A few months ago, I started giving away zines1.
They are small: 8 pages that come out of a single A4 sheet. No staples, no glue. Just a cut in the center and some folds I learned watching TikTok. Inside: my photos, some text, a minimal story.
I give them to my friends. To my family. To coworkers who probably weren't expecting to receive a handmade little book on a random Tuesday.
And there is something about that, in the gesture of handing over something physical, something you made yourself, that no digital file can replicate.
The invisible friction
This ritual had a part I didn't enjoy so much: the layout.
Every time it was the same: open the program, choose the 8 photos, arrange them in the grid (which is never intuitive because the order of the printed pages is weird), add text, export, done.
It wasn't hard. But it was tedious and, over time, the ritual began to erode.
I realized that what I really wanted was to get to the cutting and folding faster. The part where the sheet stops being a sheet and becomes a book.
The app I didn't plan
I didn't sit down to "build a product." I just opened Claude Code with Opus 4.6 and explained what I needed.
An hour later I had a prototype. Functional. I could upload photos, arrange them, export the PDF. The first iteration was already usable. That was what surprised me the most.
There were no weeks of development, no frustration searching for documentation, nor that exhausting cycle of try-fail-google-retry. Just a conversation. An hour. And something that works.
But the prototype was just the beginning. I went back to Claude several more times: first to add text to the pages, then to include cut and fold guides in the PDF.
Each session was equally fluid: describe, see, adjust.
And then I shared the project on a photographers' forum. The idea was well received. Zines, as a way to show your work, to give something tangible, resonated with people who share that same passion for the image. I started receiving feedback. Suggestions. Questions. The app stopped being just mine.
There is something about sharing a passion that makes you feel part of something bigger. It's not just a tool: it's a meeting point. And that's why I'll keep investing time in improving it.
What is technology for (?)
Sometimes I think we are mistaken in how we measure tools.
It's not about how many things they can do. It's about how much time they give you back to do the things that matter.
The distance between "I have an idea" and "I have something that works" has shortened absurdly. Before, a project like this would have taken weeks, if not months. Now it was a one-hour conversation.
Best of all, I can go back to what I really enjoy: the cutting, the folding, the moment where the sheet becomes a book and the book becomes a gift.
Thanks for reading, Wil
You can create your own zine at fanzines.app
According to Google: A fanzine (from English fan and magazine) is a thematic, independent, and self-published publication by enthusiasts, which follows the "do it yourself" (DIY) philosophy.↩