This year, by a mixture of design and accident, the task of getting up early in the morning was not hampered by a hangover. Given the shenanigans of last year’s event, and the London Small Press event earlier this year, this was a relatively novel (and refreshing) experience, meaning that we arrived at the venue bright eyed and bushy tailed (actually, that’s a lie) and ready to sell lots of comics and have a good time (that bit’s true). Our table was in the main hall, tucked in a corner at the back of the room (I chose the table, so cannot complain about this). We tethered our banner betwixt a dreadful ‘painting’ (wallpaper design on canvas, but then, this is a hotel) and a fake bush in the corner (ditto). We spread out our wares. We were ready.

Saturday went by smoothly, and sales were good. In the afternoon, we took part in a panel on Comics and Mental Health, organised by Ian Williams. We spoke alongside Katie Green and Ian about our own experiences with mental illness and making comics, and it turned out to be an important, and in many ways, empowering experience for me (more on that in Part 3 tomorrow). After the panel, the last couple of hours of the Expo slipped by, and Nick, Ian and I retired to the pub for a quick pint, before Nick and I headed to mine to watch Eurovision (Moldova were our favourites, should you be curious). Sunday also rolled by much the same as Saturday, slow and steady. As usual, the delirium and fatigue of being sociable and approachable took its toll, and by the end, I think Nick and I had lost the power of coherent speech (if we ever had it). However, we hung on to the last minute while others packed up around us, hoping for one more sale. Our patience paid off with an 11^th hour sale to a nice man whose name we don’t know, but who was who good enough to take pity on the needy look, writ large across our wan, Dickensian-urchin faces.

It was a strange couple of days in some ways. On the one hand, it seemed slow, quiet, and there also appeared to be an ever-present patch of carpet in front of our table upon which nobody seemed to be prepared to walk. This phenomenon was noted by the chaps on the tables either side of us, as we pleadingly looked to the passers-by not to cut the corner and come see us. Things definitely never got busy – not in the way we had experienced at previous events, and that felt mildly perturbing. On the other hand, we met interesting folk, had interesting conversations and had, overall, a good time. Also, the Sorry Entertainer, which was enjoying its debut, went down a storm, and we actually made more, and sold more, than we have at any Expo to date.

I guess, in many respects this year was a bit of a full circle for me and Nick; Bristol last year was our first ever Expo, and I think the anticipation, the lovely weather, the new faces and new experiences of the 2010 event lent to it an air of the unknown, that made the experience much more exciting. This year, I think, we were just a little more familiar with the process of selling at an Expo, and with it being in our home town, we felt like it was less of an adventure. I think also, although we know there’s not a great deal of money in this game, our own circumstances meant that the pressure to make more, so that we could afford to eat and whatnot, was greater this year. There were fewer trades than last year, too (though that also has as much to do with capacity in my little flat, as it does with anything else). In all, however, it was worthwhile, and depending on where life takes us, we have every intention of being back next year.

Here we are, me scaring the punters, Nick (Mis-Comp) looking on. Note the delicious fake painting.

Tomorrow – Bristol Comic and Small Press Expo 2011, Pt. 2 – On Comics and Mental Health