My chums Sarah, Gary and Viviane share a studio in an old police station building in Deptford. They've all made comics about sheep, so they called their studio the Fleece Station. Reading stuff on Sarah's blog about settling in there was pretty interesting, but on Saturday they had a studio-warming party, which gave me an opportunity to go and see what it's like for myself.

My first impression was surprise that it — and the new Deptford Police Station right next door — are so far away from the main road, way down a not very populous and very poorly lit road that's a bit grim and scary (It's no surprise that poor Gary got mugged there the other week). It made me wonder how much goes unreported just because no one wants to trek down the dark scary street just to get there. I know it would put me off.

The Old Police Station is currently filled with creative types — illustrators, animators and the like — but had a bit of a bad reputation when it was in use, with stories of police thuggery and the like, but although many of the original features are still there (including the cells and even some unclaimed paper files), with the walls covered in vintage photos and fairy-lights, it didn't feel too bad. The woman who runs the cafe is also curating the Deptford Museum with the help of locals, and it's mostly their pictures that adorn the walls.

The cells are pretty much as they were left, and are pretty grim, with tiled walls, tiny windows and adverts for Crimestoppers on the ceiling. Although they are grim, the fact that they are still there means that people can't forget the building's original purpose, which I think is important not to brush away in a nice little wave of gentrification, although it did seem a bit weird to see people standing around them with booze. Ironic, too, since I expect most of the people incarcerated in there were probably dumped in there to sleep off a drunk. [see more pics here]

The Fleece Station studio itself is upstairs, and very pleasant indeed. I wanted to stay in there for ages just to look at all the pretty pictures and browse all the gorgeous books.

I consoled myself with an adorable sheepish cupcake and promptly bored/astounded everyone I could by blathering on about my Interesting day, to discover that it's very hard to tell people about a man shooting ball-bearings at his head or making his own yoghurt live on stage without sounding completely bonkers yourself. But I'm starting to think that some of the stuff at Interesting could be combined into a super-award-winning show at the Edinburgh Fringe.

And then I banged Rian Hughes up in a cell. Because I could.

But we let him keep his gin and his cupcake.

There was a birthday cake to celebrate, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

First there was Friday night's gathering in The Angel & Greyhound, where Alex oxfordslacker and I bonded over a mutual love of — of all things — The Andrews Sisters¹. Alex also came up with a description of prog-rock which worked as a perfect analogy of why I hate HDR photography, but unfortunately I can't remember what it was now. Something about technically-adept musicians playing everything perfectly, all at the same time, just because they can, but it having absolutely no soul or character — which is what I feel about most prog-rock and indeed about most HDR photos I've seen. (YMMV.)

I spent most of Saturday in a state of hangover daze, which was really unfair because I'd only had two pints on Friday night — and I stopped drinking before 9:00pm. After popping into the town centre to get a new memory card and a bacon sammich from Browns in the covered market (right opposite the cake shop where the Caption birthday cake and Jeremy's Tatlin Tower wedding cake came from), I made it back to Caption in time for Kaz's talk about her current residency at the Victoria & Albert Museum. Having already been to visit her in her studio, some of it was stuff I already knew (in fact, photos with me in even appeared in some of her slides), but it was interesting to hear about the process of applying for the post, and how it's working out so far. Choice quote: "I had to be polite and pretend that I was a legitimate person."

I also enjoyed Garen Ewing's talk about his journey from 1980s zines to being published by Egmont this year. I've been a fan of his book The Rainbow Orchid since I first picked up his original self-published black-and-white version some years ago, and it was particularly fascinating to see how the work has evolved into the new book which has just come out. For me, the best part was seeing his preliminary sketches and pencils (in fact, I almost prefer the pre-inked pencils to the final result), but it was interesting to compare the original character sketches with the way those characters ended up. It was also interesting to see how some of the panels in the original version have been redrawn for the new book — to much improvement, both compositionally and historically (since it's set in the 1920s, it's important to get the period detail right). And the cover for book two is absolutely gorgeous — you're really in a for a treat.

elephant sketches by Garen Ewing

Another thing to look forward to is not one, but two new comics from Terry Wiley, both of which he let me have a sneak preview of, and I can't wait to get my grubby mitts on my own copies. There's a final part of Petra Etcetera, and a whole new story focusing on Verity Bourneville's acting career (or lack of), which is great 'cos I always loved Very as a comic character. (You can even read that one online) Terry also mentioned that he wants to get on with writing part two of Surreal School Stories at some point, so that's even more to look forward to!

