AQP in NYC!

AQP will be in New York City on January 26th at 4 pm. Celebrate the Wolf Moon with this amazing line-up!
Autumn McClintock is a freelance writer and editor living in Philadelphia. Poems of hers have appeared in The Account, Cimarron Review, Denver Quarterly, The Georgia Review, Permafrost, Sonora Review, THRUSH, and others. She is a staff reader for Ploughshares and Poetry Editor of Doubleback Review. Her collection, Dirt Bird, is coming soon from AQP. Find her online at autumnmcclintock.com.  

Anna Badkhen is the author of seven books, most recently the essay collection Bright Unbearable Reality, which was longlisted for the 2022 National Book Award. Her awards include the Guggenheim Fellowship, the Barry Lopez Visiting Writer in Ethics and Community Fellowship, and the Joel R. Seldin Award from Psychologists for Social Responsibility for writing about civilians in war zones. Her essays, dispatches, and short stories appear in periodicals such as the New York Review of Books, Granta, The Common, Scalawag, Harper’s, the Paris Review, and the New York Times. Badkhen was born in the Soviet Union and is a US citizen. Anna's website is annabadkhen.com and IG handle annabadkhen

Yew San Cheah is a writer from Hong Kong born 1999. He studied at the Iowa Young Writers’ Workshop and hosted a young writers’ Q & A session for the New York Times Asia Desk with AQ’s editor-in-chief. He assists with AQ events, including a curated art exhibit and workshop in Taos, NM. He attended Columbia University and is currently working on a personal essay about raves in an East Asian city.

Robbi Overbey is a writer of mostly short fiction. Her stories have appeared in Alexandria Quarterly, Sakura Review, Paris Lit Up, and Local Knowledge. The debut collection,  A Life Without Seasons and Other Stories, was published in 2016 by AQ Press. A second collection, Endlessly Small, which also includes poetry and plays, was published by AQ Press in 2022. Find Robbi at: robbioverbey.com and @endlesslysmall
Originating from France, Pauline Mornet has a background in writing and performance. Her writing has been published in Voiceworks, Island Magazine, Leon Literary Review, and her academic writing will soon be published in peer-reviewed Performance Research.

Daniel Kelley Vargas is a multi-disciplinary artist from Chicago, based in New York. As a photographer, designer, illustrator, video artist, and writer, Vargas focuses on exploring the boundaries of (and relationships between) various art forms. Typically made in the moment of inspiration with what's readily available, his work highlights a timeless artistic instinct to materialize his feelings with what's at his immediate disposal.

Ezra Weingartner (he/him/his) is a poet and makeup artist from Colorado, based in New York. Leaning into the therapy of writing, his work emphasizes observation before reflection. He often uses form or lack thereof to encourage readers to interact with his writing in a way that makes sense for them rather than asserting his own interpretation of a piece.  His IG handle is @sonicridersfan00

 

Part II of Merle Dillon's essay for the AQP How Did I Get Here Series

The next installment of Merle’s essay is now live. The aim of this series is to hear each other, to listen to the stories of strangers, to think about where they are and how they got there, and in doing so, form a kind of friendship from afar. “Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.” —Anais Nin

Let’s meet here, in Merle’s essay. Let’s hear the stories of her different loves—love of home; love of a sister, now passed; love for her daughter and for nature. Let’s hear her hope, her frustration, her self-searching. Let’s listen together. As Walt Whitman said, “We were together. I forget the rest.”

Part II can be found here.

A NEW ESSAY IN OUR HOW DID I GET HERE SERIES

We are proud to announce a new essay in our essay series, this time by writer and artist, Merle Dillon. Merle is facing big changes to the home that she loves, and we can hear in her essay an echo of Emily Dickinson: “How strange that nature does not knock, and yet does not intrude!” But there ARE indeed intruders here, of a more pervasive kind than Merle alone can conquer. I still have faith in her, though. And faith in the love of home, and the love of a world that does not need us, but still allows us in.

A new essay by Brit Washburn

We have a new essay up today as part of our How Did I Get Here? essay series. https://www.alexandriaquarterlymag.com/how-did-i-get-here-brit-washburn-part-i

This is a three-part essay that will be presented every Monday for the next three weeks, so stay tuned for Part II, which will appear on September 26th, and Part III, on October 3. By way of introduction, I’ll let R. Overbey (Endlessly Small, AQP) take it from here:

One needn’t know Brit Washburn personally to fully appreciate her work. Though I can tell you that the love, kindness, and beauty radiating from the writer’s words do also from the writer herself. As with much of her poetry, the essay here displays wisdom in a gentle embrace with curiosity—a youthful spirit moving with abandon, though already aware of its fragility.

So here is where we find her. Where are you yourself as you read this essay? Where are we all? Seeing the same sights, or perhaps the oblivious target on which the sights are set? Maybe neither. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Does anyone ever consider themselves worth envying? I’ll never know. But I can say that reading Brit’s work causes me to consider the love, kindness, and beauty that I myself am offering the world.

