INTERVIEW WITH THE NEW MASTHEAD:
MEET THE 2025 BWR EDITORS!
Every year, the BWR masthead changes hands. To give our readers and contributors a chance to get to know us a little better, each new editorial team completes an annual interview for our website. We submit questions to each other & answer each other’s questions in turn. Keep reading to learn about which editor would rather kill fiction than marry it, what food our editors absolutely do not want to run out of in the apocalypse, and what part of the editorial process our editors love the most.
Name a writer that changed the way you think about writing.
Alayna: Douglas Kearney. I read Buck Studies in undergrad, and I’d never seen anything like it. It changed the way I thought about poems — what they could be and enact on the page. I remember reading his work for the first time so vividly because it unlocked something in me, it gave me permission to experiment with my work in a way I never had before.
Darby: Sandra Cisneros; reading House on Mango Street as a kid completely shifted what I thought prose writing was allowed to be, especially when it came to form and voice—it felt like it gave me permission to write in a way I hadn’t known was possible before, and was probably the first book I read that really made me think deeper about craft. I think that was the first time I ever copied down passages from a book into a notebook, because I loved the words so much and wanted to hold on to them after I had to return the school-assigned copy. As I got older and read more of her work, she also changed how I thought about genre—her CNF, poetry, and fiction were all so stunning, and helped open my eyes to how much possibility there was when it comes to genre and form.
Abi: Sandra Cisneros. I read Loose Woman in undergrad, and it was the first books of poems that was so unabashedly sexy, irreverent, and rebellious, Cisneros challenged me to write more simply, but keep the beautiful lyric. I love that balance in writing
Ernest: Richard Siken.
Conrad: N. K. Jemisin. She creates worlds that are so dense and beautifully textured, so easy to get lost in. And she helped bring me around to loving a good romance in a novel!
Chinaecherem: Arundhati Roy.
Chinaecherem Obor, Editor-in-Chief
What character from a movie/show do you think you’d be besties with?
Darby Power, Managing Editor
Alayna: Annalise Keating from HTGAWM
Conrad: I would really like to hang out with Joy Wang from Everything Everywhere All At Once—I think that’d be a great time.
Ernest: Sometimes I wish I lived on Wisteria lane in Desperate Housewives so I can get all the first-hand tea and drama happening in the neighborhood. Plus, I envy the bond amongst Bree, Susan, Gabby, and Lynette; would love to be their bestie.
Abi: I’d be besties with Elena Alvarez from the remake of “One Day At A Time.” We’d go to protests together and bond over educating our mama’s on pronouns .
Chinaecherem: This will be such an obvious, very predictable answer for anyone who knows me and has watched Ted Lasso; the only correct answer is Sam Obisanya. I’d pick him first for my team in a five-a-side game of football.
How do you view your work at a literary journal as inherently political? And if so, what responsibilities do you think comes with what you are choosing to publish?
Abi Diaz, Nonfiction Editor
Abi: What we chose to publish is always going to be political. Words have the power to bring a mirror to society, inspire change, and create whole new worlds. Every decision made in publishing choses some voices over others. So I like to think we have a responsibility to uplift voices of those who have the most to say, who have for too long not been heard. Many journals in the past year have made a point to publish work about struggles for liberation. Now more than ever, literary journals have the capacity to meaningfully impact the publication of writers who have power to educate, influence, and shape what the future writing world could look like. This especially matters when newer writers are getting their first few publications. I like to think that at BWR we keep this in mind when choosing who to publish.
Darby: I do think it’s inherently political—particularly when we work on a journal that is experimental in nature, I think we have a responsibility to think deeply about not just how a piece is pushing back against and breaking down traditional literary structures, but how it is doing the same with other structures and systems of the world beyond the page—colonialism, capitalism, ableism, white supremacy, patriarchy, to name just a few. We have a responsibility to be thinking about what systems are being upheld or reinforced by any given piece—what is it doing that is experimental, radical, revolutionary in its engagement with these larger systems? What kinds of experiments and engagement feel most vital for the world that this particular issue of BWR is being published into? I think we also have a really important responsibility to be constantly engaged with our own process of evaluation as editors and in making sure we do not become stagnant or complacent or complicit. We can’t just react to a piece—we have to be willing to interrogate our initial reactions (whether those reactions are strong opinions or even indifference), and, even more importantly, we have to be capable of recognizing when our own reactions are perpetuating particular systems and be willing to reckon with that and actually adjust.
