THAT WAS THEN, THIS IS NAO (TROISIÉME ACTE)

JANUARY 31

I remember waking to total darkness. The kind of darkness where you can't even see your hands infront of your face.  I couldn't even find my phone or the light switch. The Farmhouse/Manor I'd woken up in had shutters outside the window - I had no idea before I went to sleep that they'd be that effective. 

Eventually I found the light switch.

I was the first down to breakfast. It was a massive room with a huge oval dining table and a fire place so big you could roast an elephant in it. It even had seats in the fireplace. I was being observed by two sword fighting squirrels. Taxidermy humor.

Croisants and bread and jams and cake… plenty to eat. So, I tucked in. Slowly but surely and one by one the rest of Akileos, Ted Neifeh included, joined me. More eating. More talking. Then off to the festival.

The day began proper. Now, they say at Angouleme that the busiest day is the Saturday. So its weird that this day was incredibly busy. Busier than Quais Des Bulles in St Malo (a festival I LOVE, btw and I'll be documenting the heck out of this October when I go). A lot of foot traffic coming our way. 

"Pre-nom silverplate" and people wrote down their names for me and then I drew them either a Cthulhu, a Holmes or a Watson or a Hound or anything they wanted. But never a dog holding a red balloon (even though I'm always tempted to do just that when invited to 'draw what you like').

The immediate impression you get of French readers is the broad demographic— what you'd expect from a country where sequential art is a part of the culture not a part of the subculture as it is at home. That's not to sound downhearted in the least bit about 'the scene' back home because things are great and getting better all the while… plus, its Britain. We have a knack of doing great things with subculture. We did it with Punk.

On to the afternoon and many more books are signed and drawn in and then the day draws to a close. I think that by the end of either the first or second day, Glyn had sold all his copies of Nao. A lot of people coming up and getting their copies signed by him, even bringing copies bought in English. 

In essence my diary entries become increasingly scant on detail as each day really becomes much like the last. We get up, we breakfast, we arrive at the festival, we sign books. We lunch, we sign, we drink, we dine. We sleep, we rise. Repeat.

A vicious yet delicious cycle…

(to be concluded)

THAT WAS THEN, THIS IS NAO (PART DEUX)

JANUARY 30
Woke early to the tiger after a night in Nao's bed. Got dressed. Got ready.  Met the rest of the lovely Dillon clan. Said hello. Said goodbye. Cab on time. St "Pancreas" bound.

Paul Gravett greeted us in the International departure lounge. He really is The Man at the Crossroads!! He was Angouleme bound via a different route and we parted ways.

We rendezvoused with our publisher, Emma Hayley. Quick coffee. Quick chat. And off again. After being dragged out of England and through a tunnel backwards and tangoing with the Paris metro (considerably cheaper than the London Underground and just as efficient! Grrrr!!!) we we're on the Angouleme train rattling through the French countryside.

We arrived in Angouleme to rain we didn't bring with us. Something Brits from an island of inclemency are often blamed for, but seriously, it was like that when we got there! And then it was goodbye Emma as she headed off to her hotel and hello to Mara, an Akileos auteur from Switzerland (speaks excellent English and puts us both to shame for our lack of even basic 'Allo 'Allo French).

Our French publisher, Emmanuel Bouteille (aka Manu or Mr Good-Bottle), picked us all up in his car and we headed for our booth in town.

The town was abuzz with the set up. Vans parked up on curbs with people carrying boxes into the convention centre, and inside, people sorting tables, setting up stands. It's not unreasonable to say that the whole of Angouleme is commandeered by this festival. When I say convention centre here I'm actually just talking about our marquee which houses all the main publishers… there are marquees dotted all over Angouleme with various things going on in them. It's huge and when you're signing at Angouleme you don't really get a chance to see it all because you're signing. All the time.

We waded through bubble wrap and empty cardboard boxes. We had arrived. We met with Richard Saint Martin (the other half of Akileos). We saw the tables we would call home for the next few days (an excellent spot, right opposite Dargaud) and then off to accommodation. Glyn stayed in town in a beautiful apartment I'd stayed in before and I was staying with my extended family, Akileos, in the countryside. We drove out to a beautiful farm/manor house. The room I got was gorgeous. I dumped my bags and we headed back into Angouleme for food and drink!