-R. Overbey

AQP 2022 FUNDRAISER

AQP started in 2014 as a literary magazine with four online issues and one print edition annually. Since then, we’ve published hundreds of poems from writers in thirteen countries and all over the United States. We have awarded several young poets and artists with the Carolyn Hall Young Emerging Artists & Writers Award from AQP and have been fortunate to publish twelve collections including chapbooks, art books, and a graphic novel.

Currently we are publishing a series on the theme “How Did I Get Here?” (Here is a link for the debut essay by Mifuelayo Michael Ojeifo, Part I: https://www.alexandriaquarterlymag.com/special-feature-an-essay-by-mifuelayo and Part II: https://www.alexandriaquarterlymag.com/how-did-i-get-here-michael-part-two. )

We have three upcoming titles in the works, and this summer we are planning to host some writing workshops in Colorado and New Jersey. AQP is a labor of love and so occasionally we have to ask for a little help to get where we’re going. If you or anyone you know can contribute, we will not only be eternally grateful, but we’ll send you a goodie bag (or box probably) this summer.

Thank you for supporting our little press. The money raised will cover printing costs, fund awards, and help us pay our authors for their work.

TO DONATE OR TO SHARE THE LINK, VISIT: https://www.gofundme.com/f/aqp-2022-project-fund

OCTOBER 2021
AQP Welcomes our first intern, Teddy Colocotronis!

Please join me in welcoming Teddy to the AQP team. Teddy Colocotronis is graduate of the Davidson College English Honors program and a recipient of the F. Cooper Brantley Award for his short story entitled “Through a Telescope Shifting”. He currently resides in New York, probably close to a cup of coffee. What better introduction than by way of a poem:

Bad Penny 
Teddy Colocotronis 

Is God no more than a rumbling in my subconscious? 
Thunder has a strange, rolling recurrence in its sound. 
God is a bad penny, 
Redemptive sneer and all. 
God the ghost I curse in the wind 
God the brass idol that curses me back. 

I come from a race of people who used up all their God in war and peace. 
They learned to pull water from the dust. 
I, their descendant. 
What is left for me besides to suffer from love? 

What but to spit into dust, apply mud to my eyes.  
To remove it and see the street 
And the uncounted pennies 
I’ve tried to keep warm in my hand. 

Sometimes I wish the sky would open up and wash away all us sinners. 
Sometimes I wish the Earth would open up and bathe us clean. 
Sometimes I wish God would see me face-to-face and 
Sometimes I flee from His sight. 
But sometimes is never always, and so 
I turn to a stream from nowhere which turns always in upon itself, 
And promises to wash no one clean. 

Updates from AQP

AQP is transitioning from a literary magazine to an independent press, focusing on poetry chapbooks and collections, but also fiction, essays and hybrid works. We will still be including feature essays on our website, as well as the occasional poem or short story, and we promise to find a way to continue to support young writers and artists through our Carolyn Hall Young Emerging Artists & Writers Award. We will have some new titles to announce soon, as well as an essay series which will launch in the next few days. In the meantime, we are taking a moment to reflect on the work we’ve been fortunate to publish in print so far. In gratitude, The Editors.

Volume 6, SPRING

Well, here we are. Six years in and preparing for some changes. Although this is our last quarterly for awhile, we’re honored to have been able to celebrate the works of hundreds of artists and writers. Rest assured that the quarterly will be back up and running after a short hiatus to restructure a bit and to focus on chapbooks and full length collections. Submissions for future issues are currently closed but know that if you have sent us your work and have not yet heard back, we’re reviewing it and will notify you soon. We’ll be posting new calls for contests and manuscripts so stay tuned! But for now enjoy the Spring issue! Stay safe and keep making, sharing, and supporting poetry and art.

Artwork: Wonyoung Park, “Prospect of Existence”

I am a high school student living in New York and have been learning art outside of school since 7th grade. I have participated in and received awards from art competitions such as the Scholastic Art and Writing competition and Bow Tie Gallery competition.

Volume 5, Winter

 

This issue is dedicated to Richard Baron (1948-2018)

HEY! COWBOY! (acrostic for Baron Richard)

Borderland bandito   galloping with the speed of light   high
above the cloud trains   I hope it comes as a nice surprise  to see
your household metallic possessions  as they were in the beginning  
before you took them into the sun    & revealed their radiance

Abiding   in the saint’s saloon, Señor Copa   its walls covered 
with Polaroids of prostitutes sitting on your lap  I hope 
you’ll have a few on me   before you brace the sands of Mars
& capture the twelve remaining Hasselblads on the moon

Rambling through  spaceboy   in the saddle   how’s the view
of Times Square from up there   I hope it’s just as good as it was
when you first rode into town   a camera in you holster   ready 

to shoot the black & white glory of peep shows & billboards   

Objectifying   New York in the 70’s   when snow fell on N. Moore   
around the cornerfrom your apartment   Men in Suits    architectural 
angles   & Great Americanson TV   now   as you ride the Milky Way
I hope you’re lassoing the stars into patterns   like Still Lives

Nearer by far   The Empire of Texasis a waffle   in Canis Major’s 
lone cantina   they sell hardcover copies at the bookstore next door   
I hope when you’re not busy photographing the source of creation
you’ll send a copy of Real Fire  to warm me in your absence

Janet Hamill
November 16, 2018