Ernest: I will start off by saying that visual storytelling is never neutral; it shapes narratives, reclaims space, and challenges dominant perspectives. Curating artwork for a journal like Black Warrior Review means making deliberate choices about what stories deserve to be seen, who gets to take up space, and how art interacts with the written text to create new possibilities of understanding. When I champion people and aesthetics underrepresented in literary publishing, I’m not just filling a quota, rather, I’m actively dismantling barriers that have historically excluded marginalized voices from literary and artistic discourse. All this is to say that my sole responsibility is to ensure that the art published is not only aesthetically compelling but also resonant with the journal’s mission to amplify underrepresented voices, whilst fostering an editorial practice that does not tokenize these artists but instead honors their work with the same rigor and respect granted to traditionally canonized artists.
Chinaecherem: Many people have said this in more poignant ways, that writing (and by extension writing-related work like editing a literary journal) is inherently political, and choosing not to engage with it as such is also a political choice. There are forces actively working to undermine art, to obscure history and discourage creative thought, through legislature and other, less legal means. Of what good is my position as an editor if I am not using my platform to resist these forces? I have a responsibility to make sure voices get heard that these bad actors would rather silence. I have to make sure that stories that speak to our times are told during our times, instead of being told generations later when the stakes are lower and there are less risks to taking the dangerous positions. At Black Warrior Review, we want to do the work here and now.
What would you choose as your fan-fiction subject?
Alayna: Supernatural 😉
Chinaecherem: Old Nollywood. You can never go wrong with anything from Old Nollywood, you will never run out of material. Iconic stuff, I’m telling you.
Ernest: IDK. Maybe, romance. Hear me out: Boy meets a Saccharine Guardian on his way to school and the older man falls madly in love with Boy, and gets all of Boy’s bills paid because he’s a SBF (Sugar Baby Forever), and gives Boy his credit cards so he could shop all he wants because Boy’s mom says “Looking good is good business”, and they get married on a private island, surrounded by a dozen fluffy cats, and llamas, and poodles, and close friends. This may/may not be my dream, don’t @ me.
Conrad: Oh, definitely Star Wars—there are so many fun corners of that universe, and so many things I would love to improve if I could.
Name one thing you think should not exist in an ideal world.
Darby: Billionaires.
Ernest: Capitalism.
Abi: Settler-colonialism.
Chinaecherem: Billionaires.
Ernest Ohia, Art and Design Editor
Which aspect of the editorial process do you enjoy the most, and what makes it meaningful to you?
Abi: I most enjoy deliberation meetings. Hearing what everyone has to say about a packet of work. It’s a really democratic process for us, and so many of our MFA peers turn up to share perspectives. The editors before us have also made such wonderful packets, so we’re really lucky that most of the time, we talk about what we can learn about writing from our wonderful contributors. MFA-run literary journals are fun like that, we’re learning on the job!
As an editor, I prize originality over everything else. What unique thing is this person doing with their form, characterization, voice, etc.? But for this genre, I’m considering originality, and emotional appeal. Chiefly, emotional appeal, because I want the visual aspect of our next edition to be captivating enough as to evoke emotions from everyone who receives a copy.
Ernest: The Galley process. Although it can be quite stressful, but there is something wholesome in reassuring contributors that their work is in good hands and giving them a chance to voice any last-minute concerns. Added bonus: since I’m an unrepentant perfectionist, the Galley stage affords me the chance to catch typos, formatting issues, or unintentional changes that might have occurred during the typesetting/layout process. I wouldn’t forgive myself if the manuscript went into printing and there was a mistake somewhere that wasn’t fixed.
Darby: I love deliberation meetings. Not only is this where the final decisions get made on what gets published, but it’s where we get to be in conversation with our fellow editors the most. I love when I share my thoughts on a piece I feel strongly about and can see it changing how other people are thinking about that work; I love when I enter a deliberation meetinting feeling one way about a piece, only to come to a completely new understanding of it because of insights other people i the room have shared. My very favorite part of this whole process is when I vote differently at the end of a deliberation than I expected to at the start, becasue to me that is so indicative of the power of this work that we get to do—we change minds with it.
Conrad: I really enjoy slush reading; it’s this really fantastic opportunity to read a whole lot of stuff, from varying levels of experience! I find that it’s both encouraging and inspiring to my own creative work to get to look through that big pile looking for gems!
Alayna Powell, Poetry Editor
Kiss, Marry, Kill: fiction, poetry, or nonfiction.
