A series of four mini zines, one for each season. These are sad, spare, and compelling. The autobiographical bits draw you in – a bus ride, a shopping spree that turns into an encounter with a panhandler. The on-going series of Dream Girls is shy and geeky, makes you long for random encounters, first loves, and days that go nowhere. “I made her a moccachino with sloppy whip cream. She smiled, and slipped out of sight. She made the day okay.” Old high school friends keep popping up as Adam slips into nostalgic semi-bemused recollections of the suburban life he had before he got his own place in the city. This is a zine series about change happening slower than you think, a zine about emerging into some kind of new season and seeking meaning that is not apparent in trees dropping leaves or sprouting new buds. “She told me that the world she thought she knew so well fell apart when she left the confinements of her parents’ home… One year has passed and she’s back to living with her Mom… I am in the same situation she was one year ago: out in the real world for the first time… I finished high school less than a month ago, and already things have dramatically changed.” Four zines come in a neat paper bag package, as if you were going to take them to school or work instead of lunch. In fact, that’s probably not a bad idea: Adam’s zine is a pause, a time-out from the everyday. Less of a rumination and more of a reflection, this is the work of a promising young writer, the tale of a horny young man, the familiar story of lost generations who aren’t quite sure they want – or need – to be found. (Hal Niedzviecki)