The 'graphic novelists' at the writers festival launch party. Nobody here knows who we are. And I'm standing talking to young Leigh Rigozzi, planning our assault upon the literary world. A pretty young lady arrives, walks across the room through the throng straight to Leigh and asks if he would sign her autograph book. "How come Leigh is recognised when he's only been in town a few hours, while I who have been here twenty years am invisivble?" I ask, rudely self-important. And the pretty young lady says "I'm the one who picked him up from the airport."
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update: Guy Delisle can't make it alas. More room for Campbell's head, as one of my pals said.