Saturday evening was lots of fun, as Captionites descended en masse to new Chinese restaurant, Lan Kwai Fong. (Apparently it's named after a neighbourhood of Hong Kong, so it's a bit like calling your restaurant Cowley Road, which is where it is.) They have an extensive menu of stupidly-named cocktails, most of which I avoided, instead opting for a rather more sophisticated Singapore Sling. Unfortunately, I felt a lot less sophisticated drinking it when my charming dining companion, Paul Fryer had a taste and compared it to "drinking a Wham bar" because it was actually an accurate description. Oh well, posh alcopops will do the trick too! They also have a decent menu of dim sum options, which Paul got all excited about because it meant he got to eat tentacles for the first time¹. I love calamari, so it was fine with me, but he baulked at trying the tempura frogs' legs, which I've never eaten either. The folk at the next table were only too willing to get stuck in, though!

We made it back to the bar (which, due to unfortunate timing on the licence, was a dry one, which seems very wrong for a comics event, but people managed), in time for Tony Hitchman's annual comics quiz, which is always good fun — this year's was about Rampaging Robots. There are prizes for correct answers, but I always think it's much more fun when people try and come up with the silliest and most unlikely answers, instead. Mostly, it's just a great excuse to look at his slides of awesome vintage comic art from the Golden and Silver Ages of comics, and to hear the snarky asides from other people in the bar.

"Is his crotch a giant speaker?" asked Daniel Merlin Goodbrey

Sunday was pretty relaxed; the only thing I had planned was Sarah McIntyre's talk about the many similarities between comics and picture books, and her experience in both fields. It was really interesting, showcasing some amazing and wonderful children's books, many of which I'd never seen or even heard of before. Hopefully Sarah will put the slides online (Slideshare?) — or at least list the books on her blog — as almost all of them had some visual design appeal beyond just being "books for kids" (although I think regular readers are aware by now that I love kids books anyway). She also had a lot of useful suggestions about getting your work published, which is an area I think lots of small-press publishers could actually be pretty successful in, if the book examples she showed are anything to go by. She also talked about how many books are almost half the size of the children reading them, so when they open them, "it's like they're wrapping a whole world around themselves." She talked of wanting to do this for adults, which reminded me of the Alan Aldridge retrospective at the Design Museum, which had enormous versions of some of his illustrations for you to walk amongst. (I totally blanked on the name of the artist during Sarah's talk; only remembering it on the coach home, listening to Scott Walker!)

Although there seemed to be a few less people this year, it was still a great excuse to catch up with old faces like Gav Burrows and Ali Pulling, as well as meet lovely new people like Neill Cameron and Jason Elvis Barker. Least expected was seeing Jason Little, who was a long way from his native Brooklyn, but had arrived with erstwhile New Yorker Ellen Lindner. His Shutterbug Follies was one of the first webcomics I remember reading, way back in the day, but I felt like too much of a dork to go and say hello, because it's been years since I did actually read it. Of course, it's been collected in a book now, but unfortunately he didn't have any on sale — although I can understand why he wouldn't want to lug anything around.

I didn't pick up many comics this year. Partly it's because I'm watching my budget, and partly because I've been reading a few series and I couldn't remember which of the previous issues I already have. There didn't seem to be a lot worth picking up on spec (making me regret even more not making it to APF a couple of weeks ago, as those events usually have some amazing stuff on sale) or, at least, none of the cheaper stuff really caught my eye.

I did get a signed copy of the new edition of The Rainbow Orchid, which looks great in colour and has a gorgeously-printed cover; and I finally got around to buying Urban Beasts. I usually avoid anthropomorphic/"funny animal" comics but Urban Beasts plays around with anthropomorphism in an interesting way — and I'm not just saying that because it's by my friends! Now, where's issue #2?

