#old trek zines

[existentialcrisistime]

Look what arrived! I won these three Star Trek zines for an absolute bargain price on eBay (£2.50 each, I was the sole bidder), and I'm so happy to have them

Plak Tow is a gen TOS anthology, this issue from 1982 and featuring a story by Della Van Hise of Killing Time fame. Cover art by Christine Myers

Obsession is a Kirk-centric zine, this issue was the final and published in 1984, featuring a few mildly spicy pull-out pinup style Kirk art pieces. Cover art by Barbara Walker

Otherwhere Otherwhen is a K/S slash zine with a focus on AU stories, this issue published in 1992. Cover art by Marilyn Cole

[pavel-chekov-appreciator]

I love this trope I've noticed in AOS k/s fic where the author will put in one or two lines to mention Uhura and Spock having, usually at some unspecified point in the past, broken up amicably.

And it's always either just a vague "amicable breakup" or, if it is clarified why, it's like. They realized they were looking for different things out of a relationship, or they weren't as compatible as they originally thought, or Spock realized he was gay. Some super normal mundane reason to end a relationship, nothing dramatic. And then it's usually clarified or implied that they stayed really good friends after.

It's so refreshing because I very clearly remember the fandom days of irrationally hating and bashing on the female character who "got in the way" of your gay ship.

[sponeszine]

Search for Spock - Released June 1, 1984

This First of June will be the 40th anniversary of Search for Spock (and all the Spones goodness of this movie).

(Since there's already so much Spones creating going on, we're not making an official event. However if you happen to create something to celebrate the 40 year anniversary, we will be tracking #SFS40 & #SearchForSpock40. It may also be a great prompt to make something related to SFS for Spones Day on June 26th!)

@fuckyeahspones @sponesevents

[flippyspoon]

From: from The Legacy of K/S in Zines: 1991-1995: Publisher by Publisher (as found on Fanlore):

Front cover of issue #26, by Dragon -- "The cover of Naked Times 26 definitely deserves a second look. It’s by Dragon, and portrays a long-haired Spock with a tiny braid in front of one ear, a high pony-tail on the other side, and a warm smile. It’s really hard not to return that smile with one of your own! Also, this is the last Naked Times zine that employs borders around the text of stories, a different one for each tale. The use of borders was a long-standing tradition in the older zines. It added interest to the pages, and was useful in allowing a reader to quickly identify what story she was reading, but it also definitely cut down on the usable page-space for words.

[rubbertplant]

who do you think was the first person to make the trek science division symbol gay.....

[yuniper]

i was thinking about that article about fanfics i reblogged the other day again and something else occurred to me.

i think another sign of the commodification of fanfics are these posts that get really popular on here about how "the hardest lines always come from fanfics" or "there should be an ao3 wrapped" and such. i feel like it's another sign of how fanfics are treated as this homogeneous mass and we're building communities more around fanfics and not around the fandom they were meant to celebrate.

of course you can't really build communities that way because while everyone sharing these posts might share an enthusiasm for fanfics, people's actual interests that they read them for are completely different.

[bogvalley]

Working on a couple collage pieces for a current project and I kind of really liked this one that turned out star trek themed because like half of the magazines I own are star trek magazines

[auressea]

*chin hands*

wouldn't it be AMAZING if we could find B.L. Barr and share your fantastic reboot of their incredible art.

Hello! I was curious if your creature Spock happened to be inspired by this creature Spock from an 80’s fanzine?

https://fanlore.org/wiki/Consort

P.S. I love him, thank you for your service 🫡

Yes he is! I absolutely love that work of art and once I saw it, I couldn’t get it out of my head and just had to design my own version of him!

P.S. thank you!!

[sp0o0kylights]

Give meee: an Eddie who went into a small little bookshop on an Indie trip and stumbled across an in person fandom meeting. 

It's mostly Star Trek, and also mostly women, but the stories they have are nothing like Eddie's ever read. 

He's barely a teenager, and already protective of himself and his real identity--but everything he's ever wanted is written down, right here, on a little zine with Kirk and Spock doodled on the cover. 

They’re not--it’s not obvious, that they’re what he is, but the story itself is blatant and Eddie ends up being so obviously close to tears, he accidentally outs himself without ever saying a word. 

(He also ends up on the mailing list, then being sent home with several hand printed copies of all kinds of zines.) 

