Hallow’s Eve Zine

The Story.

Years ago, I volunteered with a Seattle based group called Vaginomicon—a genius collective of women and femmes who gathered once a year to read horror short stories and raise money for Planned Parenthood. As someone who doesn’t consider myself a strong writer (I’m just an ideas girly), I was in awe of the talent around me. Year after year, the stories created were utterly fresh, new, and horrifying.

Then, the pandemic hit. I organized one last Vaginomicon online as a livestream, but in the haze of stay-at-home orders, BLM protests, and layoffs, the group faded away. I remained deeply struck. I lay awake at night thinking about the work, the ideas floating out there, unhoused and unseen. I had to do something.

I told the person I bring all my harebrained ideas to, my friend Lisa, and proposed an anthology of collected works. She loved it. Year after year, when I gave her excuse after excuse about why it wasn’t the right time, she kept bringing it up. She never let me forget that the idea was worth keeping.

I met Maggie at a screening of Sinners where I was a panelist. We talked, and I told them about the idea I’d been holding onto. Could they help? Maggie said they would do more than that.

So, here we are, during another time of great societal and political upheaval (crazy how this keeps happening). I’ve lost my dream job, and the job market is kicking my ass. And now, what was once a dream is now manifesting. I couldn’t have done it alone.