I was also pleased to find a Jenny Everywhere comic, not just because it only cost 50p, but because I was there at her inception way back in the day², and I think she's a seriously underused character, so well done Nigel Palmer, whoever he is (there's no contact information). The final thing I bought was an untitled minicomic about a man in a hot air balloon, which was absolutely delightful. There are shades of Mr Benn, but it's no less charming for all that. It's by someone called Jack Brougham. And I would have picked up Paul Fryer's Ghostly Goings-On even if we hadn't been going off to dinner together, because the simple cover design appealed to me. I really enjoyed it, too; the first story, A Ghost For Tom Bailey, is really sweet and funny, and the second one, The Spirit of Winter, has a lovely denouement.

I do have to gripe about the Caption souvenir programme, though, as it was very disappointing. It was full of pin-ups and not many actual strips, and none of the artists' names were actually listed on the same page as their own work. Some people did sign their work, but many didn't, and as there was no contact/website information in the zine (huge oversight, people!), it makes it pretty hard to track them down to see more of their work. There was a list of names that referred to page numbers, but that was incredibly aggravating, as none of the pages actually had any numbers printed on them! So here's a tip: if you're contributing to any kind of anthology, make sure people know who the work is by. That means signing it and providing contact details on the work itself. That way it's much easier for people to find you! Simple.

Other highlights from the weekend before I sign off:

Ice-cream at George & Delila. For me, this has become a Caption tradition (they're just down the road; it would be rude not to!) This year I tried the green-tea ice-cream and the passion-fruit sorbet. Both were nice, although the portions were ginormous, and the green-tea made me feel a bit sick after a while. I highly recommend the passion-fruit sorbet, though; it's very refreshing.

The panel between Mark Stafford and Jamie McKelvie. They talked about different processes they use when collaborating with other people (mostly Bryan Talbot and Kieron Gillen, respectively — or disrespectively in Gillen's case, snark snark), which was quite interesting, and about the new Longbox initiative which is probably going to change the comics market for good (and I mean that in both the sense of positive and the definitive).

Drinking cocktails in a cabana. A damn fine way to end any weekend.

¹In honour both of my bonding with Alex over the Andrews Sisters, and of the first time Paul ate squid, I give you this mp3 of the Andrews Sisters singing Hold Tight, Hold Tight (Want Some Seafood Mama). Don't get icky with the one, two, three!

²Of course, seeing a Jenny Everywhere comic always raises the question again — whatever did happen to Steven Wintle (the guy who originally invented her)? Well, wonder no more, because I've found him! He's blogging with his brother Gary (who I seem to remember that I once agreed to marry once he got older) over at I Was Ben. Yay!

MORE REVIEWS OF CAPTION 2009 HERE:
Rich Johnston: "It’s a unique convention in that the comic book creators who attend far outnumber the non-comic book creators. And to be fair, even they have a dabble. That’s part of what Caption is about, a democratisation of the form, the realisation that everyone can create comic books and find their own inspiration."
Gavin Burrows: "One panel was titled ‘You Should Totally Run Your Own Con, Dude’. But that’s pretty much what happens here anyway. Like the kids from Fame, the attendees put on a show right here. Caption is a magnet and a playpen for people as mad as you. Then times by nineteen."
Neill Cameron (with ace sketches of attendees as pirates with dinosaurs.)
Garen Ewing: "so many creators compare themselves unfavourably with their colleagues, forgetting that no one will ever do what they do in the unique way they do it"
Sarah McIntyre: "I ate something called Wild Ants Climbing Trees Glass Noodles, which disappointingly turned out to be something better named Slimy Noodles with Little Quorn-like Bits Stuck to Them."
Jenni Scott has posted her review in pieces, you can see them all here:"the first part of the day, as usual with CAPTION, was pretty well stuffed with creativity structured and unstructured."

April 24th-26th: Alex Milway's Crystal Palace Children's Book Festival, with loads of people from the Super Comics Adventure Squad (formerly of the DFC) and some fun-looking workshops.

May 3rd: the London Zine Symposium. I remember seeing loads of lovely handmade books and things there last year, so I'm sure this year's will be good too.

