<about wood coin>
Beware of hijackers who want this artillery...
"Original and quality magazine.
Visual art & text (c) 2008-2020 Wood Coin.
Images on Welcoming pages (c) 1981 Joe Ruggiero, Found Objects, as found and permanently borrowed from the Santa Fe library.
Rights revert to the writer or artist upon publication.
Creator Designer Editor Publisher: James K Beach.
For those of you eager to delve in, without further ado, here are links to the three sides of this coin:
Inspired by the concept of a wooden nickle, Wood Coin Magazine was launched in poverty to provide visibility upon a virtual platform for unknown or overlooked or blackballed or otherwise shadowed artists. Several contributors are quite rich, others almost there, while the majority reside in the middle class, and a few await or awaited salvaging via money... For me as publisher, poverty went abject then bounced up and back down... it keeps moving subtly yet growth has yet to happen... (I've never grossed more than $25K per year...) until... who knows? For me, a person's wealth matters less than his or her intergrity and intelligence and ability to create solid and vital art.
As a credit token the publication aspires to call attention with its unique design and invasive editing (more on this topic below). Also important to consider while reading this magazine are possibilities of multiple meanings and interpretations of terms, to include double-entendre, pun, allegory, command or joke, plus verbs or nouns or adjectives to be read in any direction; "coin" for example is a noun or a verb or an adjective, while "wood" stands for tree-product or small-forest or eupemistically a hard-on, and even could be substituted phonetically for "would"... And add in the cropping of words, such as "woo" or "in"... or, reinterpretation of words such as "co-in (as in COINTELPRO, the Jane Fonda and CIA fiasco of the 1970s)"... Lest anyone forget that the Olde English term for "crazy" was "wood," or that prison or gang slang turns "wood" into "white"... The depth of language! My 36 twisty issue titles are built for mind-teasing. But dear reader, everything else in this magazine can easily be looked at as wholly on the surface and consistently correct regarding English grammar. Excepting variation per writer's style, Wood Coin is uniform regarding style.
This word-puzzle has literary and figurative edges. To put it together please roam the site and consider the measure and pith of each piece. Getting "lost" while reading is a pleasure sometimes; when flummoxed try using the "back" button on your browser. A note on the PDFs: To avoid malware (however embedded) on any PDF anywhere, you might want to adjust your browser settings to open, rather than download, documents. Or simply verify that your PDF reader is updated if you believe common software to be a step ahead of hackers and therefore trustworthy.
As of today, March 5, 2020, it has come to my attention, via an email in my personal box, that WHOIS has commandeered my orginal, soul-driven attempt at sharing my voice and art with a phony "1970 archive" of Wood Coin Magazine, as registered to "-"... Yuck. I despise plagiarists and art thieves! It seems a cult or org is stealing my life's work, or is in the process maybe; or, it is a rouse to instill fear, panic, doubt, etc. within me-- alongside the insides of many believers in wearing one's heart upon one's figurative or literal garments.
