where has seduced you?
Fagernes in Norway: acres of fir trees, a deer skipping gayly, salmon leaping… In my head I was one step away from a bird landing on my shoulder and talking to me. It was like a Disney cartoon.
Better to travel or arrive?
After being in economy-class hell on a flight to Shanghai, it’s nice to put your bags down.
Worst travel experience?
In Egypt with my friend Ross. We almost had guns pulled on us by airport security as we tried to convince them we were supposed to be on the EgyptAir plane.
Worst holiday?
Returning home from Sorrento to find that builders had inexplicably moved into my flat. I walked in to find scaffolding, half-empty tins of paint, a T-shirt on my pillow and a little surprise in the toilet. I nearly went back to Heathrow.
Best hotel?
The Park Hyatt in Sydney. The concierge was like a genie you could pick up the phone and he would get you anything. In the end we were setting him little challenges like, “We want to go to a roller disco but they don’t have any size 11 boots.”
Worst hotel?
A ryokan in Tokyo. It was a great hotel, but built for someone not quite as burly as me. Every time I walked down a corridor I’d break something, slam a door in an old woman’s face or bruise myself.
Favourite walk/swim/ride/drive?
Driving on New Zealand’s Great Barrier Island, where I was for Castaway. I’d sometimes finish work at 6am, and drive up gravel roads and through streams. I’d get out of the car to watch the sun rise over crystal-clear water, which dolphins would leap from.
Best meal abroad?
The best curry I’ve ever had was in Warsaw’s only curry house. It was cooked by Tony Tandoori, a part-time stand-up comedian who employed models as waitresses.
First thing you do when you arrive somewhere new?
I watch the local news because you can judge quickly what sort of town you’re in. In Auckland there was a story about a man who’d been expelled from school for having a tattoo then trained to be a plumber, which outraged people.
Dream trip?
I quite like the idea of a half-safari, half-beach holiday.
Favourite city?
I got a huge kick out of Shanghai. I like completely alien places. I was constantly being stared at, even by other Westerners.
Where next?
I think I’m going to have a London holiday by doing the things I always do if I’m somewhere else.
How has your life changed since becoming a daddy?
Well, there are the awards, of course. I was so surprised and touched last year when, on my first-ever Father’s Day, I received a badge from my tiny son which read, “World’s Best Dad”. I was absolutely amazed. I had no idea I’d even been entered into the competition. To win it on my first attempt was a truly wonderful thing, and I just hope it will act as inspiration to other dads.
Of course, when I started to tell my friends about winning World’s Best Dad, they said things like “Oh, yeah, I got one of those, too,” which is quite sad, isn’t it, but I suppose people act weirdly when they’re jealous. One of them did show me a badge which looked quite similar, but I’m fairly certain this must have been some kind of regional heat.
Anyway, I should probably take this opportunity to once again thank everyone who voted! Fingers crossed I win again today!
How have you changed as a person since becoming a dad?
I’m a more tired person. It had never really occurred to me that there was a five in the morning before I was a dad. I’d heard talk of it, of course, and I knew there was one in the early evening because of that Dolly Parton song, but this new five o’clock – this morning one – was a revelation. What was it for? Why is it there? Do people actually do things at five in the morning? Well, yes, as it happens. Five in the morning is when you can usually catch me blearily holding my son’s hand as he decides he wants to walk round and round the sofa for the ninth time in quick succession while a Waybuloo DVD plays on repeat and various stuffed animals scream their pre-recorded catchphrases out at me as I stumble over their paws and tails.
Were you there for the birth?
Yes, my wife had told me it was happening, so I decided to pop by.
Was it how you imagined?
It was amazing, of course, and wonderful and beautiful and touching and a million other things besides. It was an emergency C-section in the end, because as it turned out, my son was perfectly happy where he was. It was warm, and he had everything he needed, so probably wasn’t in a huge hurry to join us for the winter, where there are cars and fumes and clouds and noise and worry. But I don’t think he minds it, now he’s here.
Are there certain jobs, errands or tasks you do now because you are a father that you wouldn’t have done before?
I knew I needed to man up a bit. And having a son did make that happen. I used to use handymen for quite simple tasks, which I think made them think that I was quite simple, too.
Now, though? Now I read instruction manuals! I have allen keys! I own an electric drill and I know what some of the settings mean! I build cabinets and hang pictures and fix locks and use insulation tape. Having a kid means your generation has more responsibilities. There are new people in town. And it’d be embarrassing if they thought you couldn’t operate a drill.
Have you participated in any baby groups?
My son is very cultured. There’s Sparky Songs with Richard. Baby Bounce. Toddler World. Gymboree. He has fun.
Mind you, he’s now a proper toddler; always at one end of the emotional spectrum or the other. Either there’s intense joy because I’ve made a noise he finds funny, or incredible despair, because I won’t let him steer the car or smear make-up inside lamps. As he flings his arms in the air and drops to his knees, railing against the injustices of this strange new world, it only makes me love him more.