May 9th: Bristol Small Press Expo. I haven't decided if I'm going to Bristol this year, but if I do, I'll be sure to check this out alongside the main event.

May 9th-10th: Bristol Comics Expo.

May 23rd-24th: Comics Village at the MCM Expo. This is reason enough not to worry too much about missing Bristol, as most of the faces will no doubt be here, too.

June 27th: LUC@176. Best thing about this is that it's ROUND THE CORNER FROM MY HOUSE. Yes.

August 15th-16th: Caption. This year's theme is Away With The Fairies, apparently, and I hear rumours of a panel populated by DFC creators. Caption's always one of my year's highlight's, but nothing is going to top last year, when I spent the evening hanging out with one of my all-time favourite design heroes stuffing our faces on delicious Brazilian barbecue in a restaurant designed like a 1970s supervillain's lair (all orange and black moulded plastic), then sat sinking into the squashiest sofa in history while he sang my favourite Scott Walker and Glenn Campbell songs to me. Beat that, Team Comics.

I didn't make it to the model trains at the Peoples' Palace, but I did make it to mini comics at, er, the Peoples' Palace. How many Peoples' Palaces are there in London anyway?

Anyway, nomenclature aside, it was a good event, by all accounts. I deliberately arrived late, as past events have seen me run out of money and have hours to hang around doing nothing until everyone packs up to go to the pub. On arrival, I (typically) got distracted from looking at the tables by catching up with friends, including running into some stray Lithers, which was a pleasant surprise. I didn't seem to come away with huge amounts of comics, but I still spent about £30 (including a couple of things that didn't end up in the photograph at the top of the post). I'm not sure how good everyone's sales were, but the event was pretty crowded right up until closing time, which seemed like a good sign.

I must be getting O-L-D though, because I left the pub early, which is something I've been doing a lot of late. Me, who always stays until closing time. Not anymore, it seems. I'm not sure if it's a good thing, or not, as I never seem to get to bed any earlier than if I'd stayed out all night… Instead, I found myself getting a few strange looks on the tube, because reading through my haul of mini comics was making me giggle. Comics that are actually comical, who'da thunk it? Although I was a little disturbed that two comics out of the ten featured villains made of sentient facial hair! (That would be Airship by Sarah McIntyre & David O'Connell, and Francesca Cassavetti's Striptacular Comics Revue.)

There are a few things I regret, though. There were a couple of times when I got distracted by friends just as I was considering a purchase and then never went back to buy, which I feel a bit bad about. And I wish I'd thought to take a photo of Ellen Lindner's glamorous outfit (apparently it was her second choice and she wasn't sure about it, but let's be honest; she always looks great). I did, however, manage to grab the last copy of her brand new collected edition of Undertow, which I've been awaiting the conclusion of since I read the first chapter in her self-published comic Blonde on Blonde in, ooh, 2003 or 2004. Undertow was updated regularly on Webcomics Nation, but it was one I much preferred to read in paper format, so I'm delighted to now have a copy of my own. You should go and buy yours, too, although in my opinion, nothing beats the drama and linework of the last two pages of the opening chapter. Which is not to say that the rest ain't good, 'cos it is!

Also recommended:

• Chloe Noonan – new thing from Marc Ellerby, which is sardonically fun, though I'd love to see the whole thing done in colour. I know, I know, too expensive, but the colours on the front cover are so pretty. Watch Marc's LJ for details on how to get yours.
• Mugwump The Great – pocket-sized lunacy from Roger Langridge; ace as always.
• A Nice Cup of Tea and a Deadline – fans of Sarah McIntyre's blog will already know about this, a collection of some of the cute and funny illustrations and comic strips Sarah posts daily (with a lovely titular headnod to A Nice Cup of Tea and a Sit Down), but you should buy a copy because the selected strips sit really nicely together. Except, I don't know how you can get one 'cos Sarah doesn't have a shop on her site¹. But, you can read her report on the Thing.
• The Everyday – simple, autobiographical strips by Adam Cadwell, with nice low-key observations about the small pleasures in life, illustrated with a lovely, elegant line. I didn't actually buy a copy 'cos of low funds, but I made Fimb buy one, and now I'm pointing you lot in Adam's direction, too.
• Whores of Mensa – I bought the latest issue last year, but now's your chance to buy up all the copies under this particular title, as Ellen informed me that they've just received a Cease-and-Desist from Mensa so they'll have to change the title, and may have to destroy existing issues.
• Tequila Monkey – not comics, but these handmade sugar skull brooches were doing a roaring trade, hardly surprising, as they're cute and affordable (although I'm considering commandeering mine for use as a pin-cushion, is that wrong? It's just that it's perfect!)