Here is where, then, I can detail a few instances with Carol Bergé, my mentor, who hired me in September 2005 as "editor"--a term she herself advertised in local print papers' help wanted sections, to include the cities of Santa Fe, NM and New York, NY; since I was on unemployment insurance at the time, Carol's ads caught my instant attention during those required weekly job applications. She chose me as her personal editor from "over 70 applicants," as she put it during my interview. In retrospect, Carol instantly thought I had what it might take to generate interest in her as well as push my own creative agenda, because she chose me almost on sight. A link on the Contributors page leads to my memoir about her, as published in Warhol Stars by a kind gentleman who not only knew I was unknown and unaffiliated with Warhol, but prided me on it, ostensibly because I got the story right. (Carol Bergé was a leftover, a forgotten poet on the shelf, when I met her, and her foibles were widely known in town and in Manhattan at the time; I loved her anyway, although I nearly quit her when she told me that I needed money to combat whatever forces had been holding her down. That, and the "chicken lady" and Kentucky Fried fame plus Wendy's potato fame too were a detriment! She drank Folgers coffee or Swanson's chicken broth with her fast food, for the curious. She also forbade scents like cigarette smoke--I was a nonsmoker then-- or perfume, due to her breathing, for the curiouser. The most curious will wanna know Carol confided in me that she never paid any taxes; the IRS maybe was fooling with her? After her advice I got square, after several years of freelance income nonpayment of tax, although maybe the IRS is messing with me anyway? Anyway, I did debate quitting but, part-time at $25 an hour, or $15 an hour for nonediting hours where I acted as a sitter, was good money; besides, as a grown 33-year-old "alternative youth" from stifling suburban midwest middle-class, the topics of her writing fascinated me. I'd always esteemed the beat poets and aspired to continue where they left off--as a virgin with only solo sex experience until age 18, my appreciation of what the beats intended was profound! Carol was a different person entirely, having enjoyed quite a sophisticated and wealthy lifestyle from birth. Sure, she lived a high life, but the NY Times disgraced her publically in 1984, re her third published novel being dismissed as a first attempt, plus rumors about her "derrida"-type fiction surfaced, and her career was cut short, possibly due to the "pleasure-smashing" est cult she joined to stay alive. I learned all of this quickly, as I immersed myself in her writing. Of course I kept the job, anticipating great things if I could only push past the garbage... Enough, for here. More can be found on the Contact page.)
As for the hijacking: My "mistakes" were prognosticated, and self-mocked, with one character error on each heading of the now-defunct Editor's Note pages starting with the seminal issue; but, reinserted first-draft or concocted foreign-to-me errors popped up-- a several few instances of page code "hacking" I've found on this site are irksome too. The invisible and silent alterations can be attributed to mind-fucks wearing white or black or tan or whatever hat colors; inexplicable auto-merges of docs; writer editor proofreader errors; webhost glitches; uploading of issues issues. Points of entry include everywhere from site host to public internet to phone or personal computer, with even a few weeks of VPNs which got quickly hacked. You will see a handful of pages noted with what "they" did to the text, for whatever reason, but for the most part I simply deleted the bad coding or replaced corrupted text without making a comment. (One thing I cannot understand is how the font size keeps changing on certain pages; it started with the Hugh Fox novella and has spread to other pages, to include my own fiction! The html style coding is exacly the same on every page, which might suggest hidden white-text coding... Yikes.) It's easy now to understand why expert website maintainers get paid such large sums! The vandalizing or "gouda-cheesing" of sites was commonplace in the 1990s, and it still exists, as I've discovered while shaping this labor of love. (Are "they" merely trying to fill the voids in their souls? See: dissertations on the benefit of "seedpod people" being fodder for hungry cannibals-- they maybe taste like veggies but the supply is limitless? Rent all three Invasion of the Body Snatchers films for info to extrapolate.) (Bear in mind that I have depression, anxiety, paranoia, klazomania and delusions involving stalker celebrites in costumes and make-up and full-body disfiguring suits! Reverse-engineering from their 1950s crash led to the tech-craze of the 2000s and we should all be suspicious of tech for that reason, alongside the many novice or pro hackers all over our gadgets these days...) Fuck. I am a pauper, yet I persit in this missive. Meanwhile myself and the writers and artists in this lit mag received no monetary compensation for any of the contributions here...
For bios of artists, poets, writers included in Wood Coin, see the [contributors] list.
Visit the contact page for instruction on how to [submit] prose, verse, visual art to Wood Coin.
Because of my peripatetic nature, Wood Coin was put online in several areas in the United States...
Issues FFI (11/09) - WSSI (02/09): Santa Fe, NM.
Site was reconstituted (re-upped) 2013 and 2019-2020; Wood Coin's [history] will eventually include links to printable PDFs of full issues, as well as vintage pages, perhaps for sale if I can create a worthwhile PDF version of this magazine... As of now, Wood Coin Magazine is free to all and ad-free as well, as it's been since 2008.
*review quote: Cartwheels Collective, 2009