Tomorrow, I’ll begin wearing the Safety Pin Review’s sixth consecutive story. This is a lot of me. Probably much more than is healthy and/or valuable for this zine. Especially because, all things considered, in terms of the outside world, I do very little. I’m a cloistered, reclusive college student who rarely ventures out into sunlight.
In retrospect, I might not have been the right person to have the idea for the Safety Pin Review.
But! I did, so be it. And I am finding others to wear issues in the future, to offer more exposure for the brilliant stories that we showcase (forthcoming, two NYC’s and one Chicago). The stories we wear aren’t permanently retired after they’ve served their week—they are meant to travel, to go elsewhere, randomly. I’m trying to send them out with other people. It’s an ongoing process.
When there’s no operative, the stories go with me. And they’ll continue going with me as I make my way. One guy wrote on his site that he wants to see some “mosh pit lit”—I’m working on it. We’ll get there. I’m still finding my footing on this thing. Bear with me, patient people.
People are slinging around a lot of nice words about the SPR; all of the credit has to go to the authors. So stay tuned, we ain’t going anywhere. Just keep sending great submissions, I’ll keep painting them onto patches and wearing them and/or sending them to awesome people who lead far more attractive and interesting lives than I do (starting, for example, with Brian Hurley, who will be wearing Issue Eight, starting November 7). It’ll be a blast.
I apologize for the blurry quality of these photos. This is what happens when (a) your primary camera dies 50 miles from its charger, and (b) when you entrust photographer duties to a literary critic (these AP photos credited to Mygüel; he’s the one with the long hair).