¹psst, Sarah, Folksy is a good place to set up an online shop!

In the nearby New Globe pub, those rebel reprobates from LUC are having their own breakaway event, SchmurgenCon. Looks like there'll be some good stuff on show, but am I the only one who thinks that the Schmurgen thing seems like an in-joke that's already past its sell-by date? Or maybe I'm just pissing on someone's chips. Nonetheless, it's still worth checking out if you're going to be in the area for the Thing, although I expect the LUC bunch will end up in the same pub as the people from the Thing later in the evening, and will probably be willing to sell you something then if you ask nicely. The pub in question being the big Wetherspoon's pub on Mile End Road between Stepney Green and Mile End tube stations, I forget the name of it but it's not an especially nice pub. The only thing it has going for it is that it's cheap and has a wider selection than most, which is why we always end up there post-Thing. Unfortunately there's not a whole lot of choice in Mile End, I guess.

In case you hadn't noticed, here at Mondo Towers WE LOVE MODEL TRAINS. So I was quite excited to find out (via @genmon) about the London Festival of Railway Modelling [warning, has audio], which takes place over the weekend. I've been meaning to go up to Alexandra Park all year, and this is a good reason to do so, but I'm not sure I can fit it in on Saturday if I'm already going to the Thing. Maybe if I get up early, and pray that London Transport is not completely broken.

The model trains event continues on Sunday, but I've already made a date with a friend to see a Russian film from 1926 at the Phoenix Cinema, one of those London institutions that I've never yet made it to, so I'm looking forward to it.

Also on Sunday, Wilton's Music Hall is having an Open Day. I visited during the Open House weekend last year (some photos here), and it's a truly fantastic, unique space. Well worth the trip to Shadwell, especially as it's free. Plus there are a couple of great pubs to visit in nearby Wapping.

Oh, and in case the title of this post didn't remind you, don't forget the clocks go forward on Sunday morning!

Also on the comics front: the latest Scott Pilgrim book is out this week. Awesome sauce.

I didn't go to any of the talks, and ran into less people than I expected to, but I did bump into Sarah (her review of the event is here) and the lovely Mr Sheret of the Polaroid Press, as well as a couple of other familiar faces that I knew to say hello to, and was entertained by the mini-exhibition of zines and comics, not least because I discovered some new names amidst the usual faces, and blasts from the past.

I picked up a few good zines and comics, too, mostly of the cheaply printed/photocopied variety because they cost less! I haven't read them all, but so far think my favourite is This Was Before You Were Born, a little booklet of stories by Katie Haegele of The La-La Theory, which cost me the princely sum of 50p. They're all tales she's inherited from her family, which I found totally charming especially the story of her uncle Charlie who loved Christmas morning so much as a little boy that the whole family celebrated Christmas every morning morning until Epiphany, which involved wrapping all the presents up after they'd unwrapped them just so that they could unwrap them again the next morning! That's kind of crazy behaviour, but it's sweet rather than dangerous, just how I like my crazies.

Small press stalwart (and Space Station 65 partner) Rachael House made a good list of tips for making zines:

You can see all of them in the photoset on Flickr. (Tip #4 especially amused me, after all the computer vs. paper conversations I've been having/following lately.)

Zine Fest organiser Melanie Maddison also puts together a zine called Colouring Outside The Lines. I picked up the latest issue, #4, which is a great catalogue of female illustrators from around the globe, complete with spot pictures, website information and interviews. I haven't had a proper read yet, but it looks pretty inspiring. You can buy it via Folksy or via Etsy. It's well worth a look, and I suspect I'll be linking to some of the talented ladies I find in it when I finally get a moment to give it a proper read!

