The Reverse Cougar Years #3
Maxx
arevolutionofwords@gmail.com
I confess – I picked this up because of the title. Do you blame me? I did a quick look through enough to guess it was a perzine, but “Reverse Cougar”? That’s a name I wish I’d thought of. The funny thing is that I wrote that note << before I read anything, so I laughed out loud when the zine started off with an explanation of the title.
Along with the explanation of the title, Maxx also starts off by writing about, well, not writing.
“I stopped writing zines because I was told it was selfish to want to share my thoughts, for no other reason than the fact I enjoyed telling stories.”
The Reverse Cougar is a zine that hooked me in straight away with emotion. I laughed because of the title, and then I felt so incredibly frustrated reading the quote above. All the time Maxx had lost due to idiots saying idiotic things! But on that same note, I felt happy and celebrated this zine as Maxx’s return to creating.
Plenty of feels to feel here!
The first parts are about Maxx's career as a female sound technician, something I can honestly say I knew absolutely nothing about. That's what made it doubly interesting for me because not only did I not know about the job but I thus didn't know about the difficulties that came with being a female in the world of sound technicians, either.
In the second half, Maxx writes about anxiety, and the feels were strong for me in this one, too. I identify so much with being on the floor crying uncontrollably. I really loved how Maxx handled the 'then' and 'now' views of things. Maxx does a good job of summing up with enough info but not lingering too long. Everything keeps moving along.
Even more, I loved how Maxx’s writing on anxiety expanded out into a sad but beautiful examination of the end of a relationship as well as different responses to mental illness.
The Reverse Cougar took me to a lot of different, interesting places. It ends on such a sad note, but it's a strong note as well. I’m looking forward to reading other issues.
