Indiscreet is perfectly distilled: it takes the finer elements and purer ingredients from the author’s own diary and curates them into a lovely, grown-up zine. Kun manages, somehow, to segue from a dark meta-tale about her Hungarian-Romanian grandmother’s relationship with her war-ravaged childhood to step-by-step instructions for entering the sex trade. The zine’s highlight is a selection of notes from a 72-hour Greyhound bus marathon that Kun endured from Vancouver to Hamilton. It’s full of sweet, sensitive, nail-on-the-head anthropology and is backdropped with a collage of road maps. Indiscreet is what happens when an author really knows how to read her own journal: it is an acutely self-conscious, meticulously well- groomed autobiography. It is also a zine at the peak of zine evolution, with a perfect balance of slapdash prose, careful poetry, and understated cut-n-paste visuals. (Anna Bowness)

Krisztina Kun, 72 pgs., $5 (includes postage) or trade,


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