David Prater just posted up a review of
all of the reviews his latest poetry book, Leaves of Glass, received in 2014, noting that even though there were only 5 for the year, that’s a pretty good swag for a book of contemporary Australian poetry.
Many books never get so many as that. That they’re all effusively complementary, and placed in undeniably venerable journals, is certainly a bonus, David says.
It got me thinking about the world of the zinemaker and the even more precarious likelihood of anyone ever reviewing your work ever, ever. David may be rightfully stoked to have scored 5x reviews for his poetry book in a single year, but from my perspective I’m 100x more stoked when I hear about even one review of any of my zines in a single year.
No matter whether it’s negative or positive, the simple acknowledgement of existence that’s embodied in a zine review always leaves me with a warm glow. Hence this link to Secrets of the Photocopier’s review of Jutchy Ya Ya #48.
Elle may have concluded that my zine is trying so hard to be nice, quirky and humble that it ends up being smug and annoying, but I’m of the school of thought that this conclusion is largely a matter of taste, choosing instead to be pleased that someone took the time to read one of my zines carefully and with deliberation, describing it in enough detail that any independent reader of the resulting review could easily make their own mind up about whether or not to risk the time and effort it might take to chase down a copy so they could experience Jutchy Ya Ya #48 for themselves.
Edit: Elle read this and got in touch to clarify with me that she doesn’t think I’m trying to be nice – she thinks I am nice, which can still be annoying all the same. Which I totally understand and which is also very sweet of her.