1–The discovery of a cheap used typewriter at a thrift store leads Sarah Wayward to create a zine that is eclectic, informative and archetypically DIY. Wayward’s prose, which is charmingly riddled with typos, is intensely conversational and gives the collection a distinctive voice. It’s a warm and homey mishmash of crafts, recipes and Newfoundland radical history… oh, and a little something about sloths. Thirty Hour Sloth looks and reads like a scrapbook full of school projects, journal entries and random memories. So long as you’re not looking for an overarching theme, you’ll be fine. Even Wayward’s slightly disconcerting fixation with fermented food and drink should not keep the mild-mannered reader from being absorbed in her earthy, funny, useful little zine.
2–Traveller’s tales can get a little tedious, but not when the stories are as harrowing as Sarah Wayward’s. While the first issue of Thirty Hour Sloth was all about homespun DIY, its sequel is a window into the transient punk lifestyle. Wayward and her friends decided to hitchhike across Europe, staying in squats, hopping train turnstiles and dumpster diving for food. The people she meets, the places she sees and the things she experiences are miles from the picture many of us in North America have of life across the Pond. Wayward herself is always an interesting character: a crafty punk who’s afraid of big cities and doesn’t like drugs all that much. She gives a breezy account of what will seem to the more sedentary reader to be a truly terrifying journey through Europe’s underground and back alleys. Even if it’s a journey you would never take yourself, you should definitely read the tale. You won’t regret it, and you’re unlikely to forget it. (J. Blackmore)
Zine, Sarah Wayward, issues 1 & 2, Sarah Wayward, PO Box 31224, Halifax NS, B3K 5Y1 [email protected]