Zine Reviews: 2023, so far

For zinenthusiasts looking to build their collection, let me present Anna Jo Beck‘s terrific Zine-a-Month project over on Patreon. For less than the cost of a Hulu or Netflix subscription, ZAM patrons get a brand-new zine delivered straight to their snail mailbox once a month.

What started in early 2021 as a solo-venture by Anna — a way to share “micro-print-runs (of her) zines for a small, devoted audience” — ZAM has blossomed into a thriving zinecosystem. Although the zines change from month-to-month, the one constant I’ve found is that they’re always quality and reading them almost always makes me smile. Some months you’ll get an Anna original, like January’s “Echándole Bolas”, a zine that collects a smattering of fun facts and tidbits about Hispanic culture, inspired by a recent trip to Mexico City. You’ll learn some basic dance steps, how to make a knock-off of Café Avellaneda’s Juanito espresso drink, and more. There is even a mini-zine insert about movies shot in Mexico City to cut-out and fold!

Other months, you might receive a comix (like September 2022’s “Suburban Myths” by Andy Hood), or a fanzine (see Februray’s ode to Lady Gaga’s Artpop “Love Me Love Me Please Retweet” by Megan Kirby), or even a foray into emoji poetry (July 2022’s “Same Shitty Life, New Positive Attitude” by Francis). One of my most recent favorites was March 2023’s wonderful “Trash and Bag on Bikes” by @trash_and_bag, a simple collection of comix about 2 bike riding characters. As a bike commuter, these comix felt very #relatable, and I hope we see more from the cartoon duo soon. And I would be mistaken if I didn’t mention the most recent ZAM release, Msss‘s “Rows and Rows”, a truly top-notch tale, featuring gorgeous, bold illustrations and cryptid cottagecore vibes. It even came with a bonus bookplate sticker!

But all that being said, what I’m here to do today is review the service, not the zines, because once a ZAM zine is released into the world, good luck on finding back issues. For the most part, these ZAM drops are limited edition, and the only way to get a copy is to become a subscriber. So, to paraphrase the words of the incomparable Dale Cooper, once a month, every month, give yourself a present: subscribe to Anna’s Zine-a-Month patreon today, you won’t regret it.

“The Chick Magnet” by Jeff Phillips captures a moment in time: way back in 2001, Jeff posted a photo essay to his blog about taking his nephew to the zoo. He learns the “social potential” of having toddlers around (everyone wants to tell you how cute they are!) and contemplates his own feelings about parenthood. The essay was eventually reviewed by the New York Times, and then it was reprinted in zine-form in 2020, and now I am reviewing it here.

As a zine, “The Chick Magnet” is a quick, delightful read. The cover is unassuming (just text on the page), but within are some truly lovely photographs. Jeff has a great eye for capturing children in a way that both highlights their smallness and vulnerability, while letting their emotions read larger than life. The story that accompanies the photos is equal parts poignant and silly. It’s a quick read, and if you’re a person who cares for kiddos and enjoys great photography, I bet you’ll dig it!

I can’t believe it’s taken me as long as it has to review an issue of “King-Cat” here… something about “King-Cat” sort of feels like a given, like if you’re into zines, surely you know about John Porcellino already and you don’t need me to tell you that his stuff is great. But people are always learning about zines for the first time, and maybe you didn’t get into zines the same way I did, so maybe John hasn’t been on your radar. And that’s totally okay – I’m gonna put him on your radar today.

“King-Cat” is a long-running series of autobiographical comix by John Porcellino – he’s been publishing them since before I was born and this here is issue number 82. New issues of “King-Cat” always feel like the universe’s way of telling me to slow down, take a deep breath, and just be still for a while. There is something totally soothing about the small moments John captures as comics, the birds and cats and Midwesternness of it all, the appearance of the Top 40 list, always there and steady and welcoming, like an old friend. Issue 82 has a list of “Nature Notes” that I found especially delightful, a heart-wrenching tribute to John’s late cat Michi Moonbeam that left me teary-eyed, and a Letters section that contains some absolutely wonderful, funny, weirdly poetic messages from a Patrick Porter of Austin, Tx. But the standouts for me are the comix “Walking Slowly in the Backyard” and “Through this Dream”, which both had that aforementioned meditative, calming effect on me. There is a gentleness about “K-C” that I so appreciate, and reading each issue is always a treat.

