I must say, I had a thoroughly wonderful time at Thought Bubble in Leeds last weekend. It's a serious comics festival, with workshops and exhibitions, that includes, on the Saturday, a dealers' room -based comic convention, with a curtained-off panel area in one corner of a big hall full of dealers. I did some serious socialising in the hotel bar on the Friday night, meeting the great artist Ben Templesmith for the first time, hanging out with Emma Vieceli, Adi Granov, Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie and ending up, as is becoming almost usual now, fixing the world in the early hours with Andy Diggle. Add to that my old mates from the Millarworld message boards, many of whom were working on the show, and I felt thoroughly warmed by good company. A chill set in, unfortunately, when I returned to the hotel room and couldn't sleep, and ended up simply staying up all night, worrying about all the stuff which doesn't seem nearly so terrible in the day. It was work related, and has now largely evaporated, but it was a tough old night.
On the Saturday, I plonked myself at my table, under the sign with my name on it, and proceeded to meet the public, sign things, and give away free comics all day, which, it turned out, I really enjoyed. It helped that I was sitting next to the Marvel artist Barry Kitson -
Who shares, according to the Millarworld guys, the title of 'nicest man in comics' with Mike Carey. To our surprise, it turned out we spent our childhoods within a few miles of each other: I recognised the accent. I did one panel, John Mosby of
Impact magazine interviewing me, Adi, Diggle and Jock about the interface between comics and film and television, which I thought went very well, and seemed to please the audience.
One of the loveliest things about the event was how cosplay has arrived at comic conventions. Girls in anime costumes everywhere, a majorly competitive contest between them, and that now, finally, starting to extend into the superhero worlds too -
Longtime readers will recognise the Millarworld Thor's hammer. I've really enjoyed the influx of enthusiastic young women into both comics and
Doctor Who fandom: their fannish glee just makes everything better. When Rose, the young craftswoman who was put in charge of looking after us starts talking about how she's been a comics fan for six weeks, and how 'Tony (Stark) and Steve (Rogers) secretly love each other', you know something new is starting to happen.
Which gives a feeling for the day, I think. In the evening, the guests were treated to a fabulous Muslim restaurant meal, and the lack of alcohol at the table was frankly very welcome. Then we went on to the top floor of a casino/nightclub, where the afterparty was being held. By this point, I'd been awake for a hallucinogenic length of time, and thought DJ sets from the great Al Ewing, Gillen and McKelvie, and a playlist from Penny Broadhurst were hugely attractive, I just stuck my head into the Geek Syndicate live podcast, then stumbled off home.
I had breakfast the next morning with Marvel editor Steve Wacker, who I'd never really met before. He turned out to be a thoroughly nice chap, with that attractive New York badda bing that Marvel seems to coach its folk in, and loads of sincerity backing it up. He'd been looking at portfolios and meeting the public and creators for almost as long as I'd been awake, but, like me, seemed buoyed up by how well looked-after we'd been. It's a real sign of a good attitude when there's always a steward popping by to ask if the poor dehydrated creators want some more water. Judging by the numbers through the door, the event seems to have been a great success with the public also. Organisers Lisa Wood, Clark Burscough and Michael Bennett (and my old mates Sabrina and Mark Peyton) deserve congratulations on a superb event. Alongside Birmingham, it feels like the new generation of British comic conventions is thriving. Now, if only Thought Bubble could organise a new UK comics awards!
It's good to have peers, and in British comics I really feel welcomed by the friends I have. A drunken pile of them in a hotel bar is always a welcome sight. Cheerio!
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