BILL WILLINGHAM AND BRIAN AZZARELLO AT C2E2 2011

They did things a bit oddly for this year’s C2E2. Usually, when you have a couple of artists or writers sitting together for a signing, there is one line for both of them. However, at the Bill Willingham/Brian Azzarello Vertigo signing, even though both of them were sitting at the same table, they each had a separate line. I didn’t know this at the time, and I wound up getting into Willingham’s line, thinking it was for both of them.



An authoritative-looking guy with a black shirt came by to make sure the line was kept orderly, and he handed the guy behind me a placard saying that we were capped off. The guy then asked us all if we were in line for Willingham.


I said yes. “And Brian Azzarello,” I added.

“There’s a different line for him,” the guy said. “It’s on the other side.”


I squinted to see what he was talking about. Surely another line would have caught my attention. I saw Azzarello sitting at the Vertigo booth to Willingham’s right. But where was this other line?


Wait. I saw two guys standing in front of Azzarello. Was this the line? Or just the beginning? They had us off to the side so only one person at a time could approach Willingham. Was it the same way for Azzarello?


Nope. The convention curse strikes again. I personally believe Azzarello to be the greatest American comic book writer of our time. Don’t believe me? Try 100 BULLETS as a starting point. Or maybe the JONNY DOUBLE mini-series. If that isn’t mainstream enough for you, try his LEX LUTHOR mini-series. If that doesn’t set you straight, I don’t know what will.

But every time I’ve seen him at a convention, I have never seen him with a respectable line. I once saw him with five people in line for him, but that’s the biggest it has ever gotten. Shame on you, comic book readers! To put it in terms you might understand, imagine if Stephen King had a signing at your local bookstore, and no one showed up.


Anyway, I stood in Willingham’s line, and it didn’t strike me that there were a lot of people waiting to meet him, either. But I’ll tell you, that line moved as slow as FUCK. I sometimes wondered if these people were sitting down to a quick meal with the writer of FABLES while he signs their books.


There were two women in front of me wearing blue scarves. It took me a minute to figure out they were statements of their love for Blue, one of the characters in FABLES. Very subtle. I kinda’ liked it, especially since I was in a place not known for an appreciation of the little things.


But this line was moving too slowly. I looked over and saw Azzarello had nothing to do. He was just hanging out, and here I was, feeling stupid for getting in this line first. I called Leo to find out what he was doing, but he was in a panel and didn’t answer his phone. I called Cliff next, and he came by. We talked for a bit while the Willingham line just DID NOT FUCKING MOVE. Finally, I asked Cliff if he’d keep my place in line while I went over to see Azzarello. He agreed, and I moved in with my stack of books.

The authoritative-looking guy was there, and I remembered he’d said there is a five-book limit. I tried thinking about which ones I wanted signed as I approached. We greeted each other, shook hands, and I asked about the rule of five.

Azzarello looked over at the authoritative-looking guy, whose back was turned. “Forget it. I’ll sign ‘em all.” I thanked him and placed them down in front of him. During our conversation, he kept looking up to check on the guy who was clearly supposed to keep tabs on him.

“Where the fuck did you find this one?” Azzarello asked, pointing to a pre-Vertigo comic of his. I will not name the title, for reasons you’re about to learn.


I told him that the guy at the comics store I usually went to (Unicorn in Villa Park on Villa Ave. just south of St. Charles—best store in the world, bar none) stumbled upon it one day and thought I’d want it. Naturally, I scooped it up.


“I never sign this one,” Azzarello said. “I never got paid for it, so the hell with it.”

It’s a story that’s all too common in the industry, and not too many fans know about it. Sometimes, the folks who put forth the hard work to produce great works that you enjoy get stiffed by the publisher. This was one of those cases. No wonder the company went out of business.


He started signing the others, and we talked about the interview we’d done at Wizard World, and how everyone seems to think that was the best feature we did for the Napalm Assault. Azzarello had read the interview and thought it was good, but he didn’t know why people found it so interesting, since we didn’t talk a lot about comics in the interview. I’ve given it a lot of thought since then, and I suppose they find it interesting for the same reason I do: we talked not about pop culture, but CULTURE.

When he finished signing, I told him that he’d just finished signing the complete run of 100 BULLETS for me. Over the course of several years, I finally had them all signed. He told me that I am the third person to have ever told him that. “Now I have to work on Risso,” I said.

Azzarello then told me that I was in luck: at this upcoming Wizard World (if it’s still going to be called that), he will be sitting with Eduardo Risso AND Dave Johnson. To be honest, after last year’s shit-fest, I didn’t know if I was going to cover it. Now armed with this information, I can’t miss it.

Finally, he looked at the one unsigned issue and said, “What the hell.” He signed it and then wrote “FU!” under it. I thanked him, told him it was great to see him again, and I retreated to the Willingham line . . . which had not moved.

I told Cliff about what had just happened, and we shot the shit for a while before he decided to move on his way. By then, I looked over at the signing table. Only Willingham remained, and there was still a half an hour left. It’s a good thing I went up to Azzarello when I did!

After a while, the line did move a bit. As hard as it was to believe, it took me until the last minute of the signing to get up to the man himself. I asked about the rule of five, and the authoritative-looking guy said that’s indeed the rule. As I went through the books, trying to figure out which ones I wanted to get signed, I let the guy behind me go ahead. By then, seeing as how I was the last guy in line, Willingham said, “What the heck. I’ll sign them all.”

We didn’t get the chance to talk as much as we did last time (see my C2E2 2010 interview with him), as he was speaking with the authoritative-looking guy, but he signed everything I brought in. He was surprised to see an issue of FLINCH in the pile, and the two of them discussed that for a moment.


Back when I was in college, I reviewed comics for THE LEADER, and one of them was FLINCH. I remember saying that they were rehashing old ideas at the time, but I never got to rectify my opinion publicly. Now it can be said: when all was said and done, FLINCH was worth it, especially after they adapted a few Lansdale stories.

Now, apparently, I’m one of the few readers who remembered the title, and Willingham seemed grateful for it. I shook his hand, thanked him, and I went on my way.