Eddie would remain on this list well past his third senior year in high school. 

Past bats, and Vecna and Steve fucking Harrington. 

Flash forward to his first apartment.The tiny one he shares with Steve when they followed Nancy and Robin to college. 

Steve knows Eddie’s gay. 

Or rather, Steve has been told, but Eddie's still pretty clammed up about it. He's not yet where Robin is, ready to bemoan her loveless existence while draped over their crappy, thrifted couch.

He makes jokes and he flirts and he absolutely says things he shouldn't, but none of it is real. 

It's flash. Showmanship. 

It's the persona that yes, is him, but Eddie consciously built it. There’s nothing soft or gooey there, nothing anyone can use to hurt him. 

So when he comes home and sees that plain, padded envelope with the neatly printed label on the counter, torn wide open and flat without its contents?

 Eddie panics. 

His heart thunders in his chest, vision tunneling as adrenaline kicks through him. 

He wants to bolt-- should bolt--except ever since he almost died his brain no longer obeys him. 

Not when it comes to running, anyway. 

Instead it fights him to a standstill, freezing his feet right to the living room floor. 

The urge is still there. 

To run, and save face the cowards way. 

Vanish before Steve could get at a part of him that had once kept Eddie out of Wayne’s trailer for two days, until the old man had hunted him down and made him come home, huffing about how he’d love Eddie no matter what but he better never disappear like that again. 

(Which Eddie did anyway, and of everything that happened with Vecna, it’s that he regrets the most. The stories he heard of Wayne putting up posters. Squaring off with angry, too-righteous townies, and--)

A sniffle jerks him out of his thoughts. 

Eddie gasps, entirely unsure of when he stopped breathing. Stumbles back and turns, right in time for Steve to come out of his room and amble down their hallway. 

One hand rubs at his eyes, and the other is--the other has…

Eddie identifies the cheaply printed, stapled zine immediately. It's one he's wanted to read for a while now, solely because it features a story about Kirk and Spock being stuck in a cave together on a planet that has  bat-like, vicious animals on it. 

Kirk gets bitten after something goes wrong with the transporter and, look, it’s carthiatic okay!? Sue a guy for wanting to read a romance about a situation he identifies with! 

Steve looks up from the zine and startles. 

For a second his eyes go dark and flat, the same way Eddies and Robins and Nancy's and everyone's does when caught off guard. 

It's gone in a flash though, Steve visibly relaxing when he clocks that it's just Eddie. 

He keeps the zine pressed to his sweater clad chest,  and huffs out a laugh that's half forced and half pure relief.

“Fuck Eds, you scared me! I didn’t know you could be quiet.” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie manages, voice sounding totally and absolutely normal and not at all ten octaves higher than it usually is. 

They stare at each other for a second. Long enough that Steve's eyebrows crinkle in the middle, which is the first hint that he’s beginning to worry, and Eddie really cannot handle Steve being worried right now.  

“What's--” Eddie’s voice cracks and he coughs to recover. “what's that?” 

Steve frowns at him for a moment, until Eddie gestures at the zine in his hands. 

“Oh!”

Steve holds it up, as if to show it off. 

“It's a little book Robin got in the mail. It has a bunch of stories in it. They're normally boring as fuck but this one's from Star Trek.” 

Hearing the words ‘Star Trek’ out of Steve’s mouth shouldn’t be weird, not anymore, when Eddie and Dustin have been on a two man mission to nerdify Harrington as much as possible, but it still kicks like a mule to hear him say such things without any prompting. 

“You know what Star Trek is?”

“Eddie,” Steve tuts, tongue clicking in his mouth. “everyone knows what Star Trek is. It’s nerd shit, but like, old nerd shit. My grandparents used to watch it when I stayed over. This?” 

 He shakes the zine, so hard Eddie wants to snatch it away from him.

 “This isn't nerd shit. This is excellent.”

Steve gives the zine an appreciative glance and hell, maybe Eddie accidentally walked into another dimension. 

He’s been trying to get Steve to read more, rediscover the joys of books the public school system does its best to destroy, but until now Steve hasn’t really taken to it. 

Enjoys when Eddie reads aloud sometimes, and has started to bug Robin to do it for him too, but otherwise?

Eddie’s nerve seen him with anything that had the written word on it that wasn’t a cooking or car related magazine. 

