We’ve got some really great zines in this city. If you don’t know about them, or don’t know where to get them, come to the zine reading tonight! If you’re too lazy to read, or don’t like to, that’s okay too–tonight people will read to you!
Those who want to read from their zines, or even from someone else’s they love, are invited to email email@example.com and get a spot. Everyone else is just invited to come check out some new issues of various tiny mags.
These readers are confirmed so far: Erik Gamlem, Marya Jones, Mike Smith and Lisa Barrow
There will be snacks, and a big special announcement about the upcoming Albuquerque Zine Fest. People 12 years old and up, please!
Some new zines I already grabbed
Hitting the streets this week is the latest “Wig Wam Bam,” the zine of local music and nepotism put forth by sometimes Alibi contributor Captain America. This one will review about six months’ worth of shows. Pick it up at Cellar Door, Winning Coffee and Low Spirits. Also hot off the press is the new Nightly Noodle Monthly, a brochure for the inside of Eva Avenue’s brain. Snag it at Winning, and other places she might put it.
(Special thanks to my hand models who both have very good-looking faces that were not useful in these shots)
I had an editor once who wore sweat pants to the newsroom.
I did not approve. While I’ve never been a GQ type of guy, preferring cheap khakis and work shirts to slacks and dress shirts, I always tried to dress well enough to go to court.
When my editor would come in clutching a bag of McDonalds and a lip-balancing a cigarette, decked out in blue or black sweat pants, I couldn’t help but scoff (and cringe at the knowledge that a soul-crushing, spirit-trashing staff meeting was soon to steal an hour of my day.) Sure, we are print people, but that’s no reason to dress like like one had awakened under a freeway overpass.
I’m not too big to admit that I was wrong. I wrote an article this morning dressed in a t-shirt and boxer shorts. It was heaven. I felt like I had found Jesus after a life in mortgage banking. I have seen the light and been reborn. Hallelujah. Can I get an amen?
I am trying to freelance full time and I think I have just found the first perk among the many terrifying unknowns: no pants. Pants are overrated and a large portion of my operating budget. They have to go.
Lord, I don’t ask you for much, and I’m calling in a favor. Bless me with enough freelance work to continue to revel in the unbearable lightness of chortes. Amen.
It is time, boys and girls, to let it all hang out. Your literary genius, that is. Why? Because it’s Flash Fiction Contest time! Send me (firstname.lastname@example.org) your (maximum) 119 word story. If yours is chosen you’ll be published in the Alibi’s Flash Fiction issue.
I can’t promise this will launch your literary career or anything, but I can promise that it’s fun.
Teeny, tiny stories. 'Round here, we call 'em "flash fiction," but no matter what moniker you slap on them, they're the perfect vehicle for artsy folk with short attention spans. Duke City DimeStories would agree. The local version of nationwide DimeStories Theater begins this Thursday at 7 p.m. at The Source (1111 Carlisle SE). The open mic invites you to read your 3-minute tales; the best of them will be posted at DimeStories.org, where you can also go to learn more. For info about this event, e-mail email@example.com. Suggested donation is $3.