Stapled Pages, Big Worlds
Before I ever thought of myself as someone who could publish writing, there were zines.
Zines are small, often handmade publications — folded paper, stapled spines, ink and imagination — but they hold enormous worlds inside them. They are places where voices can arrive imperfectly, honestly, and without waiting for permission. For me, zines were where I first found the courage to share my words.
The world of zines is generous in a way that feels increasingly rare. Someone has an idea, gathers a few writers or artists, photocopies pages, and suddenly there is a small universe circulating through mailboxes, bookstores, art markets, and coffee shops. A handful of pages becomes a community.
I’m grateful to have my poetry included in two recent Seattle zines created by incredible women who are doing the quiet, devoted work of building spaces for writers and artists.
These kinds of projects rarely have big budgets or glossy marketing campaigns. What they do have is care — the kind that shows up in late-night layout sessions, thoughtful editorial notes, and the simple act of believing someone’s words deserve to exist in print.
That belief matters.
Zines remind me that publishing does not have to be gatekept by institutions or prestige. It can begin with scissors, glue, a photocopier, and a group of people who believe stories are worth sharing. Many writers I admire began in zines, and many continue to return to them throughout their careers. There is something grounding about the format — the scale is human, the circulation intimate, the intention sincere.
For me, zines are where poetry feels most alive.
There is something special about seeing a poem printed on a physical page, knowing that somewhere a stranger might be flipping through it on a rainy Seattle afternoon, or folding it back into a backpack to read again later.
It’s a quiet form of connection.
I’m deeply thankful to the editors who included my work in their publications and invited me into the zine-making process. Supporting small creative communities like this is one of the reasons I love being part of the Pacific Northwest arts world.
Below are the pieces as they appear in print.
Thank you to the women who created these spaces, and to the small but mighty world of zines that gave me the courage to begin.