Later that night, Ted Naifeh (Courtney Crumrin) joined us for dinner. We ate. We drank. We talked. We had the entire plot of The Life of Pi spoiled for us, Glyn discovered that he quite likes Camembert, we discovered that Manu does not, and then we parted ways with Glyn and headed back to the manor house and to bed.

I closed my eyes and bid the long day goodnight.

No Tigers.

THAT WAS THEN, THIS IS NAO (PART I)

Okay, it has been awhile since I updated this blog. It has been a very busy year. Hot off the back of last year which was insanely busy too. Plus, I lost a month due to surgery back in March which went horribly wrong but that's another story for another time and really less important than the fact that I'm alright now! No amount of time in hospital is great when you're freelance. So, I've been playing catch up and working hard.

Now I'm sort of back on top of things I'm determined to update this blog more regularly. I have a new book out, The Shadow Out of Time, and I'm currently drawing the second twelve part series of Brass Sun (due out in 2000AD this Autumn) and I've just written my first original graphic novel, Celeste. Celeste is not an adaptation and not remotely Lovecraftian. It is going to be nearly 200 pages long and full colour and there will be more about this over the coming months as I'm working on it right now and it will be out next spring in the UK and the US simultaneously from SelfMadeHero.  And to top it all, Dan Abnett and I are also set to start working again quite soon on a new collaboration.

In short, exciting times! Much to do and much to write about the doing there of.

For now, let me begin with a story that goes right back to the beginning of the year, back to January 29th.   Glyn Dillon (writer and artist of The Nao of Brown) and I travelled to France together for the Angouleme 40th year festival (where the French edition of Nao was in the running for the Jury prize) at the invitation of our French publishers, Akileos.  I kept a sort of incomplete journal of our adventures, so, here it is, this is just the first part of four which I will post over the next few days…

Cue swirly flashback graphics and harp.

JANUARY 29th.
Set off late. Wanted to say goodnight to my bairns before I hit the road. My youngest said 'see you in the morning' almost breaking my heart before I'd even set a foot out the door. 

Arrived in Mother London, tired, nauseous for eating carbs on the train, and outraged at the price of an underground ticket! I caught a train to Glyn's house, but at that price I was expecting a piggy back at the very least.

He opened the door barefoot and dressing gowned and I realised I was considerably later than I'd anticipated. The rest of the house was abed so I trod as quietly as any six foot four galah could. He made me tea and asked if I recognise the room I was standing in. Took a moment for me to realise… it was Nao's kitchen and living room.  I was in Nao's house. A surreal moment as fact and fiction collided. When I read the book, Nao became a sort of tulpa, she became real, and here I a was, one half sitting in Glyn's house, one half sitting in Nao's.

I was to sleep in Nao's room, the actual room at the actual house in the actual bed. The bed was Nao sized. My feet stuck out at the end.

I wrote my Angouleme diary long hand in the absence of a smart phone and in the light of a lamp I christened 'the moon' even though it wasn't even moon shaped. The off switch was guarded by a tiger.

So many books. So many wonderful things. But I had to sleep. Cab booked for seven am.

Tiger be damned…

THE NEW DEADWARDIANS - GOSH! EXCLUSIVE BOOKPLATE EDITION!

This is the bookplate I produced for Gosh! They have 200 bookplate editions of The New Deadwardians tpb (out tomorrow) signed by both Abnett and me. Their site has details about how you can get a copy of the bookplate edition:

"If you’d like one reserved or if you’d like to arrange a mail order send us an email to info@goshlondon.com and we’ll sort it out for you. Postage is a flat-rate of £5 within the UK, £5.50 to Europe, £7.80 to the USA and Canada, and £8 to Australia and NZ (if you’re elsewhere let me know and I’ll get a quote for you)."

They may take a couple more days to be ready, I only just posted them back to Gosh! today. They arrived at my house when I was in France attending Angouleme which I kept a diary account of and am currently writing up so expect that over the next day or so.

THE SHADOW OUT OF TIME

Oh my dear long neglected blog… I've been busy. Deadbeats hit shelves Nov last year - debuting at Thought Bubble where we sold out of every copy we brought with us and hot on the heels of that comes The Shadow Out of Time which is out this May from SelfMadeHero.  Here's the cover. Sneak peeks to follow over the coming weeks.  I shall endeavor to update this dear old blog more often.