Yesterday’s post on Substack was a quiet little milestone: my first illustrated zine, fully hand-drawn and written by me, officially published. It took the better part of a day to complete — longer than I expected — but it scratched an itch I didn’t know I had.
Creating a zine is oddly satisfying. It’s not quite a blog post, not quite a comic, and not nearly as complicated as a children’s book or graphic novel. But it does require thought, planning, and just enough structure to challenge me. I think that’s part of what I like about it.
There’s something quietly rebellious about making a zine. I don’t mean political rebellion (I’m not a fan of that kind of noise). But it does feel like a small act of creative protest — a way to say, “Here’s how I see it,” without getting dragged into the shouting matches. For me, zines might be the ideal format for expressing ideas that are more emotional than argumentative. They offer a constrained way to talk about what’s happening in the world through shared human experiences, not hot takes.
This first zine used only pen and ink — sketched in pencil first, then inked with a technical pen. I’m thinking of trying a fountain pen next, just to see what kind of beautifully wonky results I get. I want the illustrations to feel raw, nostalgic, and handmade — like something you’d find in an old reading primer from elementary school.
The zine habit, I think, is here to stay. I don’t have the bandwidth to make a new one every week — the time commitment adds up fast — but I’d like to aim for one every other week if I can swing it.
Meanwhile, I’m also working on a zine for print (with a sticker pack, naturally). That one’s taking longer — a bigger time investment, more moving parts — but it feels worth it. The Substack zines, by contrast, are like sketchbook entries I get to share. They keep me drawing, thinking, and showing up.
And maybe that’s all a habit needs to begin.
You can go to Substack to see it, or you can download it here.
Let me know what you think!
