Peep, Issue 8 is now available!

Peep now available on Etsy.com

{Issue #7 Available!}

Issue #7 (July 2008) is out now.  This issue features:

a refreshing recipe

poetry by A.J. Kaufman and Howie Good

everything you ever wanted to know about typewriters

and much more.

Issues are $1 (including shipping) to anywhere in the United States.  International orders are $2 (to cover postage).

As always, if you’re interested in submitting to Peep I’d love to see what you have.  I accept basically anything:  poetry, short stories, recipes, found notes, etc.

{Peep has a MySpace}

{Issue #6 available now!}

Hello all. Issue #6 of Peep (June 2008) is off the presses (or rather, the copy machine). I’m proud to announce that Peep is now available at the following stores:

Reading Frenzy (Portland, OR)

Bad Robot (Lincoln, NE)

Powell’s Books on Burnside (Portland, OR)

Guapo Comics and Coffee (Portland, OR)

Floating World Comics (Portland, OR)

As always, feel free to send me an e-mail (peepthezine@gmail.com) if you would like an issue. They are $1 each including postage.

I also accept submissions (stories, poems, black and white drawings, found notes, etc.)

{Issue #4, Hot off the Presses!}

Issue #4 of Peep is all done and ready to be enjoyed by all! 

This month’s issue features:

a delicious recipe

sayings about Dodos

movie recommendations

how to give someone the time of day in French

and much more!

We’re now offering subscriptions for just $10 per year.  This would help us immensely with production costs and it would insure that you get an issue delivered to the door of your choice each month.  

As always, let us know via e-mail if you would like a copy.   

{Issue #3, out now!}

looking for something?

Hey there. As you probably gathered from my previous post, Issue #2 of Peep is out now. As far as locations go, since I am in Portland right now it’ll be harder to come by an issue in Nebraska, if you’re looking for one there, but let me know (via peepthezine@gmail.com) and I can send one to you. In Portland I have left copies at:

The Portland Coffee House

Half & Half Coffee Shop

Maggie’s (on the Lewis & Clark College campus)

The Launchpad Gallery

This is just the start of the list. Hopefully I’ll distribute to more places soon. I’ll post the places as this happens.

Peep, Issue #2 out now!

Hey everyone.  The much anticipated Issue #2 of Peep is out now.  I’ve been busy, but I’m going to work on getting it distributed to various places, mostly in Portland, probably this weekend if all goes well. 

 Issue #2 may not look as well-produced as Issue #1, due to design problems with this issue and my lack of experience with a copier, but rest assured that Issue #3 will be back on track.  

   For those of you with a copy, I know the story is kind of hard to read, so I’m posting it here:

Fields

by Alyssa Perkins

I walk down to the field. It’s become quite overgrown—the grass is very yellow, stringy and stiff. I sit on the lone picnic table, a slouching old thing with no apparent purpose, at the edge of the field. The wide open area of the field is framed by a perimeter of bushes. I’m eating an overripe peach, tearing at the skin to get to the fleshy interior.

I was lying on this picnic table last year, wearing a prickly yellow sweater. Kacy was asking me if I thought I’d get married. We had just disregarded the idea of getting back together. Too much had happened: too many calls from phone booths, secret meetings at strip malls, and then there was her parents’ Catholicism. It would be too much, to invite everything back. I stared at the branches of the mossy tree above me.

“I don’t know,” I finally said.

The field transformed at night. Two years ago, when Kacy and I were together, we thought it would be romantic. I brought a heavy Mexican-style blanket when we went, folded over my arms. But instead of beautiful, the empty space of the field felt weighty, appalling, and the bushes were more like armies closing in. It was possible to walk around without a flashlight, but the ground itself was completely black. The grass and rocks were unpredictable, and sometimes our feet would suddenly drop down into indentations in the ground. We stayed in the field because of the stars, scattered crazily across the vast black sky in ways cities never get to see. We laid the blanket down and tried kissing each other, but we pulled away, frightened by the inescapable darkness in the field and behind our eyes.

Moments later a man came catapulting toward us, tripping on himself and thrashing at any bushes in his way. When he saw us, he stopped running, just stared, beer bottle hanging from one hand. We hardly blinked, wanting only to become the blanket, or the rocks, or the grass. I cradled my head between her chin and her shoulder until he became bored of staring and stumbled off in the direction of the campsite.

This is the sky I remember. A ridiculous blue, so blue it cannot be real, more like a weightless sheet pinned in place. My peach is too ripe, melts in my mouth too easily. I throw it into the grass.