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Category: Promos




Four Chambers 04 is set to release Fall, 2016. 

We know we’ve said this before (over and over), but we’ll say it again:

We’re here to build community, to give greater visibility to the literary arts and encourage their larger participation in the cultural scene. We’re a heart — something centralized, organic, part of a larger body, that connects, supports, and circulates life. We love literature.

We would love a chance to read your work.

New Deadline is Saturday, April 30th, 2016.



I hate running. It’s the absolute worst – it makes me sweat and gasp for breath and I’m NEVER fast enough. People who run for fun, or sport, or to “feel good” or whatever – I will never understand you. Unfortunately, I have significant experience in running, not because I ever wanted to, mind you, but because I have been in so many situations where I’ve had to catch something.

The first time I realized how much I hate running was one of the thousands of times I was late for the bus to school. The bus stop was right down the street from my house, and the bus driver was always tickled by any chance she got to drive right past me as I stood yelling at the end of my driveway – shoes untied, hair un-brushed, completed homework still sitting on the coffee table.

This particular time, I was determined not to give her this satisfaction. So, in my usual late-and-pissed-off state, I bolted down my driveway, (which was a large and steep dirt hill, by the way), but didn’t make it all the way down without eating some dirt, of course. I had to have fallen at least three times on the way down the street – never successfully completing a perfect somersault however hard I tried – eyes focused on the idle bus at the corner, daring it to drive past me now.

My classmates clapped wildly as I made my way to my usual spot in the back, which was both mean and funny of them.

I know that it’s not fair to blame the act of running for my lateness and untied shoes. However, I’ve had plenty of unpleasant running experiences while my shoes were tied. I chased my dog Tillie when she ran away about once a month, and pages 13-48 of my script for Our Town when I was a senior in high school and FINALLY got the lead in the spring play. I chased a few baseballs when they were hit toward my post in left field, and when there weren’t any baseballs to catch, I was being chased by lots and lots of mosquitoes.
Most of my attempts to catch things by running after them were unsuccessful.

So I’d like to use this time to inform all of you that I have given up running.

I’d also like to inform all of you of our Literary Flash Mob this Saturday, September 13!

Read more »



The first time I read Tim O’ Donnell’s Lake Gut, I turned my head to the side, made a serious bleugh sound, pretended to throw up and said things like ‘dude,’ ‘gnarly,’ and ‘gross’. It was awesome.

In spirit, Lake Gut is what happens when you take two quintessential features of puberty–eating gross things in front of people for money + sex–and make some kind of hideous literary sandwich. There’s no summarizing it. Not only does saying anything about it give something away–and there are so many things to give away–but Tim’s prose is filled with a rich and quiet poetics that synopsis simply doesn’t do justice. As Chuck, uhm, ‘consummates’ with Holly, for example,

He grunted, froze, let a warm wisp in Holly’s ear.

“Awesome,” he gurgled.

Almost unnoticed, it’s these kind of descriptions–these transformations almost, this vision–that take something merely textual and turns it into real world. And for better or for worse, Tim’s world is framed with awkwardness, confusion, misinformation, undue influence from pornography, and vomit. God help us if it rings true.

To read the first few pages of Tim O’Donnell’s Lake Gut, click here.

To order Four Chambers 01, click here.



In the first of our forthcoming efforts to less shamefully promote Four Chambers 01 (Dec 2013), we are proud to release “single dashed for passing, we took pisses…” by Matthew Bisenius. Not only was Matt kind enough to explain certain deeply buried references to erstwhile jazz musicians we never would have gotten, he also provided a picture of the road wherein it took place and an audio version of the poem (with guitar) to boot.

Bleak, stark, a New England Gothic, “single dashed for passing, we took pisses” brought back every petty, pointless act of vandalism we ever committed as pre- and post-pubescents growing up in relatively quiet, isolated areas. We always felt such longing, so separate, so excluded from things. The wind was always cold. We were always missing. Even identifying with nature  only made us more alienated. Boys are drawn to setting fires the way moths are drawn to flames. We, too, were ultimately disappointed.

To read “single dashed for passing, we took pisses…” by Matthew Bisenius, click here.

To order Four Chambers 01, click here.