Image (and cake) by Anna Too-Good-For-Marc.

Jamie’s dirt cheap tickets were lost, so had to throw down eighty quid on the train. I’d missed my train, so had to do the same. After almost missing his, Jamie ended up leaving his portfolio with several pages of art somewhere or another. I’d forgot to bring all the remaining Phonograms, so we only had 5 to sell. Oh - and we’d had the first real kick in the communal balls to do with a Phono-thing we’ll be talking about soon enough.

I say all that to let you grab how big a thing it is to say that Thought Bubble was our fave brit con of the year. Hell, maybe ever.

Last year’s was an intimate affair, which we loved - and was our fave Brit con of the year then too - and have spent all the time since talking it up to anyone who’d listen. We were actually a little bit worried - partially because they’d got a much bigger venue so needed to get a pretty hefty crowd and partially because we’d said it was SO AMAZING!!!! to so many people, if it wasn’t, we’d end up looking stoopid.

So lucky, eh? Tamsin, Lisa and their army of impressively efficient and happy helpers pulled it together. Big Hall - bigger than Bristol - which appeared to be sold out and full. Also, with air conditioning. The actual main speaking events (plus the closing party) was off in the upper rooms of an actual Casino, which certainly changed the character of the place.

It was just really fun. The one day model struck me as perfect for England. You’d think the 2 day would be better, but with a country our size, it’s about all it can support. Also, it works towards creating a critical mass of people. Renting the hall for the day must be more economic - both for the event runners and those who want to get a table. This contributes to cheaper ticket prices - 6:50 here as compared to 16 quid for the weekend in Brum, which attracts a crowd… plus, there’s less room costs AND you don’t get to deal with a slow Sunday after drinking yourself stupid on Sunday night. And people who turn up know that all the events they’ll want to see are on one day, and… oh, it just makes a lot of sense.

(There are events before and after, but they’re not THE BIG CON HALL sort of experience)

Highlights? We did reasonably well, considering our cheery lack of merchandise, which seemed to be echoed from around the hall. McKelvie, Marc Ellerby and myself on the Indie Panel, holding court to a room that literally wasn’t empty. Me discussing method drinking and generally having a good old ramble. Going on the Manga panel, and suspecting I’m about to be found out at any minute. Anna Too-Good-For-Marc bringing cakes, one of which had ITS A METAPHOR on it (Which proved good to attract people to our table). Meeting lots of people who we hadn’t met before.

Evening was the highlight. Curried food - Emma V begging for more Naan Bread, like a Manga-fied Oliver Twist was memorable. Trying to storm the DJ booth with Al Ewing’s Ipod armed with Roachford’s Cuddly Toy, only to find there was no place to put it in. We do eventually get control, and do some solo baptising of the dancefloor before THOUGHT BUBBLE’S MIKEY brings the party with his Apple Mac. Complete School Disco mayhem as the London Small Press Comic Scene try to own the dancefloor, invade the stage and generally act like how people boozed on booze should. There was at least one song where I was on stage doing the messiah act, because I’m really none too bright. And while I’m always a sucker for any gathering with dancing, the joy of the party was the range of things - people moved from the upstairs dancefloor into the bar, around the casino, up to the smoking bit and into the VIP area (Whether or not they were VIPS). Lots of random meetings, incredibly random chat, old friends and stuff. Left us all really genuinely stupid.

(Sean Azzopardi and I wandering down the steps at the end, arms around each other shoulder and pontificating loudly. We’re talking each other into turning money into chips and throwing it down on Roulette, all on a single number. We get as far as seeing if we can find the table. I realise that even if we lose, we can claim we won in a Morrisone-sque piece of self-mythologisation. We were pulled apart beforeit could go any further. Luckily, as I realised we could just as easily have claimed to have done it and won and not done it at all. I’ll get the hang of this lying thing eventually)

(Not the only ones - Words and Pictures’s first con experience featured an enormous poster stating their rules of operation. Julie’s lobbed up her Robosexual strip from their mini, and Sarah’s cover’s there too. See, I only met Sarah this weekend and I’m fine with saying “Sarah” casually like that. It was that kind of con)

I’m also more than a little bit broken still - I started this post this morning and am only getting around to posting this now.

Basically, really good. If you can get there next year, I’d highly recommend it. And a pleasure to catch-up-with/meet/alienate everyone I saw there. Woo!