Five people stand shoulder-to-shoulder holding an event poster.

The Revolution Will Be Photocopied: Get Ready for Grid Zine Fest 2025

Arts

Oh, what a time it is to be a creative person in this oppressive, flag-banning city of ours. Talented people are fighting to maintain safe, affordable spaces for underground art, and Grid Zine Fest is leading the way. A hub for the raw, unfiltered, punk-as-fuck world of DIY publishing, this year’s fest is breaking its own records — more exhibitors than ever, a venue upgrade at Church & State and a surge in demand that’s forcing organizers to rethink how to keep it accessible for up-and-coming zinesters. Zine culture is all about kicking back at the system, so it’s comforting to know that our historic means of passing along creative “fuck yous” to society are in good hands. 

Since its inception in 2017, Grid Zine Fest has always been a free-for-all. No gatekeeping, no bullshit, just first-come, first-serve sign-ups and an open door to anyone who wanted to be a part of it. But this year, that system was stress-tested. When tabler sign-ups opened this year, they filled up in just two days, leaving longtime zinesters on a waitlist for the first time.

“The fact that longtime tablers didn’t get a spot this year? That’s never happened before,” says Ricky Vigil, a longtime zine artist and one of Grid Zine Fest’s organizers. “It’s wild to see the demand.”

At the same time, first-time exhibitors make up over half of the tables this year, which means the scene is expanding with fresh voices. That’s a beautiful thing — but it’s forcing a big question: How do you keep a zine fest as open as possible when demand is outpacing space?

“Self-publishing is radical and beautiful.

“We had to have the conversation: Do we keep it open to everyone, or start selecting tablers?” says Donna Ramone, another lifelong zine artist, organizer and contributor for the popular nonprofit DIY zine Razorcake. “The idea of judging zine makers makes me sick.”

But Grid Zine Fest isn’t just a once-a-year event — it’s a year-round movement keeping SLC’s zine culture thriving. With the launch of a monthly comic club, craft swaps and pop-up zine markets, they’re giving both seasoned artists and total newcomers more chances to get involved, experiment and share their voices. And with more people jumping into the scene, SLC’s zine community is more diverse and intersectional than ever — spanning punk, activism, spirituality, queer perspectives and much more. 

“A bunch of people showed up to the craft swap and left with bags full of supplies — people who had never made a zine before were walking away saying, ‘I think I’m going to try this,’” says Bonnie Cooper, an organizer, zine artist and a mother of a one-year-old zine artist. “That’s what makes it so exciting — this isn’t just for established artists. It’s for anyone who wants to create.” 

Yes! People are still putting this shit together. You oldheads who used to hit up Kinko’s to crank out 50-100 copies before trading them at Speedway Cafe should be grateful this generation is keeping it alive.

In a world where corporate publishing hags, oligarchic Musk/Zuckerberg-controlled algorithms and maybe a paywall for my fellow broke “spirited” people, zines remain the ultimate loophole. It’s a home for stories that may not fit anywhere else, especially in the Beehive State. 

There’s no rules, no editors, no approval needed — just a left-handed crayon, paper, a copier, a few staples and your uncut voice. Just real people making real shit. “Choosing creativity in the face of everything that doesn’t foster it is an act of liberation,” says Ramone. “Self-publishing is radical and beautiful.

There’s no pressure to spend big money, or even bring money at all. Just show up, trade, talk, smell the scent of Sharpies birthing original stories and take it all in. 

“If I bring 20 bucks, will I be able to buy anything? Yeah, you’ll probably be able to buy quite a few things,” says Cooper. “Zines are anywhere from free or $1 to $10. Sometimes there are larger publications, but for the most part, it’s very accessible.” Most of the people tabling aren’t trying to make a living off this — they’re here to share something real.

“It’s not the same pressure as going to a craft fair where you’re expected to drop hundreds of dollars,” says Vigil. “This isn’t about making money — it’s about community.” Whether you walk out with a zine, a friend, a hot dog (hopefully branded as “zieners”) or just some inspiration — you’re part of the scene the second you step inside.

Grid Zine Fest takes place on Saturday, March 29 from 11:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. at Church & State in Salt Lake City. The event is free to attend and open to everyone — no ticket needed, no expectations, just a cool, safe place to connect with other cool people.

Want to support beyond attending? If you remember Speedway Cafe, you’re old enough to have a real job now. Maybe skip one $18 lemon drop at Lake Effect and put that cash where it matters. Yes, you! “If you have a zine, bring it. If you don’t, just come see what it’s all about,” says Vigil. 

Be there. Be loud. Be proud. Be part of it.

Disclaimer: Hot dogs are most likely not going to be in attendance. Bummer. But I am trademarking Zieners™ and opening a zine-themed hot dog café. The menu? Black ink buns, risograph relish and a staple-bound dog. Investors can reach me via Venmo @gridzinefest.

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