READ covers fiction, fanzines, zines with no fans except for us, websites, blogs, magazines, artist's books and other independent releases. Chances are, if it's been published then we know about it and chances are, if it's not in SixThousand, then we didn't like it. READ is for people who were born with ink in their veins and a fat balding critic on their shoulder. READ has also created more best-sellers than Oprah's Book Club and more wannabe to be writers than Hunter S Thompson.
Gotta be honest: I picked this up solely because it had Ice Cube on the cover. Ice Cube of the amazing nose. Ice Cube of still the best song to end a day on. 'Doughboy'! And he was looking his best too - all twenty and tough, not cuddly and silly like some later appearances we'd all prefer to gloss over.
So, there's been a lot of talk lately about iPads, the death of print media and so on. You are probably sick of hearing about such things. Fair enough. BUT. To give a very nice magazine credit, please look at the latest issue of Patterns of Creative Aggression.
Don't be scared off by the serious title, or slightly austere design.
Does Cam over at Grave New World make time to sleep? Such is his rapid output of impeccable product lately, we've had to wonder. So far GNW's speciality has been delicately packaged releases from Perth experimental musicians (Gilbert Fawn, Craig McElhinney) and now they turn their hand to publication with Heavy Petting, a 42 page assembly of text/photo/sketch, proffered by Perth creatives (both present and expatriate).
When you're writing about a magazine called TOP, it's harder than it sounds to ignore the hundreds of ‘top' puns trying to jump from your head to the page. When everyone featured in said zine is one of those extremely cool, talented, doing-awesome-things kind of people (read: tops) and excelling in it (read: at the top of their game) it makes it even harder.
Sitting on a limestone wall in Matilda Bay I can perspectivally hold the tiny City of Perth in my hand. "Tiny city!" I yell. "What are you about?" I am at a loss. I think we all feel like this sometimes.
Fortunately, these New Poets articulate so perfectly what often eludes us about this place and our connection to it: the river, the freeways, the expansive and ever changing sky above us, our friends.
If I told you, "I made a smell... in my pants!" You would think I was some kind of comic genius. You wouldn't be wrong, but this would only reinforce smell's status as the underdog of the senses. And that don't smell right.
If Sissel Tolaas told you she made a smell, you would take her seriously.
Melbourne seems to be the primordial soup from which new literary journals in Australia spring forth. The latest is Kill Your Darlings, a quarterly publication showcasing commentary, interviews, new fiction and reviews. Having just completed my masters in creative writing, I look to these journals like they're the cool kids who might one day accept me as one of their own - maybe even go joyriding down Thunder Road with them, or dance at the malt shop.
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