As many of you folks may be aware, we here at the comics publishing powerhouse that is Things in Panels (well, me and Nick) are relatively new to the world of distributing comics and going to conventions. Our first adventure was back in May, at the Bristol Comics and Small Press Expo, which turned out to be a highly exciting and addictive experience. With this in mind, we booked ourselves a table for Thought Bubble in Leeds, and hoped for the best… Here is what happened:
Friday
After leaving behind Bristol’s bright blue skies, we plunged the car into thick fog, rain and darkness somewhere in the Midlands and took the edge off the bad driving conditions and grey monotony by listening to Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy. This was a good thing. We hit Leeds and found the hotel with only minimal turning-missing one-way-system-cursing. Eschewing dinner, we immediately scuttled to the drinks reception around the corner. Overwhelmed by the variety of characters on display in the hotel bar, we opted to hide out in a corner, sharing a sofa and table with a gent called Karl. Karl, other than being a very interesting chap, also was at the TB with none other than Suzy Varty. For my sins, I didn’t know about Suzy’s role in the development of the British small press scene, but I know do and can report that she was a lovely, inspiring lady and a good laugh. Suzy also introduced us to Graham Manning, who was also a very nice man.
We then met local comic stalwart Dr Simpo, who took under his eccentric wing and took us out to some awesome little pubs. The night ended with a lock-in, a slice of someone else’s pizza, a conversation about what was (and what was not) a crane fly, some kebab-shop chips and a cup of tea. Good time, late night.
Saturday
We ate breakfast of debatable ethical origin sourced in Tescos, and hit the venue only marginally behind schedule. Our table was up and running by 10.04am. Good times. The day was good – lots of energy, lots of interest, some good sales. I think my high point of the selling side was meeting a couple of people who had bought my comics elsewhere, and wanted to get the latest stuff. It was really nice to know that both Nick and I had folks getting hold of our stuff, unbeknownst to us, but still wanting to get more. So thanks everyone who bought something, and especially those who made such nice comments about Smoo #3 – I’m looking at you, Jordan!
One of the best bits of the day was getting meet some good folks whose work and names I knew, but faces I did not. These included Rob Jackson, the non pseudonym version of Thom Ferrier, Howard Hardiman, Shug Raine, Steve Tillotson, Kenny Penman, the WAWaP folk, Adam Cadwell, and Kayla Hillier. It was especially good to meet Richard Bruton, of the Forbidden Planet International blog. Richard has been so supportive of Smoo in his reviews, and to meet him and find him as lovely as I hoped he would be was fantastic. It was also good to see other folk we had met before, such as Matthew Murray, the Dirty Rotten Comics boys and Lando of Decadence fame.
All in all, though, it was a good experience – hectic, full of energy, too busy to get nearly as many trades or purchases into my grubby mitts as I’d like, but what are you going to do? Get drunk in a casino. What else?
Final thoughts
I’ve been thinking a little about John Allison’s ‘Manifesto for UK Indie Comics’, which emerged in a recent post on John’s blog. The manifesto contained his thoughts and advice on making a living in the UK comics scene. He sounds a bit bummed, a bit bugged and a bit angry. He also sounds like his tongue might be in his cheek a little: I’m not entirely sure. Now, the post has received some coverage, and some thoughtful responses, such as here, and this is understandable: slap the phrase manifesto on something and you’re going to put people’s backs up.
So I’ve thought on this, and I’m trying not to set John up as a straw person, representative of all the things that are challenging and negative about our experiences in the webcomics/small press world: he’s a guy who shared his opinion, not the living embodiment of the ravages of late-capitalism in the digital world. Rather, I want to use his comments as a launchpad for something positive. I think Thought Bubble was a testament to the vibrancy and diversity of the small press scene in Britain and beyond. There is plenty of energy, passion and enthusiasm for the medium, which is a fantastic thing.
However, we do, perhaps, need to find alternate forms of production, distribution and networks through which to operate. That new solution will look different, support us differently, provide for us as artists and as people differently, from what we imagine now. This will make something that looks like neither the print dominated, inward looking ‘1994’ scene that John describes, nor the mark-let, internet only revolution that John has come into contact with. Personally: I like print: print is the thing. I don’t believe necessarily in its primacy, but I do believe in its tactility, its versatility, its value and its accessibility.
What we need will only come into being if we continue to work at our craft, talk to one another and imagine an alternative future for British Small Press Comics. It doesn’t have to recourse to models of production and audiences we don’t want to write for (there is, of course, something to be said to distributing outside of your ‘scene’: I agree totally. It just doesn’t have to compromise the work you make). Solipstisitc Pop, Blank Slate WaWAP are all trying to do this, and succeeding. We need, and have, a critical mass. The more we have events like Thought Bubble, the more we meet and talk, the more chance we have of producing alternative funding models, distribution networks, vehicles for web and print comics and so on. John’s post suggests that complacency in the small press scene is negative: I agree. Nothing happening you like in your area? No audience? No fellow creators? Do something about it. Get stuck in.
Finally, I do comics in and around the rest of my life because comics help me make sense of who I am and what I do. They might be quotidian; they might be introspective; but don’t believe for a minute that I believe those characteristics make my contribution invalid. Small press comics can very much be art, can very much be part of a literary canon and above are NOT a hobby, at least not for me. That I make no money from it is a challenge to face, not one to lie down upon and say ‘print is dead, long live the internet’. Lying down like that isn’t how change starts, it isn’t how change is sustained, and it isn’t how something new and worthwhile comes into being. What I want to ask for is a different future for art, comics, zines, books and the small press in ALL its colours. But the responsibility for that lies with us: if, like me, you don’t like the world John describes, let’s get off our arses and change it.
EDIT: John wrote a clarification of one of his points here. He also points out that his advice wasn’t aimed at those who do comics as ‘art for art’s sake’. My rant is an age old-one directed against a system that distinguishes between art-for-art’s sake and ‘commercial art’, not at John for pointing out that distinction.
