My newest mini zine, “The Birthday Party,” is now available via Etsy.
The zine is based on a short story previously posted on Patreon and revised to be several hundred words longer.
$1 | 16 pages | 1/8 US letter | black & white.
It’s that time again! I’m taking submissions for the upcoming fall issue of Wonderlust Lit Zine, so pleasepleaseplease feel free to send me your work or let your writer friends know.
Submissions close September 18, 2015.
As of this past Wednesday, it is now one of my three favorite times of the year! Along with Halloween and county fairs, International Zine Month ranks high on my list of seasonal favorites. Last year, I posted my ten reasons why I love zines as part of the daily prompts for July, and each still holds true.
You can download the daily prompts from Stolen Sharpie Revolution and follow along. This year I plan to make some copies of my prose poetry zine, Small Parts, to leave at work (prompt fifteen!), make a flyer for a few of my zines (prompt eight!), and finish up my one-page zine on cryptids (page twenty-three!)–among other things, of course. I also printed out some of the prompt lists to leave on the table at work, where we have various other handouts and flyers. Hopefully this along with the free copies of Small Parts will get some people interested in zines and International Zine Month.
Will you be doing anything to celebrate the month?
Have you enjoyed IZM before or is this your first year?
Last week, I shared my cut and paste approach to making zines; this week, it’s all about digital, baby.
I know this would be vastly easier to do if I had InDesign, but alas, I am blessed only with LibreOffice and Photoshop CS4, so that’s how I currently assemble my literary zine, Wonderlust. It tends to be a larger project overall, so the easier I can make it by working entirely on the computer up until printing, the less of a headache I end up with at the end of everything.
1. Start in Word (Or, once again, LibreOffice in my case)
Like with my cut and paste zines, I set up the page size in my Word document using the Page Layout option and go from there, copying, pasting, typing, and arranging everything I’m including in the issue. I usually start with a rough table of contents because that can be copied and pasted between issues with only the names, titles, and numbers changing. This step is made up mainly of waiting for submissions to come in, followed by deciding what order to put them in and simply reflecting that within the Word document.
2. Set Up a Cover in Photoshop
When I’ve got a cover image selected for the issue, either from submissions or a photo of my own if I haven’t received any, I begin laying it out in Photoshop.
I’ll set up my file to 8.5″x11″ in landscape (at 300 dpi), that way I can see both sides of the cover (front and back) at the same time. I prefer to use landscape photos for the cover that way they wrap all the way around the back simply because I think it looks more appealing, but it’s always an option to print on only one half and have a portrait photo for your cover instead.
From there, I’ll drag down the little guide lines from the rulers and set them at one-eight of an inch on each edge because that’s usually where printers stop, as well as in the middle; all this to help make sure the cover text is centered as best as possible. Then I set up the image in the way I find looks the best within the guidelines, sometimes allowing a bit of overhang past the lines because the dimensions are a little funny, and it won’t hurt anyway.
Lastly, I lay in the text, which includes the title, issue number, and season/year. Rather than place this in the same spot each issue, I allow it to move around to whatever space looks best with that issue’s cover photo, otherwise it might cover up a part of the cover that you’d actually want showing.
3. Save for Printing
I literally work where I get my literary zine printed, so I know that the best way to save the files is as PDFs. Other places may have other preferences, but I think PDF is always your best bet if you’re digitally assembling a zine to be printed later on. Plus, PDFs are the most common files used for downloads in my experience, so if you’re looking to offer it as a download at some point or maybe upload it to Issuu (which I’ve been considering), you’re all set.
I know different programs have different methods for saving as a PDF, so I’d say poke around what you’re working with (or google it, of course) to learn that one.
Et voila! I have a beautifully printed literary zine to share with the world.
In a way, creating a zine digitally is a lot easier than the cut and paste approach: It’s not as messy, can be done while lounging on the couch rather than hunching over the floor or coffee table, and is far more organized to start with. Nonetheless, I much prefer the cut and paste method on an aesthetic level as well as a creative one. It makes sense to do Wonderlust digitally, but I don’t know if I’ll ever put my other zines together this same way.
Now that you’ve seen my two approaches, what do you think? Which is more appealing to you? Why?
About a week ago, I had a quick Twitter chat with Emily about zines when she asked if I’ve ever posted about my process and what it is, and I realized that I’ve never done an in-depth exploration of exactly how I go about my zines. So that’s what we’re up to today.
Now, before I start let me just say that I am by no means a How-To Expert, so if I miss any steps or anything is unclear, please let me know and I’ll do my best to clarify.
I have two ways of going about my zine making process: cut & paste and digital. Today I’m just going to go over the cut & paste process because it’s my favorite method and it’s a little more fun to talk about. Don’t worry, though; I’ll be sharing my digital method next week.
