Glory-of-the-snow # 10: Spring–Autumn 2007

Half-sized, 20 pages, $1
This one is almost all poetry, with a few bits of daily-life-in-prose interspersed. In April of 2007, I wrote a poem a day for the whole month: this is the result. (I felt like I needed to let the poems sit for a season before editing them and choosing which ones to include.) City-poems, subway-poems, spring-poems.

Glory-of-the-snow #9: Autumn 2005

Quarter-sized, 24 pages, $1 and one stamp
This is a text-heavy zine full of city-details and other miscellania: walks through Brooklyn, thoughts on small spaces, a review of Happiness & Education by Nel Noddings, and a poem or two. I like it lots.

Glory-of-the-snow #8, at last: Summer 2004

Half-sized, 32 pages, $2
A month of my life in poetry: a poem for each day, inspired by David Lehman. My day-to-day existence at the end of my senior year in college: after finals, after graduation, before finding a job. These poems aren't all polished and beautiful, but I'd like to think they're interesting, I'd like to think they say things that prose might not.

Glory-of-the-snow #8, almost: June 11-13, 2004

Quarter-sized, 32 pages, finger-painted cover, $1 and one stamp
Created in 48 hours for a zine challenge I heard about online. It's mostly prose, on a variety of topics: summer walks and summer memories, libraries, love, this city I call home. There are also two poems that later ended up in my all-poetry zine (see above). Black & white photos. Of all the zines I've made, this one might be my favorite.

Glory-of-the-snow #7½: August 15-16, 2003

Quarter-sized, 24 pages, $1 and one stamp
Written over a 24-hour period in August, illustrated with photos taken earlier. Hand-written prose: yoga, sailboats, people-watching in Newport in the height of summer. One page of haiku, a list of things to do in Boston, a list of things to do in New York.

Glory-of-the-snow #7: Winter 2001/2002

Quarter-sized, 24 pages, $1 and one stamp
Sophomore year of college: black & white photos, journal-ish prose. "i thought welcoming fall would be a gesture of independence, and i would walk the streets alone like a rilke poem," I wrote in late September, but of course I was wrong. This zine's about falling in love with people and places, noticing details, being young and feeling a little too much.

If you're interested in ordering any of the zines above, e-mail me: I'll e-mail you back with my address, and you'll send well-concealed cash and/or stamps. If you'd rather use Paypal, make a payment for the total cost of zines plus postage to hmo19 at columbia.edu, and make sure you include your address and which zine(s) you'd like in the "comments" field.