Our summer of ♥ continues, as Jason Rodriguez tells us why he ♥’s Page 22. Jason’s the editor of several comic projects, like the upcoming Postcards (due in stores July 24), Elk’s Run, Kill All Monsters and Western Tales of Terror. More info on his work and upcoming appearances can be found on the Eximious Press blog.
Take it away, Jason …
Page 22 [peyj twuhn-tee-too] n. – The last page in a serialized comic book; not necessarily the 22nd page. The name comes from the standard comic format of 22 pages of content and 10 pages of ads.
There used to be this Mom & Pop store called Louie’s on Henry Street between Carroll and President in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn. As kids, we’d stop there everyday after school because Louie’s had everything a kid liked more than homework: DJ Boy and Operation Wolf, boxes upon boxes of Joyva Jelly Rings, quarter waters, and comic books. I’d spend a small portion of my allowance on chocolate and sugar water and arcade games; the rest would go to a comic book that caught my attention. G.I. Joe, Transformers, and the occasional Spider-Man – even some of the more embarrassing comics like Mad Balls, Popples, and the Get-along Gang occasionally made their way home with me. I never had a desire to collect consecutive books. I never felt like I had to pick up the next Batman comic. I spent many years of my childhood perfectly satisfied with purchasing a comic book, reading it, enjoying it, and then deciding what book I was going to pick up next.
Until Page 22 knocked me upside my head.
1991. I was 13. I wasn’t even reading comics, really; I gave them up at least three years earlier. We didn’t go to Louie’s after school anymore. We were too busy trying to impress girls with our (admittedly non-existent) skating skills and our (admittedly amateurish) graffiti pieces. That didn’t mean all of my friends gave up on comics. Some of them kept up with it and got more into it. They were going to comic book specialty shops like The Dugout on Smith Street and this place over on Henry and Kane that was run by this guy named Mark that claimed to be a black belt in karate.
My friend Gennaro was one of the guys that were keeping up with comic books. I was at his apartment one day when he picked a stack of four comics off of his table and gave them to me. I’ll never forget his pitch:
“Dude – you should totally read this. It’s about this guy Thanos that kills half of the universe.”
How could a kid say no to that? I took the books home and read them that evening. I enjoyed the first three issues immensely. I knew most of the characters and the ones I didn’t know (Adam Warlock, Silver Surfer, Thanos) were quickly growing on me. And then there was the fourth one. Part four of a six-issue mini-series. The last book in the stack that Gennaro gave me. Thanos on the cover saying, “Come and get me.”
Infinity Gauntlet #4.
I remember reading it as a kid and getting incredibly excited. “Oh man – Wolverine just turned into jelly! They put Cyclops head in an invisible block! Thanos just shattered Thor! OH SNAP! Silver Surfer missed the gauntlet!!!!!” That comic caused my teenage brain to feast on all kinds of awesome. And then I get to Page 22. Thanos looking over his shoulder and seeing every god in the Marvel Universe. I didn’t know who any of them were but I knew one this was for certain: Thanos. Was. FUCKED.
And then that was it. No page 23. No Issue 5. I called Gennaro up and asked him when I can finish the story and he told me I’d have to wait a couple of weeks. A couple of weeks! And then another month for issue six! Page 22 of Infinity Gauntlet #4 forced me to go to Mark’s comic shop and start my first pull list - I didn’t want to miss anything.
Page 22. The page that causes me to laugh whenever someone tells me it’s only a matter of time before comics exist solely in trade and hardcover. Page 22 is Daredevil reborn and about to fight Nuke in the penultimate chapter of Frank Miller’s “Born Again.” Page 22 is NYC engulfed in white light after Ozymandias says, “I did it 35 minutes ago,” in Watchmen #11. Page 22 is little Virginia Applejack lying in the woods bleeding and broken at the end of Stray Bullets #2.
Page 22 is what gets you to the message boards, talking about your favorite comics. Page 22 is what makes you flip to the credits page to make sure you know the name of the person writing this book. Page 22 can make you fall in love with a character, with a creator, with a book, with a storyline – a well-played Page 22 can make you fall in love with comics.
