A hangover.

Actually, I've just finished working on Underfire Comics Presents: Rock Night, a story all about the impact of a sudden loss of responsibility, the end of the world and smashing Brighton up with a cricket bat. Looking back on it, it was an immensely, some might say stupidly, ambitious thing to try to do - eleven creators working on a single story - but I really believe that the finished product is worth it.

It came out of us all talking about how we wanted to do something that involved the whole of the Underfire Comics team but was more than just a themed anthology. And we were all getting really sick of Brighton. What we came up with is a book where individual story arcs weave in and out of one another within an overarching plot. That was two and a half years ago, although to be fair a large part of that was getting all the artists to have a clear schedule at pretty much the same time. We're currently fleshing out plot ideas for the next one.

For sheer storytelling power I'd have to say When the Wind Blows by Raymond Briggs, just pipping his Ethel and Ernest to the post. I think his art is amazing for the way it captures who people are without flashiness but with real sympathy, and to do so consistently in sequential panels that push his story along unobtrusively but with genuine narrative progression is mindblowing. It’s a brilliant tale too.

Back in the eighties, when the whole home taping thing was really kicking off, Venom used to put labels on their albums that said 'Home Taping is Killing Music. So are Venom.' Despite the abysmal quality of their albums Venom never succeeded in killing music and in fact inadvertently founded a whole new sub-genre of metal. Meanwhile the tape trading circuit broke far more acts than it stifled.

As far as I can tell, art and commerce are two of the few things that it is impossible to kill. Torrents may change the way that the comics industry does some things, but you won’t stop people telling stories and you won’t stop people making money.

I think that my mum's cat still counts as my pet, even though I haven't lived there for at least eight years. That cat is old, but she still freaks out like a kitten whenever I visit. All I have in my flat is houseplants.

I throw like a girl if that girl were Tank Girl.

Sadly I very much doubt it, although I was *almost* convinced that we have when I was around fifteen/sixteen. Then I actually learnt some science.

Not in the 'got so pissed the night before' sense, because no matter how drunk I get I have a very good sense of direction, but I have done in a more existential manner, which may well be a worse feeling.

1. The ability to phase-jump short distances. Like Nightcrawler.

2. A badass magical sword.

3. To be a space pirate with my own ship.

I very rarely remember my dreams, which is probably a good thing because when I do they're absolutely terrifying.

The most confusing thing I've ever received was a copy of the London Magazine, which is a really literary short story magazine, and an invitation to a launch night or gallery opening or something that arrived at my mum's house some six years after I'd moved out. I couldn't understand why they would send me a copy for free, where they'd got that address from since I hadn't used it in at least six years and what they wanted with me at their party. Although, when I did work it out it was really boring.

I've had some real slanging matches with my girlfriend, I've had bitter, icy rows with my sister and I've had heated political discussions with most of the people I know, but the most ferocious arguments are never about anything concrete and usually with people you've known for a long time but have somehow got into an untenable situation with, no matter how much you may feel for them. They're the ones after which you can't really be friends anymore.

I can't think of anything funny to say to this, so I'll tell the truth, but I won't elaborate, if that's ok. It was when I was very young.

I used to work for a national discount bookshop chain, as a floor manager at one of the stores in Brighton. One day our area manager emailed all of her stores to ask for suggestions from the staff for ideas to help cut back on spending for the area. This from a company that pays its store staff the absolute minimum wage. I was covering a store that was absolutely dead at the time, so I had loads of time on my hands which I put to use writing her a long email.

The email discussed in depth, with examples, how certain staff could use the 40p a mile petrol allowance for business travel to supplement their income and broke down the fact that those who drove a lot were pocketing much more than the cost of their fuel, compared to those who took public transport who would only be re-imbursed the cost of their tickets. Of course, as an area manager she racked up a lot of time in her car.

I may also have suggested that upper management take voluntary pay cuts, but we won't go into that here. To my surprise I received no disciplinary action, which was a shame because she was an absolutely abysmal manager and I was really gearing up for a fight. However, a few months later when I handed in my month's notice she did hit back, by emailing out that very same day a revised telephone list with my name removed from the Brighton contacts. The best thing about that though was that the list still had on it the name of a manager from a different branch, whose actual last day it was that day.

As a writer or as a character? As a character I'd love to be in the X-Men, but only if I had a cool power. As a writer, I'm not sure I'd really be happy churning out scripts that had to conform to a monolithic pre-existing canon. I don't really enjoy writing superhero stories anyway and, although it can be good artistically to work under some constraints, most established franchises have so many constraints that unless you're a Big Name Writer you're basically doing hack work. But then again, work is work and you generally have to do the hack work first to become a Big Name in that particular section of the industry.

On the other hand, I did some preliminary scripts and story plans for Tales of Midnight a little while back and it was one of the most dispiriting things I've ever done, although admittedly I don't think that Tales has ever actually made it into comic form. I sense that this answer is becoming increasingly confused. I'll finish it by saying of all the well known characters out there the one I think I would most enjoy writing for, and who I think would most suit the sort of stories I could write, would be Tank Girl. There.

I would resurrect it with my foul necromancies and command it to do my own terrible deeds for me. Or failing that I'd go back to writing bad fantasy novels.

Also, I'd steal Stan Lee's glasses from the corpse. I bet I'd make a bundle on e-bay from that shit.

Dog Years, by Gunther Grass. It was my dad's favourite book and I'm named after one of the characters. It gives me a link to him.

Favourite would be a strong word, but I tolerate the Guardian because it's still technically left wing and they put all of their articles online for free. Needless to say, given my first answer, it’s the Daily Mail that wins the prize for biggest xenophobic, reactionary, badly written piece of shit.

There's a Thai restaurant just round the corner from my old flat who's Tom Yum Soup is seriously one of the reasons I keep going back. That specifically is my favourite.

I'd probably be dying my hair, as the colour's really starting to fade and my roots are showing.