Epistolaria — a zine project

Will you let me write to you?

Very few people still send letters. Our physical mailboxes are often just filled with corporate junk, bills, or the occasional postcards. At gates and porches, our plastic-wrapped online orders are left by quiet, hardworking couriers, as if every day were consumerism Christmas.

I have always had a penchant for paper, its tactility and possibility, so I genuinely enjoy receiving mail. The postal system is a wonder I think people take for granted. It is, unfortunately, being used less and less for anything that is non-transactional. This renders mail as cold and impersonal, even though it goes through a number of human hands to arrive at our mailboxes. Both the disappointment at constantly receiving spam and the dopamine hit-and-crash from online shopping has become exhausting.

I wanted to revive mail for myself, so these past few weeks I have been trying to think of how.

Recently, I browsed the local antique store for vintage ephemera and found postcards and marketing materials for soap and paint companies from the late 1800s and early 1900s. These, I assume, were likely distributed both in person and via post. I was struck by how artful they were. Of course, these materials were intended to promote the company’s products, but they themselves were interesting objects. They contain useful information like remedies to common poisons, or depict a lovely illustration that elevates the card from a piece of paper to a work of everyday art.

At the same time, as someone who lives in a small town away from many of my friends and peers, I crave for a way to connect with people that isn’t instantaneous. I am grateful to exist in a time where I can easily send a message to my best friend or sister halfway across the world, but there are aspects of these relationships that I feel are best tended to slowly. Planned dinners or attending events together are, given the circumstances, not an option, so I have to imagine other ways of connecting more intimately. More meaningfully.

Missing my friends back home, I definitely looked at photos of last August’s BLTX with some sadness and envy. Participating in the expo — whether as a creator or attendee — has always been a highlight of my year. The space and encouragement to create without seeking permission or institutional validation is a gift I have carried with me since my first BLTX as an undergrad. Seeing snippets of the interesting zines on display and the community that zine-making fosters inspired me to return to the self-publishing table. To shamelessly make art, fold paper, staple them together, and offer it to someone beyond myself. How do I do that from the middle of nowhere?

These desires — to disrupt the transactional correspondence, to create everyday art, to connect more intimately from a distance — brought to life a new project: Epistolaria. Every quarter beginning this fall, I will be mailing epistolary zines to a handful of friends, family, and readers. Each issue will be different. It may contain printed poems, handwritten notes, recipes, sketches, vintage postcards, among other paper paraphernalia.

The first one contains a short essay, a poem, and a block-printed postcard.

This project is as much a personal creative exercise as it is a genuine desire to deliver surprise. When you receive the letter on a random afternoon, I hope you are able to take a moment to unfold it gently and read it at your leisure. It is yours to read, keep, discard, or pass on.

I intend to keep the zine free for all recipients, so I plan to subsidize its production with the paid subscriptions to my Substack. All paid subscribers will receive an issue, and I’ll send out as many as the remaining budget allows. Please send me an email if you’d like to be bumped to the top of the list, or consider upgrading your subscription to help support this work.

Meet you in your mailbox soon,

Lian

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Thank you to everyone who purchased my chapbook! It’s sold out on the publisher’s website, but I have a couple more author copies if you would like one. Write to me at semperfemiiina@proton.me