1. Starting in Word (Well, LibreOffice)
To start, I type up my pieces on the computer, making a Word/LibreOffice document with the pages set up to the size that I want. The first issue of Whatsername, for example, was half US letter (8.5″x5.5″), so that’s what I made my Word pages with about a quarter-inch margin. Older issues of One-Girl Bicycle Club were always a quarter US letter (4.25″x5.5″), so when I did those, I set up the Word document at that size with something between an eight and a quarter-inch margin.
From there, I type everything out, including the cover text at the very end of the document. This gives me a general idea of the page length my zine will end up with and how I’m going to lay out the pages when I get to the cutting and pasting.
When I have everything typed and have edited until my eyes are ready to bleed, I go ahead and print the Word document two pages to a sheet, which you can find in the print options box.
In One-Girl Bicycle Club, I would take scrapbook paper and glue my paragraphs on top, then glue in the scrapbook paper onto my zine template, thus creating a little patterned border around my paragraphs. In Whatsername, I took a new approach, choosing photos on my computer and heavily editing them in Photoshop, boosting the contrast and applying filters (the Torn Edges and Half Tone being my favorites).
3. Cutting and Pasting
Once I’ve got everything printed, I get to jump into the fun, messy part: cutting and pasting.
The first step here is to create your template. I usually take however many sheets of paper I need to create the number of pages my zine will be (for example, a twelve-page, half-size zine–including covers–would take three sheets of paper) and fold them in the layout I’m going for, either in half or in quarters.
I always always always cut one essay at a time, otherwise I mix up the paragraphs without fail (and sometimes I even mix them up within the same piece). This is also where plenty of paper clips come in handy because I’ll cut out all the pages and paragraphs to one essay and clip them together, separate from the rest of the issue. With scraps of paper strewn about and glue inching its way across every surface, it’s already a messy project, so the more ways I can remain organized as I go the better.
Compared to the writing, this part is a breeze, especially if you’re like me and enjoy puzzles because it’s all about finding the best way to fit everything into your issue. This step usually takes me a day or two, depending on how motivated I’m feeling, and I almost always glue something to the wrong page at least once, which is why I highly recommend setting up a template before you begin rather than trying to remember exactly which page you’re working on.
Once you’ve got all your flats assembled, then you’re ready to take them to your copy shop of choice and start making copies. I usually do ten issues at a time because I don’t tend to run out very quickly, but that’s personal preference of course.
Like every other part of this process, when the time comes to make copies it feels like the most fun part because you get to play around with settings on the photocopier and choose fun colored sheets for your zine. The first issue of Whatsername is actually my first time using a colored sheet for my cover, and since I couldn’t decide between pastel pink or lilac, I went with both!
I use a long-arm stapler for my assembly, which is especially useful now that I’m doing half-size issues, because otherwise I would have to fold over the pages to reach the middle and that just doesn’t look great. It was about a $30 investment, but for how long I’ve been doing these and how long I plan to continue, it was more than worth it.
And there you have it! How I most often assemble my zines. Like I said, I’ll be sharing my digital method next week, which isn’t too different but uses only Word and Photoshop, rather than both and then printing–but you’ll see.
Any questions or suggestions? Anything that could be clearer or more detailed? Are you at all interested in making your own in this style now? If you already make zines, how do you go about it?
This year I had my second zine fest tabling experience (and third zine fest experience overall), and I’m already making plans for the next one. Last year I shared how my first time around at the Pioneer Valley Zine Fest went, and here I am to do it again.
I spent Friday night collating, stapling, and folding a stack of zines, prepping my table display, and attempting to keep my excitement under control because sign-in and set up started at 9am, and I wanted to be ready. My friend Katie came with me to keep me company and cover the table when I wanted to browse, and that was one of the biggest lessons of the day: Having company makes a huge difference. Last year I spent the day tabling by myself, only kind of talking to the people around me, and as a relatively unsocial person, that made for a long day, but this year the time passed with enough activity, distraction, and conversation that the time flew by.
My favorite thing about this year, though, was that there seemed to be so much more activity. I felt like I spent a lot of last year in a fairly passive state, watching people walk by once in a while and mostly doodling on a scrap of paper I’d brought with me. This year, though, I was almost always either making small talk with someone stopping by the table or talking with people around me or even just talking to Katie. It felt much more active than I remembered last year being, and I think that was another thing that helped the day pass with so much speed and enjoyment.
Of course, I also snagged a great haul throughout the day, picking up somewhere around thirteen zines through both buying and trading, and I can’t wait to sit down and read all of them this week. (Plus I bought a Papercut Zine Library shirt! I always love getting to rep zines in simple ways, just like with my Chicago Zine Fest tote bag.)