“Honestly,” Steve’s saying, “I think Robs fucked up, this isn't her style at all. She’s gonna be pissed.” 

He eyes the thing appreciatively, like the gift it is. 

“I'm stealing it the second she figures that out.” He adds decisively. 

“You like it?” Eddie asks. 

“Mmm.” 

“Even though it's--it's got…Kirk…” 

Steve's frowning at him again. “What?” 

“It's queer man. It's really queer.” 

Steve peers at him, the crinkle back in his eyebrows. 

“I know. Wait, how do you--” 

And well. It’s now or never. 

“It's mine.” Eddie says in a rush.

“No it's not.” Steve scoffs, and okay, maybe this is a dream. Eddie pinched himself twice already, but perhaps a third time would wake him up?

(It does not.)

“it was even addressed to Robin. Well,” Steve has one hand on a hip now, his default position when arguing, “Robbie, but she goes by that sometimes.” 

Which Robin does, but not in the fucking mail.

Without a word, Eddie turns and goes for the envelope the zine came in. 

Steve follows, invading Eddie’s space to peer over his shoulder (and that’s Eddie’s fault too, that closeness, but he didn’t think it would be turned on him in a moment like this--) 

There's a sticker on the envelope’s label.

 It’s barely hanging on, half of it curled into the air.  Round and yellow, with little black lines, it becomes immediately obvious that one of Robin's smiley face stickers has migrated again. 

They're all over the apartment. Remnants of a phase she went through after she stole a roll of them from her and Steve’s job at a local toy store.

This one had clearly jumped ship from its original spot (likely on the ceiling somewhere), and was now firmly over the E in Eddie's name. 

‘Ddie’ still isn't exactly ‘Obbie’  but--

Steve leans around, snatching the envelope up and bringing it close to his face. 

Far too close, like he can't read it, eyes squinting as he examines the label--and suddenly Eddie knows exactly what happened. 

He laughs, an explosion of noise that's half hysterical and half disbelief. 

Steve looks at him. 

“What?” 

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, one finger jabbing in the air in the vague direction of Steve’s nose. “I told you you needed glasses!” 

“I do not!” Steve protests immediately, but his eyes are darting around the envelope. 

He’s scrambling to figure out what Eddie’s seeing, trying desperately to find a hole that can prove himself right. 

Eddie decides to help him, by plucking the smiley sticker off the envelope. 

“See?” He jeers, and shit okay, maybe his life isn’t over just yet. “It says Eddie, not Robbie!” 

“You guys have got to start using your government names for this shit.” Steve bitches, but it’s weak.

Eddie feels a grin coming on, and lets it overtake his face. 

“So...Kirk and Spock huh?” 

“They’re cute.” Steve defends instantly, before sighing his defeat and tossing the envelope on the table. 

The zine he keeps in his hands. 

Eddie crosses his arms and leans against their rickety table. “Even though they’re both guys?” 

“I thought we were past this!” Steve whines. “I went to a gay bar with Robin last weekend!” 

Which is news to Eddie. 

“You didn’t invite me?” He gasps, feigning hurt by putting a hand over his heart. 

Truthfully he still hasn’t fully recovered--is play acting himself, almost, but is rapidly coming around to the idea of Steve appreciating queer fanfiction. 

“We did!” Steve rolls his eyes so dramatically his whole head moves. “We absolutely did, You said,” 

Here Steve’s voice pitches into a mockery of Eddie’s  that he will not give him points for, even if it is a little hilarious, “Me? At some loser bar? Fuck no, I’ve got a campaign to write. Starbuck, don’t you have homework?” 

“I didn’t know that was a gay bar!” 

“You did! Robin told you!” 

“Okay well, I wasn’t listening!”  

“Clearly. I keep telling you we need a fucking--system or, I don’t know, a code word or something!”  

“Yeah well, when you wanna make us a safe word for conversations, big boy, you let me know.” 

They’re both laughing a little now, this argument veering into familiar territory, with Eddie not really listening and Steve mocking him for it later. (As well as vice versa, with startling regularity.) 

“You really like it though?”  Eddie says after the laughter winds down, gesturing to the zine still clutched in Steve’s hand. 

“Yeah.” Steve confirms, easy as he’s said anything else. Like this isn’t embarrassing, or almost worse than the time Wayne found Eddie’s porno mags and alphabetized them as a joke. 