Abi: Kiss: poetry. Playful and fun. A delightful secondary partner. I’ll never abandon poetry, but our relationship is too unstable to build a home around. Marry: nonfiction. I want to grow an entire farm on the fertile land which nonfiction provides. The capacity for life-as-theory, a way for building change, and documenting our real lives. I’d marry nonfiction tomorrow. Someone find me some rings. Kill: fiction. Only because seduction, marriage, and murder is the basis of this game, someone must end up dead. Otherwise I’d be singing fiction’s praises and asking them for a kiss, too.
Alayna: Marry poetry, kiss nonfiction, kill fiction (pre-meditated murder).
Chinaecherem: Kill: You know that meme of Wesley Snipes with tears in his eyes and pointing a gun at someone? That is me before I kill nonfiction. Nonfiction is that unproblematic character that usually has to die for the plot to progress. Kiss: I have a flirtatious situationship going with poetry. I want to steal little kisses with it now and then. Marry: Fiction is my soulmate. I always come back to it. I want to grow old with stories and surrounded by all my little made-up characters.
Darby: Kill poetry (reluctantly, shedding many a tear), kiss fiction, marry nonfiction—but I’m also having a very “future historians will say they were good friends” situation with experimental forms all the while.
Ernest: Kiss nonfiction; Marry poetry; Kill fiction
Name one food you want to never run out of in the apocalypse.
Alayna FRUIT. If I had to pick one — cherries.
Abi: Rice&beans and that counts as one food if I put them next to each other because they’re inseparable anyway
Darby: Potatoes!! You can survive on nothing but potatoes indefinitely, it’s the perfect apocalypse food.
Chinaecherem: Beans. Oh the things you could do with some beans.
Ernie: Jollof rice and fried plantains.
What book do you wish you wrote?
Conrad Loyer, Fiction Editor
Conrad: The Ballad of Black Tom, by Victor LaValle—that book is so fantastic.
Chinaecherem: Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi
Ernest: The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. The depth and vulnerability of the book is something I strive to achieve in my own writing.
Darby: Her Body and Other Parties, by Carmen Maria Machado.
What is your most dreaded editorial nightmare?
Ernest: Losing all my files because my computer crashed, and having to start the arduous process of starting afresh. It’s a nightmare that will break my heart in two.
Darby: I somehow accidentally delete every single submission in the BWR Submittable. (I’m pretty sure this isn’t possible. But it is an actual nightmare I’ve had.)
Chinaecherem: Waking up one day and realizing I never responded to a submission from 2 years ago.
Conrad Loyer is a speculative fiction writer from Los Angeles, currently pursuing his MFA from the University of Alabama. He is an alumnus of Clarion West, and was the 2024 Worldbuilder Scholar. His work has been published in Fiyah, Berkeley Fiction Review, and Westwind. He lives with two humans, one cat, and probably some assorted bugs who haven’t introduced themselves.
Alayna Powell (she/they) is a biracial Black writer with roots along the Southern East Coast and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She writes poetry, short fiction, and book reviews, which are featured online in Poetry Foundation, The Bangalore Review, Tinderbox Magazine, and elsewhere. Her debut chapbook, After Forgiveness, was recently published by Bottlecap Press (2024).
Ernest Chigaemezu Ohia is a queer Igbo writer from Nigeria. He has works in Lolwe, The Muse, 20:35 Africa, Agbowo, Rigorous, and elsewhere. He is currently a third-year MFA candidate at the University of Alabama.
Abi Diaz is an Assyrian/Boricua/Incan/Irish poet, essayist, and MFA candidate at the University of Alabama. Their publications can be found or are forthcoming in Mizna, SwampPink, The Audacity and more. When not writing, they cook for beloveds, play with their cat, and tend to their garden.
Darby Power is a hybrid-forms writer from Los Angeles who has been working on Southern literary journals since 2017; most recently, they were the co-editor of the 2024 edition of Boyfriend Village, “More Than One Boyfriend”. They are an MFA candidate at the University of Alabama, where they are also pursuing an MA through the Hudson Strode Program in Renaissance Studies. Instead of sharing a fun fact about themself here, they invite you to make one up about them instead and just pretend that it’s true. Bonus points if it involves ghosts.
Chinaecherem Obor is an Igbo writer from Nigeria living in Alabama. His writing appears or is forthcoming in Mizna, Bellevue Literary Review, and elsewhere. He has received support from the Vermont Studio Center, won a writing prize at Bellevue Literary Review, named a contest finalist at Ninth Letter, and shortlisted in the Bridport Prizes.