Page 22 is kind of like the last two-minutes of Lost if every episode of Lost started with you somehow forgetting that Locke could walk before coming to the island and ended with the reveal that the wheelchair was his. Page 22 has no constraints. Page 22 doesn’t need to be in continuity, it doesn’t need to make sense, it just needs to be righteous – they’ll explain it on Page 1 of the next issue. Or they won’t - they don’t even need to, really. The next issue could be a study of paint drying and you’ll still continue to buy the series provided Page 22 has a full-page splash of a fan-favorite character getting a sword through the gut.
I love Page 22 so much that I think there should be the comic-book equivalent of a relief pitcher. If the book really needs the win, really needs to close out strong, they make a call to the bullpen and Mark Millar comes out of left-field and drops a Page 22 with your favorite character that’s been dead for five years walking out of an explosion, standing over a wounded Spider-Man, and saying, “Look what ended up in my web.”
That settles it. My next anthology project is simply going to be called Page 22. It’s going to be nothing but page-after-page of full-page splashes of obscure characters, mind-boggling action shots, and cheesy puns. And people dying or being resurrected. 220 pages of Page 22 from the best in the business. After every page you’re going to say, “Oh snap! I can’t wait for the next issue!” And before you even realize that there will be no “next issue” you’ll get to the next page and say, “Oh snap! I can’t wait for the next issue!”
Because that’s what Page 22 does to us. It keeps us coming back every month to spend another $2.95+ so we’ll know what happens next. It keeps us reading.
June 27th, 2007 at 11:17 am
Excellent article. I love Page 22 too. I just forgot about it.
June 27th, 2007 at 11:41 am
You are so right on. It’s one of the main reasons I love comics, and serial storytelling in general. I’m still waiting for the comic that will give me that same “waiting for Watchmen #12″ feeling.
June 27th, 2007 at 12:11 pm
Brilliant. Wonderful tribute to the feeling of “I gotta read the next issue, now!” that we all get with the best comic books. Nice work.
June 27th, 2007 at 12:30 pm
Very nice. I’d totally buy an all cliffhanger book.
(Though am I the only one who finds it amusing that the Top Dog(?) page was page 23?)
June 27th, 2007 at 12:43 pm
I thought comics were 24 pages? Did the page count drop when they stopped putting numbers on the pages? Huh?
June 27th, 2007 at 1:05 pm
Page 22…
I need to look at the Top Dog book - they may have numbered ad pages (although you’d think the number would be higher, however).
At any rate, “Page 22″ is more of an abstract term. I just picked up three comics and they had 22, 24, and 28 story pages in them.
22-pages is the standard script length a lot of folks write to, however.
June 27th, 2007 at 1:07 pm
Oh! And thanks for the nice words, everyone!
June 27th, 2007 at 1:18 pm
I really enjoyed this article. Nice take on why some of us buy monthly comics and can’t wait for the trade.
June 28th, 2007 at 9:24 pm
I had that issue of Madballs! It’s a number one I believe, purchased during a time I felt for sure (the 90s) that any number one issue had to be worth LOTS OF MOOLAH!! I also had that Top Dog, jacked from a stack of comic books my dentist had for his patients after yanking teeth. Good times!
June 29th, 2007 at 11:03 am
That’s Madballs #3, actually. I never had 1 or 2, I don’t think.
I did have a bunch of Madballs, though. I even had a Madball football.
June 30th, 2007 at 1:12 pm
Nice job!
More than one page 22 has completely taken over my life for a solid month, anxiously wondering what will happen next. A good page 22 can make you forget everything else that happened in the issue, or in any other comic that came out that week. (Nice analogy about the relief pitcher! Perfect!).
I want an all-page 22 anthology. Badly. It’s an art all on its own.
August 23rd, 2007 at 6:42 am
i heart when an article articulates something you knew but didn’t know that you knew…like this one. something i’ve always loved about comics (for my meagre eight years of collecting) and never dwelt upon. awesome. and you gave it a name, even though it was, like, obvious and stuff it sounds cool to say: page 22.
i would actually by a page 22 anthology if it was done well - just like a book of covers.
August 23rd, 2007 at 6:44 am
i wrote ‘by’ instead of ‘buy’. sinful - damn you impatience!