"What a good idea," I thought. So I signed almost all the rest of the things I read, and a couple of things I hadn't got around to, (I set aside "Blueberry Girl"; she's not for auction) and gave them to Charles Brownstein, and told him to make money for a good cause with them.
One was sold the following day at the CBLDF panel. There's another up for auction on eBay right now: eBay Seller List: cbldf. You'll find some other cool things there as well, including a signed (by Alan Moore) copy of Miracleman #1.
Which reminds me....
for your readers info, the second Alan Moore book, "The Extraordinary Works Of Alan Moore" is now out. For those with long memories, you had a librarian in your attic on February 23, 2002 (http://www.neilgaiman.com/journal_archives/2002_02_01_archive.asp#10047174) to find material for the book
link to publisher's listing: http://www.twomorrows.com/books/moore.html
-S
George gave me a copy when he saw me at the San Diego Comic-con. I posted it back, so haven't read very much of it yet. I talked to Alan about it today -- he loved the two page story I wrote about him, which Mark Buckingham drew (really delightfully. He's ace, our Bucky) and Todd Klein lettered. The second page of the comic is about the pond in Alan's back garden. "Did you know I actually have a pond in my back garden?" he asked. And I didn't. But that being true, we decided that the rest of it was probably true as well.
I did read enough to learn that the book has a matched pair of incredibly funny and brutal introduction and afterwords by, respectively, Amber and Leah Moore, who are a) terrific writers and b) write about the Alan that I've known for...(Um. Eighteen years. Good lord.)
I all-too often fail to recognise Alan in pen-portraits done by other people -- he's larger than life already, but sometimes in interviews or articles I read he suddenly turns into someone who looks like the photographs. When Frank Miller realises someone is taking a photo of him, he looks at the photographer like a mad falcon who's just focused on a tiny dot of a mouse a long way below that is just about to be dinner; and when Alan gets his photo taken he sort of looms grimly, and shadows wreathe around him, and he looks like Santa Claus's thinner, more murdererous, magical younger brother. Whereas in real life and out of photos, Frank Miller is someone who, in conversation, mostly guffaws with delight, and has the sense of fun and continuous wicked grin of a really dangerous eight-year old who has just realised that the Grown-Ups can't stop him now; and when I think of Alan, I think of the way he grins, in real life, like Maxwell the Magic Cat, the strip he used to write and draw (as Jill de Rais), and of his enthusiasms, and unfailing politeness and lack of bathroom carpeting. That's the Alan that Leah and Amber so cruelly expose to the world.
(It was a joy to see the cover of George's book -- it's a painting of Alan that Dave Mckean did in about 1987, as the cover of a book I never wrote, and it's a joy to see it updated and out in the world.)