I don’t know if you’ve noticed at all, but I kind of adore zines, and I think it would be great if everyone everywhere made their own and got involved, so to get you started on the zine fest route, I thought I’d share a list of advice and lessons I learned between last year and this year’s experiences.
I can’t wait to see how PVZF turns out next year, along with the Boston Zine Fest, which I’m considering tabling at in the fall. At the very least, I will definitely be attending.
Have you ever been to a zine fest? Are you interested in them at all? (Hopefully yes!)
Submissions for the second issue of Wonderlust are now open and I am bouncing out of my shoes!
The response to the first issue has been fabulous, and I feel like things are only going to get even better. Every time I get an email I hope it’s a new order, and I’ve had so many over the past month or so that I couldn’t complain even if I wanted to.
I also learned a few lessons from putting together the first issue and successfully worked through a variety of challenges to get it out, and it was just an all-around positive experience for me, and I hope for the contributors as well. And that’s why I’m so excited for this second one! I can’t wait to see the amazing pieces that will be included, so if you wanted to submit to the first issue and never did or even if you were in the first and want to submit again, here’s your chance!
Last week I took the files for the first issue of Wonderlust into work and had them printed up in about fifteen minutes on Wednesday morning. Then I sat around waiting to pay for them so I could mail out the contributor copies. Then I made everyone wait all weekend for it to finally be available because I like starting things on Mondays. (Sorry.)
This first issue is a fabulous mix of poetry and prose, and I’m over the moon with how it’s turned out. The cover is beautiful, and the works inside range from gritty to heartbreaking (and sometimes a little bit of both). I do hope people love it as much as I do. I was surprised by how thin it feels despite coming in at twenty-four pages, but I think that’s impressive for a first issue anyway. Of course, I also love the layout, not to toot my own horn or anything. I just think it looks so good, inside and out! I’m in love, okay?
To celebrate this momentous occasion, I’m giving away a copy of the first issue, along with something of a “zine starter pack.” (Kind of. Not really?) It includes a copy of the newest edition of Stolen Sharpie Revolution, plus a mystery selection of zines that I spent Friday night choosing and ordering from Portland Button Works. It’s a collection of some zines I love and some I’ve never read and some of my own simply because I love giving away my own things once in a while.
If you search through the zines on Etsy, you’ll find a variety of styles, genres, and prices. Prices are, of course, one of the details that stand out to me when I’m browsing, not just based on my wallet, but also the fact that as someone who writes and sells zines, I have to put thought into what my work is worth. In the past few years, I’ve started to notice zines ranging anywhere from a quarter to ten, twelve dollars a copy. Sometimes I’ll roll my eyes at those higher prices, sometimes I’ll be interested enough to overlook that and add them to my favorites, my someday to-buy list. My feelings on this topic have changed over the years, and they still change almost daily. In fact, they’ve changed a number of times as I’ve written
Part of me wants to scoff at higher-priced zines and believe that they shouldn’t be more than a certain price. (I mean, at that point, can they still be considered zines? It’s complicated.)
But the other part of me asks, Why shouldn’t zinesters, any zinesters, be able to make an actual profit off of their writing and art? It takes effort and time just like anything else you could get paid for without judgment. People online make money for plenty of other things, so why not zines? So I berate myself for being so hard on others.
I’ve always had this idea that zines shouldn’t be more than five dollars. I have no recollection of where that number came from or why I started to think that, but there it is. That magic number that stands out whenever I’m browsing for zines, and this elitist-yet-not part of me tends to side-eye a little bit at people with the gall to charge more than that for their zines, as if I know what they’ve put into it or the quality of the content or anything of that nature just from an Etsy listing.
Sometimes I’m kind of a jerk.
My personal feelings still stand that I don’t want to price any of my own zines higher than five dollars, partly due to the fact that I want my zines to be accessible to people. I have trouble justifying spending so much on zines sometimes, and other times I don’t have two dollars to spare for an order, much less ten dollars. I don’t want people to see my zines and feel burdened by the thought of not being able to order one that they want. (This is also why I’m enthusiastic when anyone suggests a trade—I just want my work out there, however it gets there.)
But I know it’s not the same for everyone. Some people can’t afford to give their work away. Realistically, I can’t either, but I also want my work to be available. It’s why I blog without sponsors, something else I have conflicting opinions about, and it’s why I hide my zines in public places. I want my work out there where people can see it and, hopefully, enjoy it. But not everyone wants to make that sacrifice and not everyone can and maybe not everyone should.
While on the one hand, I think I’m a little justified in my apprehension, if only because those lower prices are what I learned as a part of zine culture when I first began getting involved, I also know that maybe I just need to suck it up and stop being so judgmental.
I’m curious what anyone else thinks, because I know pricing is a big deal for a lot of my online friends with businesses, and people in general looking to buy, so please share your thoughts with me on this one.