So far 2009 is shaping up to be a good one for zine and comics events. I picked up a couple of flyers for some more events coming up:

First up is this Sunday's Alternative Press Fair, back at St. Aloysius Social Club (a place I seem to be visiting often enough for it to deserve its own tag on my site). There's a good interview, full of self-pubishing tips from the guys behind the APF over at Spoonfed (which is a site I signed up to a few weeks ago but haven't really used yet, so I can't tell you how useful it is).

Brighton Zine fest is a two-day event on 21st-22nd of February. I'm hoping to get down for one of the days.

The London Zine Symposium returns on May 3rd. There was a lot of great stuff on sale last year, plus it's right next to one of my favourite pubs!

Via Dave Shelton comes news of a an event on the 14th-15th of February that's probably a bit more mainstream, but worth checking out if you're in the area, the Highland Expo in Inverness. I'm almost tempted to go myself. I like Inverness.

photo by Adactio [cc licensed]

That looks and sounds a bit pretentious and incomprehensible, perhaps, but is easily broken down:

craft = the skills in creating things, be they books or blog posts
bioinformatic = us and our branes
origami = complexity and more skill
unicorns = a bit of the fairytale

I think these are actually easy notions to get to grips with, despite the unwieldy nature of the phrase. It was a fun(ny) line to sum up and end the day with, anyway.

After the summations, we all tripped off to the pub where Penguin generously plied us with booze, and I had a better opportunity to get my box of mini-comics out for people to have a look at. It was nice; people wandered over our table and had a delve, getting excited about paper texture or ink, and even getting nostalgic in some cases.

It was funny, too, as I discovered that some of the people at BookCamp were friends with, or familiar with, some of the small press comics people I know. Ben Read and I not only bonded over a mutual love of Scary-Go-Round, but it turns out that he's mates with Matt Brooker and has "always wanted to go to Caption!

In the afternoon BookCamp sessions I went to, I sat next to Alex Milway, who writes and illustrates children's books (unfortunately, I missed the session he ran, which sounded pretty good). He's friends with Sarah McIntyre (who's just posted this great mini-comic on the pleasures of paper and pens), and acquainted with some other folk from the DFC like Gary Northfield and Woodrow Phoenix, so we had a good natter about them, amongst other things. Looking through my box of mini-comics, he suddenly started talking about the Lady Cottington Pressed Faerie Book that by sheer coincidence of timing I'd been given the day before! (I haven't even had time to read it yet.)

It's always so nice when my interests converge like that, and it served as a reminder for me of something that I wanted to mention before I finished writing all of this up, which is that there are loads of comicsy people doing interesting things using POD technology, papercraft, collaborative stories, and even social media, and I reckon they need to be getting involved with events like these, or at least considering the unconference/barcamp approach for their own events. If, as the Really Interesting Group say in their editorial of Things Our Friends Have Written On The Internet, "2009 feels like a year for printing and making real stuff in the real world," it would be superduper brilliant to see more convergence and crossover, don't you think? Let's make it happen.

In the same way that it was cool to be told people liked my hand-made mini-cards, it was fun to rock up to the big table at PaperCamp and pull out my shoebox of printed stuff, instead of pulling out a laptop like everyone else. It felt a bit like a magic box of tricks at times, when I could reach into it and get my hands on the perfect thing to demonstrate what someone was talking about. This happened during Aaron Straup Cope's's keynote presentation on the papernet and alternative mapping, when he was trying to describe a particular way of folding a piece of A4 paper into a booklet. It was neat to be able to dig out my copy of Chris Stonehill's recent mini, Choosing How To Enter The Sea, which is folded this particular way, and pass it around the table so that people could see what Aaron was talking about. (Likewise, during Alex Deschamps-Sonsino's Thinking Through Paper session later in the morning, it proved rather useful that I had thought to pack the scissors and glue.)

