We Are Excited! — Short Run Comix Festival 2026

Article

Oct 15

Written By Alex Eklund

I first heard about Short Run Comix Festival from a local retailer who, like so many beloved shops, no longer exists except as a fond memory and a ghost in my longbox. Back in those halcyon days, when my reading diet was an unholy mix of Big Two superheroics, reprints of old comics without a cover, and whatever small‑press oddity I could afford, this retailer was riding high on the Image resurgence and the meteoric rise of Saga. When he talked about Short Run, it was with the breathless excitement reserved for anything that promised to shake up the comics zeitgeist and bring interesting cartoonists to Seattle.

It took me another five years to actually attend. I was a younger teacher then, still under the delusion that working seven days a week made me noble instead of exhausted. In hindsight, that work‑life imbalance was my slow‑motion collision with burnout and the eventual nudge that pushed me toward teaching differently and exploring comics more seriously with Colin through our Canon zine.

A couple years before Canon, I finally started attending Short Run with all the awkward zeal of a nerd who hadn’t yet learned how to navigate a tightly packed venue without apologizing every three steps. Even so, the experience was exuberant. For years, the highlight of Short Run for me was seeing whatever wild new invention A.T. Pratt had conjured a genuine genius whose work feels like a transmission from a parallel universe where comics are allowed to be as strange as they want. In contrast, Anders Nilsen’s work hit the surreal and aesthetic parts of my brain simultaneously, a reminder that comics can be quiet, contemplative, and devastating all at once. And then there was Casanova Frankenstein, who convinced me that print‑on‑demand could produce beautiful work and nudged me toward self‑publishing far earlier than I would have dared otherwise.

Short Run Comix Festival is, simply put, a magical place. Kelly Froh and her board of directors have built an event that pulls people from across the country, and beyond, to celebrate the wonderful, beautiful, and deeply strange potential of comics. Kelly has an uncanny eye for what comics can be, and under her watch the festival has flourished. I hope it continues to do so for many years, because the medium needs spaces like this more than ever.

This year is especially meaningful for Colin and me. We have two projects debuting at the festival. First, we produced the fifth‑anniversary Athenaeum Comic Art magazine for Sean Watkins, one of the most supportive people in the comics community. It’s the work I’m most proud of to date, and thanks to Sean’s generosity, the first 50 attendees to Short Run will receive a free copy. Sean won’t be tabling, but if you spot the friendliest art dealer in comics wandering the floor, stop him — he’ll almost certainly have a binder of original art in his backpack that will melt your brain.

Second, Kelly commissioned us to interview guests and create a 2026 Canon Special for Short Run. We were honored, thrilled, and we can’t wait for people to read it. Some preview pages are below, but you should come to the festival to see the full thing and read about your favorite cartoonists in a compact little package.

If you’re on the fence about attending, this is the one you don’t want to miss. It’s free, it’s joyous, it’s weird in all the right ways, and it’s one of the last places where comics still feel like a living, breathing art form instead of a corporate asset.

Join us for a great time!