I tried to describe having a toddler recently. I think it’s like someone’s thrown an Ewok through your window and he’s found his way to the Red Bull in your fridge.
Perhaps too young yet but has he unintentionally embarrassed you in public?
Not too long ago he was asleep in my wife’s arms while she was on the phone to a builder. She didn’t mention this, because why would she? Anyway, she says goodbye and thank you to the builder, and he says goodbye too, and then, just before she’s hung up, the baby wakes up and does a massive burp. The builder must have hung up thinking my wife was the type of woman who has entire conversations quite politely and then ends them on a belch. My wife was mortified.
How has you relationship with your wife changed?
We’re closer than ever. We’re now not just individuals together by choice, but partners bound by something incredible.
I’m so happy to be my little boy’s dad, and she’s so happy to be his mum.
Our son is too young to tell us how much he loves us yet, but I like to think that every time he wants to, he simply soils his nappy.
And this must mean he loves us really very much indeed.
How did your time at university shape or help your career?
It was invaluable. It made me realise that really, ideas are what matter most. I’d always wanted to learn how I could turn the ideas I was having into something real and tangible. Westminster gave me the tools – in all senses – to make that happen.
What has always angered me is the short shrift courses like some of those offered by the University of Westminster get from the media in general. I took Media Studies, and before setting off for London was told by a then pretty big figure in media that I was making a terrible mistake. That he “would never, ever give a job to someone who did a bloody media degree.”. I told him, shaking slightly, that I was willing to take that chance. Also, I had to: I’d booked my train ticket. My graduating year alone proves just how wrong he was: my fellow students (the ones to whom he’d never, ever give a job) are now, among many other things, senior producers at 5Live, media correspondents at the Standard and other newspapers, journalists, producers, senior PRs in charge of huge national brands, promo producers, company execs heading up major European digital stations, brand managers, presenters and more.
I’ve always, therefore, been a huge advocate of my university, Westminster, and its courses, and have largely and through tense experience found those who blindly criticise or lazily dismiss it to be blank-eyed elitists or too idle to do their research.
Which is ironic, given that it’s just that research that the University urges you to do so well.
Because the fact is, the course I did set me – and others – on a fantastic path. It made us work, it made us think, and crucially – and I don’t apologise for ramming this point home – it taught us how to take ideas and make them real.
You still have to work, though. (That’s both the best and the most annoying thing about it.)
What’s your proudest achievement in your career?
I think my books are my proudest achievements, and from those books have come some really lovely career moments…
Walking down the red carpet with Jim Carrey at the London premiere of the film Yes Man, based on my book, was pretty cool, and an amazing way to see in 2009.
Or on the Warner Bros backlot in LA with ABC earlier this year, shooting the pilot for my sitcom, Awkward Situations for Men, and seeing the director setting up my first scene (he’d directed 90 episodes of my favourite-ever comedy Seinfeld, so I was nervous about my acting not quite living up to what he’s used to…)
It’s hard, talking about ‘achievements’, not to sound like a complete tool, so I’ll qualify it by saying that these achievements are obviously nothing compared to proper, bona-fide achievements that cure, help or solve… but I can’t deny they made me feel all warm and lovely inside.
What advice do you have for current students and graduates?
I wouldn’t presume to tell the graduates anything, but for the current students, it’s easy: work hard, get involved, have fun.
The having fun part comes naturally, but it’s the bit people usually miss out or forget to tell you not to feel guilty about. Because this should be fun. You should be going out, you should be waking up late and confused wondering how you ended up with a cat and three gnomes in your room, you should be embracing the social side of university. Some of the people you’ve only just met will be in your life – important parts of your life – from now until forever.
As for the working hard and getting involved parts – think about what you’re good at, as you learn. Do you also enjoy what you’re good at? Then that’s what you need to focus on. Because the best job you can get out of all this – and that, after all, is why the majority of you are here – is one that’ll make you feel like you never really left.
It’ll be… fun. And it’ll surprise you. Maybe even delight you.
But: realise you might have to make other people’s tea for a while.
And after that? You’ll be grand.
I want to write a book. Can I send you my idea? Will you steal the idea?
No, I won’t steal it, but no, it’s probably best if you don’t send it to me. Because what if it crosses over with something I’ve done, am doing, or might want to do? It’s bad for both of us, and you’ll end up feeling all annoyed or deflated.
The advice is simple: the only way to do it is to do it. Then, when you’ve done it, write it up. It’s a good idea to get a few chapters down – 10,000 words is a good amount – so that people can see if you can write, and you can see whether the idea is strong enough to sustain a book. Then, you need to find an agent who represents people you like or books you adore. Tell them why you would be a good fit on their roster. Show them you’re committed and knowledgable. (Don’t just email my guy because you’ve found his email, either! He’ll know what you’re up to because he’s wise like that) And give them plenty of time to read. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket – send your stuff out to as many people as you like, and don’t just go with the first person who’ll have you. Your relationship with your agent is crucial, as is their relationship with publishers. Be patient, too. My friend Mike Gayle has some great tips here too… and good luck!
