My Fifteen Minutes of Fame - Trombone Man Grabs Guardian Spotlight. By Adam Reeves

Nic Watts, a UK graphic novel illustrator previously unknown to me, reached out to congratulate me for Trombone Man being given a feature in the Guardian in June '24 . He sent me a link to a Guardian feature about his own work, accompanied by the sobering words: "Getting into the Guardian is no mean feat - I suspect I have had my moment there." He may have a point. With an estimated monthly global readership of 18.4 million, there may be no bigger platform for an obscure, small-press, rookie indie comics creator like me to get their work seen by the world. In the first two weeks after its publication in late June 2024, the 2000 word Guardian piece was read by 85,000 people, which, to put in perspective, is 5,000 less than the capacity of Wembley Stadium. That's a staggering amount of eyeballs (about 170,000 eyeballs, do the math) giving their attention to something that had, up to now, mostly been on the radar to die-hard followers of ska and reggae music and a few other interested parties.

With its ongoing supportive coverage of graphic novels, there are publicisits literally kicking down the doors of the Guardian, week-in, week-out, desperate to get that make-or-break review. Only a tiny fraction of graphic novels are given page space and, according to an analysis on comics blog, Down the Tubes, of the Guardian's history of covering graphic novels, it seems it perpetrates a dubious practice of only covering works published by the four main UK graphic novel publishers. With only rare exception, it never gives space to small-press indies. So, how does one pull off such a spectacular stunt? If there were tips to be shared, I'd be sharing them, but in all honestly it was a random fluke.

It can leave you wondering, when blessings come your way, just who or what is pulling the strings in the unfolding drama of one's life. Synchronistic events seem to happen when we are out of our comfort zones, in situations such as traveling abroad, or when we are fully engaged in do-or-die ventures like getting a project/business off the ground. A quote misleadlingly attributted to Goethe says:

"...at the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which noone could have dreamed would have come their way.

Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now."

Certainly, that has been my experience. Synchronicity comes crashing into our lives like a train. Always when we least expect it, it can never be contrived. It snaps us out of our humdrum reality, reminding us that perhaps, just perhaps, there might be forces conspiring to elevate our lowly, miserable existance into something wondrous.

As for the full length Guardian feature dropping into my lap, it was the result of looking after somebody's dog, via a website called Trusted Housesitters, of which me and my partner Peta have been members since 2010. During a video interview for a potential future pet sit, for an aging and disabled hound named Django, we discovered that the homeowner, Rick Williams was a comissioning features editor at the Guardian (I can divulge his name, because he wrote the article!). It didn't occur to me to say anything, but Peta piped up, 'oh you might be interested in what Adam's doing with his comic book project.' I inwardly cringed, thinking she was being too forward and potentially putting him in an awkward position. It turned out Rick used to play melodica in a reggae band (melodica being the hand-held, breath-powered, baby keyboard, lifted from children's toy status to channeller of ethereal, dubwise vibrations. by the great Augustus Pablo). To our amazement Rick said he'd like to give it some coverage. As someone who leads a team of writers, he actually hadn't written a feature article himself for several years. We came off that call with a massive rush of excitement about what had just transpired.

Rick turned up at my book launch night at the Rose Hlll in Brighton and seemed keener than ever to do the piece. For the 8 weeks or so leading up to publication, it seemed like a fantasy. It didn't feel real. But it obviously seemed real enough to my cousin Darion, who decded that I needed a new website and online store in time, and set about building it, which made me take it seriously.

The interview took place around Rick's kitchen table and it couldn't have been a more relaxed encounter. For a start, I'd just lived in that kitchen for over two weeks while Rick and his wife went on holiday, so it felt like a familiar, comfortable space.

The article was published on the Friday of Glastonbury weekend, the last weekend in June. It was supposed to have gone out on the Wedensday, but twice it got shunted forwarded by a day. The sense of anticipation over those 48 hours was almost unbearable! Glastonbury is without a doubt the biggest time for music in the Guardian's calender, which may well have been a factor in 50,000 people having read it by Monday morning.

'He Was Greater Than Bob Marley'

Rick told me about his headline a couple days before publication and I was initially shocked by the clickbait-ish nature of it. He Was Greater than Bob Marley was a slight misquote by Drummond biographer, Heather Augustyn. I had mixed feelings about it. I knew it would rile up a few die-hard reggae heads who feel protective towards the Marley legacy. It seemed a banal statement to me, but clearly one that would grab attention. I decided to just roll with it and not let other's reactions to it bother me. But I must admit, I had my concerns.

As for my quote in which I said that ska paved the way for rave music, it also seems to have rattled a few cages. What I had wanted to say was that ska dances in 1960s Jamaica were the first instances of music with a repetetive, trance-like beat being played all night on bone-shakingly loud, bespoke sound systems, in outdoor urban spaces, under the stars. Add to this the element of an MC jive-talking over the records or making percussive, proto-beatbox vocal sounds to get the crowd going, and you have the key elements of 1990s UK rave culture right there, albeit via New York/Detroit/Chicago. In truth though, Jamaican dances back then would have included ska, rhythm and blues, doo-wop, country, calypso, mento, jazz, soul, mambo and anyting else they felt like throwing in, not strictly ska all night.

Being featured in the Guardian was prestigious, unexepected and hugely exciting. I'd like to think that I may get publicity of this scale again, but I reluctatntly think Nic was right. I suspect I may have had my moment there.