'Sock Monkey I' is ready to launch! 

Join us at the unveiling of the White Rock Zine Machine, featuring a reading from its inaugural heat of 12 zines. Bring your quarters and rediscover the glee of those purveyors of delight, the bubble gum and baseball card and bouncy ball vending machines of yore, updated with a literary twist. 

Contributing poets and zine makers are members of Cloudwerks Poetry Workshop. They are:

Lisa Huffaker
Christopher Soden
Dan Collins
Tim Cloward
Michael Puttonen
Fran Carris
Logen Cure
Tamitha Curiel
Robin Turner
Valerie Crowe
Paul Koniecki

White Rock Zine Machine is a project started by Lisa Huffaker, who has long been scheming to transform vending machines to sell poetry and artzines by local creatives.  Its name is inspired by White Rock Lake, a nucleus of beauty and community in Dallas.  The project began with three used baseball card vending machines she bought on Craigslist; now the first, named “Sock Monkey I” after the eponymous jack-in-the-box bolted to its lid, is transformed into an art object in its own right, and filled with zines made by members of Cloudwerks Poetry Workshop.  It will be launched with a special reading at Deep Vellum Books.  A second machine will be transformed and filled with zines at an upcoming Zine Camp at Oil and Cotton, an art studio in Oak Cliff.  The experience of buying the zines is meant to evoke the magical experience of buying a gumball as a child:  drop a quarter (yes, a mere quarter!) into the slot, turn the knob, and operate a machine that translates desire to fulfillment.  What if people could activate the same little mechanism, only now, instead of getting a sugary piece of rubber that goes stale in minutes, out pops a unique, enduring little book of art or poetry?  The promise of that childhood transaction could come true, only better than ever.  At 25 cents, the zines are nearly free; however, the quarter and the turning of the knob involve people in a thought experiment: what if marvelous windfalls can be triggered by seemingly trivial actions?  What if profound rewards await our small investments?  What if a whimsical machine can bring creators and appreciators together, to realize that the world might actually be better than we thought?