DISPATCH: Test Literary Series (The Whistler, Logan Square), a Monthly Reading with Feedback on the Spot

Inside Test, where Chicago writers bring work that isn’t finished yet.

Clockwise from top left: Nick Kirwen (host), Ruby Anne, Nora Blake, & Adam Kaz

Whether you’re a film buff, an aspiring magician, a stand-up comic, or a literary enthusiast, there’s always something happening in Chicago. Often within walking distance from your home.

On one cold Wednesday night in February, for example, I had the difficult decision of choosing between two monthly readings, both of which were one mile from my apartment.

One, called Test, started at 6:30pm and featured three readers (Adam Kaz, Ruby Ann, and Nora Blake). The other, called Comportment, started at 8:30pm and featured four readers (Kelly Hoffer, Elise Houcek, Sara Wainscott, and Stephen Williams). Younger me might’ve attempted to attend both. A double feature. A three mile triangle from my apartment to one venue, to another, and back home before 11:00pm. But, alas, I only chose one. The earlier option. I blame my day job. I blame my knees. Did I mention it was a Wednesday?

Test, a well-established reading event at Logan Square’s The Whistler, comes complete with on-the-spot feedback. It’s a monthly series (the second Wednesday of the month) that’s been active since late 2018. Despite having different hosts coming and going, the reading series has maintained. Unlike most other readings in the city, this one does not suggest you read your greatest hits or your most confident pieces, but instead, readers are encouraged to share their unpolished, their unfinished, their work in need of help.

On my mile walk to the reading, I passed a dead pigeon, an underpass, a skate park, three book nooks, some graffiti that read, “Love your neighbor because your president won’t,” four boarded up restaurants, three recently opened restaurants, a yard that still had both its Christmas lights and a skeleton on display, a barbershop, a paint shop, three gas stations, two dispensaries, two pizza spots (one featured in FX’s The Bear), a Taco Bell Cantina, a fine dining establishment with valet, a soccer field, and a library.

All of these sights were soundtracked by my loyal iPod Touch, one that has been in Airplane Mode for nearly a decade. A time capsule I use to shuffle the outdated music library on my walks. Artists featured on this walk included: Smino, Bassekou Kouyate, Reefer, Beach House, Blundetto, Tinariwen, Blue Sky Black Death, Spooky Mansion, Leslie Marie, and The Weeknd.

When I arrived at The Whistler, the first thing I did was order two Two Hearted Ales. I call it Four Hearts in my head but I never say this out loud. No one needs to know this but me and you. With hip-hop blasting through the venue speakers before the host took the stage, and with live jazz to follow the reading, it’s safe to say The Whistler is a hotspot of multimedia art and a hub for creatives throughout Chicago looking for a place to call home once or twice a month. UGK and Mike Jones on blast before poetry, prose, and fusion jazz? With a memorable red curtain as the venue’s backdrop? It was as if the ghost of Lynch was with us every step of the way. Drinking his coffee, wearing his shades.

Along with the readers and the host, the audience was full of familiar names and faces in the community. Like Matt McCarthy, editor and publisher of Milwaukee Avenue Messenger. Like married couple Michelle and Philip, the co-hosts of generative writing workshop Concentrating Chaos. Like Satori and Phoebe Nerem, both Test alums, both poets, and both frequenters of Logan Square readings (Written on a Napkin, Sabr Tooth Tiger Magazine, Raging Opossum Press).

While Test has two active hosts, Nick Kirwen and Zach Kocanda, only Nick was in attendance on this particular night. He greeted the crowd, explained the format, and got things rolling.

“Test is an expression of gratitude to this pocket of the Chicago writing community,” Nick told me after the reading. “Any writer knows how draining or frustrating the process can be. I hope Test breaks down the doubt and anxieties of a challenging project.”

The first reader was Adam Kaz, EIC of journal The Ground is Uneven and a staff critic for Third Coast Review.

He read a comedic short story called “The Professor Explains” about a college senior who crashed an academic dinner party. I laughed out loud at one point when the recently divorced narrator claimed, “I was beginning to miss my wife.” Out of context, you’re right, it’s not funny, so I guess you had to be there and/or I guess you have to read the story. Hopefully it’ll be published soon. It felt nearly finished. Ready to go. I told Adam later that it reminded me of a dark sitcom or a scene from a Noah Baumbach film.

Throughout the evening, there were murmurs of tarot and whispers of kimchi. I went up to the bar. Three brave souls ordered three shots of Malört. God bless ‘em. The beers had warmed me up. At one point, perhaps to express the lack of pretentiousness in the room, I wrote in my notepad, “No one here has a pen with a feather.”

Doodle during intermission

The second reader was Ruby Ann, a multidisciplinary artist (and a finalist for the 2025 Ploughshares Emerging Writers Award as well as an attendee of the 2025 Tin House Workshop). She is an art editor at Sabr Tooth Tiger Magazine with a column on perfume in Dirty Magazine. Although she is hard at work on a book of essays, she decided to use her time at Test to read some poems. Poems that were, as she said, “very in progress.” Ekphrastic poems about call girls and perfume, showgirls and time. “I am the color of sick,” she read at one point, later mentioning ten grand in cash smuggled through customs in a lavender bottle. I was hooked. Her work reminded me slightly of Anna Biller, the writer/director of films The Love Witch and Viva, as well as the author of the novel Bluebeard’s Castle. High praise.

As the night progressed, the host announced a short break before we heard from the final reader. It was during this break I heard words like “collaborative.” I heard words like “community.” Gratitude, kindness, warmth. All of these accurately describe the consistent and welcoming atmosphere of Test.

“Turns out,” co-host Nick added, “your harshest critic is yourself. Test gives folks the opportunity to get constructive feedback without the high stakes of a finished piece. We want the experimental stuff being held together by shoestrings. Let’s revel in the mess together. ”

The third and final reader for the night was Nora Blake, a writer, critic, podcaster, tabletop game designer, and poet. She read a short story that was “a little bit about suicide and a little bit about God.” The story involved a narrator throwing their phone in the trash and entering an art gallery, where they touched a painting, had odd interactions with the security, detailed the exhibit, questioned their existence, questioned religion, and much more. Inspired by a trip to the Milwaukee Art Museum, it was captivating to hear the written word detailing visual art. Art inspiring art.

And I, myself, writing this all down, grateful to be a small sliver of Chicago’s bustling literary scene, consider now how these very words might be art inspired by art inspired by art. Is this art? You decide.