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from an .mp3 version played on his PDA, all while pantomiming a Japanese businessman dry-humping his Handspring Visor on the Tokyo subway; and listening to Ellis relate that he'd been told that all first-time writers should be issued a fountain pen and a condom, so they could put the pen in the condom and scribble away to their heart's content without harming anyone... all this and more, was well-worth getting up first thing in the morning on a Saturday after a grueling week of intensive meetings and seminars. Afterwards, Warren and Mimi and I met artist Brandon McKinney and his girlfriend Chrise for lunch. Brandon is the artist on Warren’s upcoming Switchblade Honey as well as the artist on my own Planet of the Capes. After a little oohing and ahhing over his tone work on his finished inks for the first few pages of the Capes , Brandon started to regale us with tales of the Skywalker Ranch. He’s doing illustrations for the Chronicle Books adaptation of Star Wars: Episode II , and has some office space at the Ranch at which he does his work. I couldn’t even listen to the poor guy, because we were eating lunch at Mel’s Diner, which is decorated with all sorts of American Graffiti memo rabilia… chief of which is the humongous poster of George Lucas, under neath which earnest Brandon sat. Too funny. Unca George loomed over all. So after lunch we headed over to Berkeley and got some coffee, talked about strategies for disseminating comics into the world, just hung out in Berkeley, waiting for the appropriate time. That was pretty fun, for a change. I don’t really like Berkeley, as a city, very much, but that was cool. And then, of course, was the signing itself, over at Rory’s. If you’ve been to a comic book signing, forget about it. This wasn’t like that one, at all. First, Comic Relief is more book store than comic store, so the physical surroundings were more reminiscent of a Notting Hill set, except with Planetary hardcovers and copies of Come in Alone instead of Moll Flanders and Shakespeare folios. Second, every single one of the 160 or so people in line were well behaved. Even the cheeky ones were good-natured instead of abrasive, and everyone had a chance to speak with Warren. I think more than a few were surprised at his person, because Warren is not the slavering ogre most expect from his more strident online posts. Genteel and well-spoken, I never once saw him less than gracious for the full three hours of the signing. After dinner for eight, the bill for which, I should note parenthetically, was picked up by our host, Mr. Root, we all went to hear Warren expound for another two and a half hours on all matter of subjects, ranging from comics

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