“It's part of a mail tree. I’m supposed to send it on to the next person when I’m done with it. I make copies though,” Eddie rushes to add, because Steve is now clutching the little booklet to his chest in horror, as if Eddie was about to rip it out of his hands. “If you like I’ll show you my other ones?” 

Steve eases his grip, giving Eddie the little smile he makes that makes his stomach flip. 

“That’d be cool.” 

(Later, Steve pokes at Eddie’s thigh from where they’re both sprawled on Eddie’s bed, Steve having switched the new zine out for one of Eddie’s copies. “Are you going to laugh at me if I ask you to read some of these aloud?” 

“Only if you don’t laugh when I ask you to take me to that gay bar.” 

“Deal, but on the grounds you’re barred from making fun of my flirting attempts. Robin doing it was bad enough.” 

“Well you deserve it if you’re hitting on women at a gay bar, Stevie.” 

“I wasn't hitting on women you asshole.” Steve says and oh.

Oh.

Eddie feels the floor drop out from under him for the second time that day. 

At least this time it’s not fear that thunders through him, but possibility.) 

[macgyvermedical]

Um... What is whump 😅

Well, like a number of fandom terms, that's a lot of different things to a lot of different people. If you look on a bunch of whump blogs, you will see almost as many answers to this question.

I personally feel it boils down to a genre founded on the way of showing a character's vulnerability in fiction without the necessarily using romance or sex. So generally that means some kind of illness or injury, where one character has to take care of another (or the much more recent version, which is one character hurting another character, with or without the care aspect).

It's been around in a variety of ways since fandom was a thing. The first name for the genre probably originated out of the Star Trek fandom, whose authors wrote "Get!Character" (for example, Get!Kirk or Get!Spock) fanfic in paper zines in the 1960s. The next term, "charactertorture" (for example, muldertorture) came out of The X-Files fandom in the 1990s. Livejournal and Fanfiction.net preferred the term "Hurt/Comfort" to refer to the genre as a whole, without tying it to a specific character or fandom. Finally, around 2005, we started seeing the actual term "whump" gracing entries to Gateworld forums, though originally it referred to "ShepWhump"- injuries and illnesses befalling the character John Sheppard of Stargate Atlantis, which later broadened to include characters from Stargate SG1 and then any other fandom or character. At this point, people who enjoyed whump were called "whumpers".

Around 2016-2018 there was a shift to include explicit torture without following it up with the care and comfort that had long been part of the genre. Now instead of the vulnerability coming only from opening oneself up to care in a dire situation, the vulnerability could be forced onto the character by another character. It is still to an extent accomplishing the goal of causing a character to experience vulnerability, but it depends on the author/reader/watcher as to which definition of whump they ascribe to. At this point, the term "whumper" started to refer to the character who was doing the hurting/torturing within the story, if there was one.

It's honestly been a relatively big split in some parts of the community, which is why you saw the poll I reblogged the other day asking whether people preferred whumperless whump (old definition) or whump with a whumper (new definition).

[existentialcrisistime]

Inside cover art from Plak Tow 7 by Christine Myres, published 1982

[jesuisunghost]

Seeing old star trek zines is so fucking cool. Like, i cant explain it properly but like, seeing something you love also be loved by people way before you were born is just so cool. Its a very specific vibe but like. Agh.

[mizjoely]

Dearest Sherlollians, Love MizJoely XXX

Ta-da! The final fruits of my Sherlolly labors. A love letter to all Sherlollians, past, present and future. **

Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who gave permission to use their wonderful fanworks in this zine. Feel free if you want to download and print and have your very own olde-timey fanzine. Sherlolly was too late for that party, but since I started out there, I wanted my most recent fandom love on my bookshelf alongside my Classic Who, Star Trek, and Blake's 7 zines.

Enjoy!

**(To anyone with the old link: Sorry! This is the correct final version of the zine. A story was missing from the one I had previously uploaded.)

[thezinedirective-inactive]

The Zine Directive FAQ

We will update this information periodically, but wanted to "put some words on the page" so to speak. If we missed your question, please DM us!

So, what's going on here?!

Will the zine have a theme?

Will it be explicit?

What is the timeline?

How much will the zine cost?

How can I get a copy?

How do I become a contributor/Why wasn't I asked to contribute?

