CHAMBERS OF HORRORS: THE UNSAVORY SCOOP

I was asked at a recent, impromptu literary event why Chambers of Horrors, a fiction/essay fanzine I financed in the early '90s, never went beyond one issue. Was it due to a lack of interest and/or funds? I explained the matter to those gathered and now offer the unsavory scoop to my "bizarrechats" readers: one that holds a valuable lesson.

At first I was reluctant to embark on Chambers. I wished to dabble further on my Magical, Literary Elixirs (a title that spotlighted my experimental fiction), but I met this fellow at the college where I worked, and he claimed that if we teamed, we could gain greater exposure with a Fangoria variant than I could ever by publishing my meager self-indulgences.  

I agreed to the endeavor, and soon thereafter another individual was enlisted to help with the production. He had worked on my literary elixirs and ended up supplying ample illustrations for the new periodical (for which I'm most grateful), but he wasn't keen on the Chambers concept or its promotion. (In retrospect, I can't say I blame him.)

Even with the evident lack of enthusiasm and doubt (and the fact that the initial partner did not shell out one dime toward the project), the president of the Small Press Writers of America contacted me with a short story by an author she believed would suit our title. It was in the style of Clive Barker's "The Yattering and Jack".  I loved the story, but my censorious partners called it "pornographic" and urged against its acceptance. (The story had some harsh, sexual sprinklings, but no more so than Barker's bolder tales. Besides, Chambers wasn't meant for the kids or prudes.)

I should have gone on instinct and ignored their advice, for by rejecting the story, I caused a rift with the once supportive small-press honcho. She was none too pleased with Chambers' ultimate content, and it's obvious why.  (I understand her stance, but she could've been more respectful regarding what did emerge. Her lack of professionalism still irks me.) 

As such, Chambers died on the bloody vine, hampered by a lack of promotion and praise. I passed the title over to my college pal who thought he could do better, but for the record, never produced a follow-up. 

I continued with a second volume of Elixirs, but was discouraged by the second partner to proceed with a third, since he dismissed my additional stories as substandard. I embraced the denouncement, thus causing my homespun, literary aspirations to crash and burn. 

It should be noted that one those trampled "literary elixirs" (which just as well could have worked as a "Chambers" tale) has risen from the grave. The concept will appear in an upcoming, Airship 27 Productions, New Pulp volume. How 'bout that?

The lesson: With any project, listen to your gut. If your decisions aren't the greatest, so be it. Take charge on all fronts, and don't be afraid to face regret or plaster your face on your failures. When it comes to your wins, plaster 'em even more. That's the only way you'll succeed.

Too bad and no surprise that Chambers did not.