First things first, Zinesommar. Zinesommar!! You know when you and your friends are just shooting the shit and you get an idea and then it grows and grows until it seems like it could never happen? But then, through some sort of magic, it does happen, and you pull it off, and it’s really, really beautiful? That’s what Zinesommar was.

Whenever KC Zine Collective hosts an event — whether something relatively small like my monthly Zine Club, or our massive annual festival — I always get butterflies in my stomach leading up to the day of. All the “what ifs” nag my brain and I catastrophize. What if nobody shows up? What if the weather is miserable? For weeks, my weather app showed rain in the forecast for that Saturday, but somehow that rain never came. The sky cleared and was a beautiful, bright blue, and in our shady spot under the trees in the sculpture garden, it was breezy and comfortable.

We bounced a beachball globe around a gym class parachute and then traded zines underneath it, and we collaborated on a cyanotype artwork, casting shadows of our hands and trinkets. Plenty of people brought food, and there were zines to browse, and spells to cast: Nash brought cosmic brownies and their brownimancy zine, doing readings for whomever wanted one, and I passed around the banishing spell mini zine I started at Zine Club and everyone filled it with everything they wanted to leave behind and get rid of. Later that night, before the “Wicker Man” screening started, I ripped up the zine in front of the audience and had volunteers take the scraps home to be destroyed, to cast out all that unwanted bad energy. I threw my scraps into my compost, and Amelia shredded hers in a blender, and Heather texted me an image with her zine scraps being burned by candlelight. Out in the theatre lobby, Allegra live-screenprinted exclusive “ZINEMA” merch, and Jaydream brought a collection of VHS tapes that folks could snag after donating to the fest. So many friends contributed their talents and ideas to make it a fun, memorable event and so many folks came out in support. It was the perfect way to celebrate the summer and raise the funds we need to rent a big ass tent for KC Zine Con #11.

And now, here we are, it’s July already… which means that it is, *drumroll please* International Zine Month! Every year, Alex Wrekk creates a prompt list for the month, and while my participation sorta ebbs and flows, I’ve got at least 1 big IZM plan in the works. On Tuesday, July 14th (aka ValenZINES day), I’m hosting a letter writing party in support of the Prairieland Defendants. The night will start with a short presentation about the case, and then we’ll spend the rest of the time writing letters to the imprisoned activists. According to their support committee, these letters have been crucial in keeping the defendant’s spirits up, so we’re coming together to write them messages full of hope and love and bird facts and sci-fi book recommendations and good cheer.

In case you missed it, the Prairieland defendants are a group of activists in North Texas that have been made political prisoners by the Trump administration, being sentenced to decades in prison (30 to 100 years) for the “crime” of belonging to a signal group or wearing black and attending a noise protest. For being anti-fascists and anarchists. Their names are Savanna Batten, Zachary Evetts, Autumn Hill, Meagan Morris, Maricela Rueda, Des Sanchez Estrada, Champagne Song, and Elizabeth Soto. One of the protestors, Champagne, shot a gun at the ground to prevent a cop from shooting an unarmed protestor in the back. Another of the defendants, Des, was sentenced to 30 years for (I shit you not) moving a box of zines from his wife’s car to his own. If the case sounds like history repeating itself — another Haymarket affair — you wouldn’t be wrong. And similar cases are happening nationwide.

So. It’s International Zine Month, and the State is locking up zinesters. Fuck, that’s a bleak sentence. But it is also a reminder of why we write and create, and why zines are powerful. Zines aren’t just about self-publishing, they’re about building community. It’s what separates them from any ol’ chapbook or self-published something or the other. The State wants us isolated, alienated, easy to control. Through community, we push back. We care for each other. Writing a buncha letters is a little thing — it won’t set Savanna, Zachary, Autumn, Meagan, Maricela, Des, Champagne and Elizabeth free — but it will remind them that they are part of a community that stretches far beyond North Texas, one that cares deeply and won’t let them be forgotten and erased.

I’m not sure what else I’ll do to mark International Zine Month 2026, as I’ve got some big non-zine plans this month — travel plans. But I’ll probably tackle at least a couple of the other prompts (I’m looking at you, “explore zines from a country different than yours” and “write a review of a book, movie, concert, podcast or album to include in your zine.”) Are you planning on celebrating International Zine Month? What prompts are you itching to try? If you need some inspiration, here’s an episode of catmothcrow tv that I posted this time last year, sharing all 31 prompts: