They say “never judge a book by its cover”, but with a zine like The Volcano #3 (a subversive dyke reader), how could I not? Someone with a contagious grin covered in nothing but plentiful fruits and vegetables captured my attention, calling me in like a siren to read more!
The five different fonts used on the cover of this zine are a good indicator of what lies within. The Volcano is an eclectic selection of written and visual works addressing a wide variety of topics. From the editor’s updates on adjusting to the San Francisco dyke scene, to tantalizing, gender-fuckery erotica, to a yeast infection treatment guide, The Volcano has it all. Poetry? The Volcano has it. A book review? The Volcano has it. A reflection on working with queer homeless youth? The Volcano has it – a true one-stop-shop for anything you could ever need! This is what makes The Volcano so wonderful, in my opinion. Like its namesake might suggest, this zine explodes in your face! Reading it, I found my full spectrum of emotions erupting forth.
Boys Will Be Boys by Jocelyn Johnson is unlike anything I’ve read before. The story begins at a drag party, and the main character, a drag king by the name of jack, takes us with them as they explore. After taking in the crowd and having a drink, they step out into the backyard, where they encounter an intense, mysterious stranger in the shadows. The spontaneity, the tension, the gender! And oh, when – well… I don’t want to spoil it for you, now, do I? Give it a read for yourself, and I promise it’ll leave you on the edge of your seat wanting more!
Riding hot off the tails of Boys will be Boys is The Volcano Manifesto. The editors at The Volcano boldly declare their values and political stances, and as a reader, it’s comforting to see. There’s something refreshing about it – while reading the zine, I have the comfort of knowing what the editors believe in, and knowing that the people who put the thing together are on my side. The manifesto is perfect – loud, to-the-point, and unapologetic.
On the informative side, we have Girl, Ya Got the Yeasties! by Kristin Redmon. If you’ve ever had a yeast infection, you’ll know exactly the kind of hell that is to deal with. As someone who just happens to get frequent UTIs and has had the occasional yeast infection, it’s easy to feel gross or unhygienic for something I can’t control. Reading someone else’s experience with the very same thing feels really good; it helps me to feel normal, to feel seen. In addition to feeling seen about having infections in general, it’s cathartic to hear someone else criticize the same old shit I’ve had to put up with. Buying “feminine” care products while being visibly queer, trying to find the stuff you need in the pharmacy to begin with, the cost (and theft prevention measures) keeping treatments out of peoples hands, and the lack of helpful information out there – it’s all incredibly real, and incredibly frustrating!
Redmon shares what foods to avoid if you feel a yeast infection coming on, things that tend to trigger infections, at-home remedies, and prevention methods. Everything is written super accessibly, and reads like advice from one friend to another. And it’s funny, too, which definitely lightens the mood!
I also found myself enjoying the selection of poems included in this issue. Since reading it, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Be The Bomb You Throw by Irene Snyder of the Lesbian Avengers.
I work at a music venue, and my most recent shift was a Country show. I don’t want to generalize – There’s some Country I enjoy, and I have a huge appreciation for American folk, and Country’s roots in Gospel and European Folk music is incredibly interesting, but there is no denying the nationalist propaganda tool that Country music has become, and there’s no denying the crowd that it pulls in. Standing there, in a sea of people, I felt something strange and heavy inside of me when the singer praised the United States, and the crowd chanted “U! S! A!” along with him. I felt that discomfort grow as the singer proclaimed that we live in the greatest country that has ever been. I felt my stomach sink as the singer thanked all of the police officers in the country, and the crowd cheered louder than I had heard all night.
Worse than the singer’s words was the cheering crowd. The knowledge of what the people around me might feel about me, and those I love, was upsetting. In that moment, this poem came to mind. Similarly to Girl, Ya Got the Yeasties!, feeling like your experience is seen and felt by others is empowering. Standing in a room full of people whose world does not include me, whose visions for the country necessitate my conversion, I hold dear to me the experiences of others.
Right now, it’s important to remember that we have each other, and that there are so many people with similar thoughts, feelings, and ways of life to us. In the face of a world against us, we can take a page out of The Volcano’s book, and boldly be ourselves, and speak our minds, uncensored and unrestrained!
Rowan (He/it/they) is an intern at QZAP in spring of 2026, focusing on Zine of the Gay posts specifically. He is completing his final semester at the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design, and is a sculptor, zinester, and library lover. In their free time, Rowan likes to read, play puzzles and word games, and care for its concerning number of houseplants.