I was asked to contribute, but I haven't heard anything. Should I be worried?

How else can I help/get involved?

So, what’s going on here?!

We're making a fanzine with one mission: To pay homage to those who came before us in this wonderful, timeless fandom that is Star Trek. The goal is to produce something that will be directly comparable to the fanzines of old; Typed on typewriters, printed & copied at a print shop (yes, even those pages), bound by hand, and sent to recipients in the mail. There are some aspects that may not translate to the 2020s, but we will try our best to be as authentic as possible. Luckily, we've secured involvement from several of the lovely women who were actually there making zines in the 70s, 80s, and 90s to guide us :) More on this will be announced soon!

Will the zine have a theme?

Not exactly, but it will exclusively feature Star Trek: The Original Series (+ films). This is not done to exclude AOS, SNW, or other Treks, but rather to celebrate the one that started it all. However, it will be a K/S slash zine (mcspirk also welcome!) so if you're not into seeing Kirk and Spock smooch, this one might not be for you ;)

Will it be explicit?

Yes :) How explicit will depend entirely on our artists and authors. Purchase age will be strictly 18+.

What is the timeline?

The 60th anniversary of Star Trek is September 8th, 2026. So while the official release is TBD, it will be around this time. Fics (and other writing, like poetry) will need to be finished earlier than artwork so we have time to organize companion illos. We also need ample time to type everything by hand on our typewriters, leaving room for broken equipment and/or user error (both of which are equally likely to happen). We expect assembly to take several months since us editors are doing this for the first time and also have jobs/families/school to think about. Once we have a more concrete timeline, that will be shared directly with our contributors to include deadlines and check-ins.

How much will the zine cost?

To be perfectly clear, this project is 100% nonprofit. That is very important to us not just for legal reasons, but moral ones. This means the cost of the zine will not exceed what was put into the materials, assembly, postage, etc. Similarly sized zines in 1970 were in the range of $3-$5, which is about $25-$40 today. We will do everything in our power to keep the price as low as we possibly can.

How can I get a copy?

We will make several announcements leading up to sign ups. As of right now, it is very likely we will have to limit the zine to < 200 copies. After some time has passed we will release it digitally, so don't fret if you're not able to get your hands on one! If there’s enough interest we may also do a second publication :)

How do I become a contributor/Why wasn't I asked to contribute?

As of right now, we do not have an open submission process. We would love to include EVERY piece of art, but with a physical zine we are limited by physical space, so we will have to be more discerning than we might like. As time goes on and the table of contents is decided we will announce more opportunities to contribute, so follow the blog to be aware of those! You can always feel free to DM us if you're interested, but we can't guarantee there will be room for everyone who does this. If your idea doesn't fit exactly, we'll try our best to find a way for you to be a part of it.

I was asked to contribute, but I haven't heard anything. Should I be worried?

No!!! We are working diligently to get everything set up, we promise. We have not forgotten about you <3 Kat (spirk-trek) is dealing with difficulties on Tumblr at the moment, in that she's unable to send or receive messages. If you're trying to get ahold of her please do so through this blog or on discord (katruyck) until further notice.

How else can I help/get involved?

First of all, thank you for asking. This kind of question really warms our hearts! If we decide to take donations of any kind, we will share that further down the line. This would be to cover costs only, and any excess would be donated to fanlore or other archival efforts. We won't do this if we don't have to, and would really rather not. If you're interested in taking a more involved position in the process, please message us about becoming a mod, especially if you're good with discord, have experience making physical zines, have a working typewriter, or are really passionate about fanzine history like we are!

Thank you for reading, and for being here at the start of our journey :)

[d3molition-lov3rs]