Aaron had some really interesting things to say during his presentation. His papernet idea reminded me of Jon Burgerman's lo-fi biroweb (even though they are different), but it was his comments on wanting books in serialised pieces for easy transportation that really caught my attention. Having ripped a 400-page book in half so that he could fit it in a small pack on a three-day mountain hike in a remote part of Hawaii, Aaron thought this could be a useful business model for getting people to read big, unwieldy books. It's not exactly an original idea, when you remember that early novels were serialised in portable formats, but it's an interesting one in today's publishing climate. It makes a lot of sense to me just on a practical level — especially with huge weighty tomes like Neil Stephenson's novels, for example — but seems to be the exact opposite of what is happening with most fiction that was traditionally serialised; for example, the way that comics readers, and some comics producers, are moving away from the episodic nature of single issues (or "floppies") in favour of collected editions.

Aaron's points on alternative mapping were very interesting, too. As he says, no one wants to be the tourist "standing out like a dick" holding a map on a giant piece of paper. Small, manageable pocket maps are the way to go — this was where the folded sheet of A4 paper came in, creating something small and light enough to fit in a pocket but with all the useful information on it. Another method is "pirate routing" (i.e. copying the layout of street names into a simple diagram; Chris Heathcote referred to this as "pirate mapping" in his presentation later in the day). This is something I do all the time because it often makes more sense than taking the whole A-Z, and it makes a neat little record of new places I have visited. I never used to keep these pirate maps once I'd used them, but I think it might be interesting to do so now. As Aaron said in his summing up, "artefacts are the soft porn of memory." Rather a crude and funny way of putting it, but true nonetheless.

Having got myself a place, I had a think about what I was going to take with me. Rather than bringing along a book as suggested, I delved into my shoeboxes of mini-comics and old zines, and dug out some good examples of things people have made and printed independently, to show off what paper and books can be like outside of standardised formats. It took me a while to whittle down my selection, but eventually I managed to have an interesting array of stuff to take on Saturday; everything from old Slab-O-Concrete missive devices to Jeremy Dennis' teeny Tiny Tea Comic and jewel-encrusted Owl Is Angry; even a couple of issues of Chris Ware's Acme Novelty Library with embossed covers and clip-out coupons. I also put a pair of scissors and a Pritt Stick in the box, figuring that there would probably be some hands-on cut-and-paste taking place.

a selection of some of the things I took with me

I also remembered that it's always a good idea to take contact-info cards to these things, but in a nod to PaperCamp's hands-on tactile approach, and the satisfaction of getting my hands dirty that I mentioned in my last post, I decided to make a special lo-fi PaperCamp edition. I spent a satisfying half hour chilling out with some music and getting into a creative flow-state, dividing a sheet of card into a grid, writing down contact details with an HB pencil and prettifying one side with a brick wall image, made from a piece of dolls' house paper glued down to the sheet of card before I cut it into separate mini-cards. (Dolls' house paper is neat. I buy it from the art dept at Paperchase and use it to write letters on and stuff.) Initially I was going to make the cards all different, using stickers and things cut out of a magazine, but I liked the solidity of the brick wall image; the way that a wall can be a support structure or a blank canvas seemed to mirror the way that paper can be a support structure or a blank canvas. Plus, I really do think brick walls are pretty. (So does Michael Sporn) Everyone I gave a card to on Saturday said it was a cool idea, too, so I'm inspired to think about what kind of mini-cards I could make for similar events, like the Zine Fest at the Women's Library next Saturday, for example.

Funnily enough, I came home on Friday night to discover a copy of Lady Cottington's Pressed Fairy Book from my mum. It's a good example of the book-as-fetish-object, complete with padded cover and a section of it sealed with brown paper, so the timing of the delivery was rather apposite!

Anyway, I took a bunch of notes at Saturday's event(s), and in my usual way will be posting separate articles on the sessions I went to at both BookCamp and PaperCamp. It will be a lot of stuff to read, because I wanted to get it all online in time for some of the content to be considered for addition to the book that Jeremy Ettinghausen is compiling on Monday night (to be available for POD on Tuesday — ambitious, or what). Also, I find writing it all up in detail a useful way to get my thoughts clear and process all the information and ideas after an event. Hopefully it'll be interesting for other people, too.