If, for some reason, you decide out of the blue that you only want to buy one more zine, ever, I have some advice for you. (Well, some advice and a very strange "WHY?!" look, but that's beside the point.) Subscribe to the East Village Inky. For eight bucks, you may just change your mind.

Subtitled, "The continuing adventures of a 34 year old mother and a three-thumbed 2 year old in New York City's East Village," this is a hand-drawn and -written quarter-sized (longfold) series that really is an adventure. And a joy.

Ayun Halliday's narrative is consistently homey and engaging -- like getting a long, detailed letter from a friend in the big city. She talks of the changes in her neighborhood -- stores opening and closing, the absence of drug dealers on her stoop -- all with her illustrations and sidenotes.

Actually, come to think about it, this is less like a letter to a friend than a really well-produced journal. One that draws you in so completely that you can almost smell the exhaust in the air and feel the subway rumbling underneath.

Also in this issue: a story about moving out of their 340-square-foot apartment, advice to fathers by a beatnik boho poet in a black leotard, a life in the laundry, permissive parenting, a tribute to Viola (a fellow mother who died on the playground one day), book and movie reviews, and a high horse illustrated rant on breastfeeding.

Let me make it more clear: Buy this zine. Creativity and excellence like this should be encouraged. Send $2 for one issue, $8 for a subscription or $10 for all back issues to date to Ayun Halliday, 406 E. 9th St. #7, New York City, NY 10009.

[ by Elizabeth Badurina ]