thinking about festivals held out in the zones. news of the event being spread through word-of-mouth, coveted zines, secret frequencies revealing the location through the radio. long treks with your crew across the desert, out into the far-flung parts of the zones away from where the scarecrows patrol, the radiation waves causing the horizon to blur and distort in the distance. clusters of vehicles, caravans and cars and motorbikes and trailers all clumped together in circles, fire-pits for roasting during the day and for huddling around for warmth at night. the stage is made of old pallets and plastic clumsily tied together with cord and rope, the stairs up to it creaking with every heavy step and threatening to collapse all together. the music is loud and electric, chords and drumbeats ripping across the desert, painting colours and noise through the otherwise silent landscape. the bands never stop playing, music blasting all hours of the night and day as killjoys mosh and fight and drink and laugh together in the crowd. motorbabies curl up together on top of the caravans to watch the show from afar, sharing sweets and comics and hand-made trinkets and jewellery amongst themselves. alliances and friendships are made with crews from the other side of the desert you otherwise would have never met, the memories encapsulated through the stories that will be told for years to come. art is made and shared in the form of painting one another's cars, tattoos inked deep into sun-tanned and blistered skin, photos snapped on old polaroids with long-expired rolls of film. songs are written in the moment and performed and played again and again and again, the melody forged by the magic of those present at the event. the final hours of the final day are marked by the early rising sun lighting up the people passed out in the sand, the roar of engines turning over, the sight of another crew disappearing over the horizon.

[formosusiniquis]

A ficlet i posted to bluesky last night inspired by @morganbritton132 and this post

Steve has been a science fiction fan since before he even knew what it was.

When he was little, and his Mom didn't have to travel with his Dad to make sure he wasn't getting another secretary pregnant, she would lay beside him in bed and tell him stories of Captain Kirk and Commander Spock.

His Mom had the best voice. Soft, rasping, passionate.

She made up a cast of fantastic characters he got to meet each night, listening to their adventures through space and time until he was too tired to ask for just one more.

And at the end of each one Kirk and Spock lived happily ever after.

That was his favorite part. The happy ending. Sure they would have to go on a new adventure the next night, that was the fun, but at the end of the story the danger would be gone and they would be safe in their room (or the medbay) once more.

He was embarrassingly old when he caught a rerun of Star Trek and realized the characters his Mom had told him about were on his TV.

Some of their adventures were even the same.

But the one undeniable difference: Kirk wasn't quite so handsy with his Lieutenant Commander as he was in her stories.

He can't resist asking her about it on his phone call that week.

"How many of my bedtime stories were just you remembering last week's episode?" And "did you change the ending because bedtime stories were supposed to end with a happily ever after."

"Check the hatbox in the back of the guest closet and call me back tomorrow." Is all she says. A tease because 15 had somehow been the magic number that transformed him from son to friend.

He goes to the closet.

And inside he finds papers. Dozens, hundreds, stapled and folded and spiral bound.

They're like magazines but as he flips through one and then another and another and another, Steve realizes the one thing they have in common.

They're stories. Just like his mother used to tell him.

Well, not just. He finds himself opening to one that has an artistic rendering of poses he has his doubts Captain Kirk could actually achieve and doesn't really want to imagine his Mom reading.

But the others, okay and that one too, he spends hours that night pouring over in his bed.

And then he finds one he /knows/ he's heard before. Going back to the title page he finds in neat typewritten print. By Lucille Matthews.

His Mom, her maiden name sure but with the content and the times he can think of dozens of reasons why she'd want that safety net.

When the time comes for their next phone call he doesn't ask Why or How. He asks, "Did you workshop your stories with me or did you tell them from memory?"

Then later, "If I drew something from your story, could I send it to you?"

It goes on like that, and a little like how it did when he was a kid. Only instead of having his Mom curled up beside him, she's on the phone telling him stories from the apartment they keep in the city.

Steve has always been a better artist than writer, with the phone at his ear he sketches.

He mails the pictures to her. Mimeographed copies of the originals. Some are scenes he though sounded badass, some character portraits, but his favorites are the happily ever afters.

Soft close up moments of Kirk and Spock after the adventure. Moments together, pictures of hands or soft looks.

He doesn't tell her why those soft after moments are so important to him now. He's never told her of his own dangerous adventures.

But some days he wonders if she knows. If there's some mother's intuition that makes the ends of her stories longer, gentler than they were when he was a kid.

Later, when she's home so they can go to a convention a friend wrote to her about, she gives him a gift.

Wrapped carefully, he can still tell it's a booklet. Thin, probably stapled together. He's even more careful when he opens it.

Before he has time to appreciate that it's a zine. She's taking it from his hands flipping to a page she already knows, but their shared particular nature wouldn't let her mark.

He sees the title, familiar because it's one he had pitched. He squirrels that away for later to focus on what is beneath.

In blocky, type face he traces his fingers over the Xeroxed words.

By Lucille Matthews with art by her son Steve.