When your favorite zinester publishes something new, it is always a cause for celebration! And so, when I saw an envelope in my mailbox with their familiar, loopy cursive, it was time to bust out the purple confetti: Maranda Elizabeth has not 1, but 2 new zines out!

Today I’ll be introducing you to “Crip-Psychogeography: Mad & Disabled Visions of the City, or: SHOW ME SECRET PLACES”. This zine serves as the artist’s statement for Maranda’s recent photography show of the same name. And it contains all of the things that I love so much about their work: stream-of-consciousness questions that feel like prompts and, in their own way, answers; an appreciation for aimless wandering and an anti-capitalist, lived-in approach to urbanism; a love of place, space, and home. While I’m sad that I wasn’t able to make it up to Toronto to see their photography in a gallery, I’m so glad that I have this zine and that it exists. If you’ve never read Maranda’s work, I’d wholeheartedly recommend picking this one up: it serves as a great introduction to their work.

“Let Me Put My Pants On” is a wild ride. Part 1 of a 3-part travel series, this zine is written by an anonymous someone, full of stories recounting the authors’ time spent “riding trains, hitch hiking and sleeping in all the places you’re not supposed too.” Time jumps and we find our author ricocheting from Seattle to Atlanta, Gainesville to Fargo, and the shit that is thrown their way ranges from the outrageous and hi-voltage (only 9 pages in, and they find themselves in a car that’s going 100mph, being chased by cops on the highway) to moments poetic and pure (their description of the Hi Line on page 30 is just that.) The zine culminates with a revelation: “life’s too short to waste drinking in circles in different towns you never see. I want to see everything. I want more.” It’s a blessing that this zine only comes in a set with 2 more volumes, because once you reach that last page, trust me, you’ll want to read more and find out where our author lands next, if they get to see everything, if they get to see more.

Maya Kosover sent me a bouquet of mini-zines, each one a little jewel-toned treat: there is her Audre Lorde zine, featuring a quote from Lorde dressed in pretty purple paint, “We Will Not Cancel Us” shares excerpts from adrienne marie brown’s book of the same name against a bed of resplendent florals, and “Skeleton Woman” illustrates reminders from Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D.’s “Women Who Run with the Wolves”. But it is when Kosover is sharing her own words that I think her zines are strongest: my favorite of the bunch is “Murky and Lofty Intentions” a heavily-collaged zine that Kosover created during their Saturn Return “at the start of that confusing time, the first time in (their) life (they) experienced depression and grief in a way that completely consumed” them. The zine asks questions and offers up poetry like an offering to the chaos and confusion, a way of using art as a guidepost and road map thru the muck and bramble of life.

“You’ve Got to Stop This” arrives in the grand diary-comix tradition of zines like “You Don’t Get There From Here”, “Snakepit”, and “King Cat” (in fact, I suspect that the format of YGTST’s covers might draw inspiration from the monarchical feline – a homage that feels like a calling card for fellow autobiographical diy comix fans.) Written and doodled by Phoebe Ward, the series explores a variety of topics through 1-page comix, most revolving around Phoebe’s life as a student in the dorms of Carleton University. These collegiate snapshots – see “Study Spots”, “Campus Announcements” and “Views from Davis 106” – are probably best enjoyed by fellow students, but when Ward leaves campus is when these comix really shine. Issue 3’s “Reflections” is a stand-out – absurdist and clever – and I appreciated the “Objects of the Week” feature that starts Issues 1 and 2. It’ll be interesting to see how “You’ve Got to Stop This” grows and changes over time – I think that most autobiographical diy comix only get better with age and additional issues, and I’d love to see the shape this zine takes post-graduation.

Chris Yao creates zines to “learn about autistic life experiences so that (they) can put words to things (they) do + feel.” They shared “Photolog: 2015” with me, as well as a smattering of their mini-zines, and I appreciated getting a glimpse into their world. Published in 2020, “Photolog: 2015” features the snapshots Chris took while they learned to use a new camera: images of their surroundings, both natural and built, spindley trees and metro stations and calming flowers. Chris captions their photos with little contextual details; from the captions alone, I’ve gathered that they’re an Urban Planner, with a passion for nature (they’re part of their school’s environmental alliance) who once volunteered with Montreal’s Jane Walk (a Jane Walk is an annual neighborhood-exploration event inspired by the writings of the exceptional urbanist Jane Jacobs.) I learned even more about Chris from their brightly-colored minis: one about their experiences with diversity & inclusion training, another about echolalia, one about autistic burn-out, and (my favorite) a collection of their “foody memories”.