Nottingham Comic Con 2014

After three years of design and a year of writing, Daz and I finally decided to share our project with the outside world.

To do so, we decided to exhibit it at Nottingham Comic Con!

ncc

On Friday night, with a car packed with piles of prints, two lovingly printed books and skate decks aplenty, Daz picked me up for the ride to Nottingham.

There was only one problem. Me: I was dying.

Or so I felt. My stomach felt like somebody was corkscrewing a…well, corkscrew through it. A trip to the hospital resulted in nothing more than the grave words: “Take some cocodamol and come back in six hours if this gets worse.”

Needless to say, I wasn’t exactly fit for a 3-hour drive to Nottingham. Instead, Vikki and I stayed with my parents and Daz had to drive up on his own: his Comic Con Rock Mix Compilation CD falling on just one set of ears, not three.

Luckily, it didn’t get worse. In fact, it got better! At first I thought it was just the hardcore painkillers, then I realised that – in my haze – I had accidentally missed the cocodamol and, instead, eaten two Rennies.

The eventual conclusion was that it was some kind of gut-twist. In any case, come the morning, Vikki and I piled into our new car (the odometer showing 1500 miles in 3 weeks) and soared up the country.

Eventually, a little late, we survived. So began a full day of takin’ names and sellin’ prints, meetin’ fine people and drinkin’ bad coffee.

All in all, the feedback was awesome! People love Daz’s illustrations, as I knew they would, and the overall reaction to our stuff was really positive.

I had always imagined manning an exhibit table to be draining – and I was right. By the end of the day, I never wanted to say or hear the words “Welcome to the Happy Ghetto” ever again. That feeling soon passed.

SO, my friends, welcome to the Happy Ghetto! Our strange little world. Keep your eyes peeled.

About the Author
Ed Gamester is a silly man who lives in the United Kingdom. He is the harbinger of Ghost Squad, singer of Gay Bum and author of A Rum Run Awry. He fights, kills and dies for TV and films, and gallivants around the place wrestling, drinking and lifting things for glory and profit. Where Ed treads, there stamp the boots of the Guild. Ed does not wear glasses, but feels this photograph makes him look more intelligent and artistically talented than he is. Feel free to contact him: he is disappointingly affable.

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