Simply Put, Working with Leigh Chadwick Is Transformational: An Interview with Adrienne Marie Barrios

Adrienne Marie Barrios

Adrienne Marie Barrios is co-editor-in-chief and founder of Reservoir Road Literary Review and editor-in-chief of CLOVES Literary. She is co-author of the poetry collection Too Much Tongue (Autofocus, 2022), written collaboratively with Leigh Chadwick, and author of her debut solo collection We Don’t Know That This Is Temporary (Redacted Books, 2023). Her work has appeared in trampset, Passages North, Rejection Letters, Stanchion, and HAD, among others journals. She edits award-winning novels, poetry collections, and short stories.

Leigh Chadwick: Adrienne, first let me say thank you. During my time as an interviewer/influencer/life creator, I have never been so honored to interview someone as much as I am with you. It’s not every day you get to interview someone who has worked so closely with Leigh Chadwick. So tell me, what was it like working so closely with Leigh Chadwick?

Adrienne Marie Barros: No, thank you. The honor is all mine. It’s not every day you get to work with Leigh Chadwick. In fact, few have ever done it. Some still say Leigh Chadwick isn’t even real. Or that I’m Leigh Chadwick. Or that neither of us even exist. Maybe someone else is pretending to be us. Maybe none of us are real.

Anyway, it’s hard to nail down what it’s like working with Leigh Chadwick, as you can imagine, being Leigh Chadwick, and based on all that other stuff I just said. Things just sort of…happen. I began writing in ways I’d never written before, and sometimes we’d even write at the same time, working on lines simultaneously, forming something real and depressing and beautiful out of nothing. Simply put, working with Leigh Chadwick is transformational. 

LC: Leigh Chadwick is real, but is Leigh Chadwick one thing, or is she all encompassing? Is Leigh Chadwick you and the you next to you and everything you ever see ever? Probably. 

I am not sure where I’m going with this. 

I think we’re supposed to promote something on here, but I know that you made a cocktail and I want to ask, what kind?

AMB: Very important question. I made a gin gimlet. First, you need a coupe glass. Mine, I bought on sale from Anthropologie approximately 78 years ago; they’re very chic. Next, you slice a lime in half and then slice a little ways into the flat edge of the half to create a bit of an opening into the juicy flesh of the lime. Don’t forget to pour out a good pile of super fine sugar onto a napkin or a small plate. Squish the top edge of the glass into the little opening and run that around the full circumference of the glass to make it wet, then role that wet top edge in the pile of sugar, coating it to make a sugar rim. Then, in a shaker, combine 2 oz. gin, 1 oz. simple syrup, 1 oz. lime juice, 1 dash orange bitters, and a ton of ice. Shake vigorously. Strain into aforementioned glass. Some people double-strain (with a fine mesh strainer), but who has the time? (Although I do own one.) Voila. 

Though, this time I did 3 oz. gin, 1 oz. simple syrup, .5 oz. Cointreau, 1.5 oz. lime juice, and 2 dashes orange bitters, but who’s counting?

LC: Usually during these interviews I just share an author’s photo and a picture of their book, but I think we should get fancy and include a picture of your gin gimlet here, yeah? 

(Note to editor: Brandon, will you please include the picture of Adrienne Marie Barrios’s gin gimlet here, right here, and under the picture put “Adrienne Marie Barrios’s gin gimlet” but make it a link so when you click on “Adrienne Marie Barrios’s gin gimlet” it takes you to the order page of Too Much Tongue, which was co-written by Adrienne Marie Barrios and Leigh Chadwick and published by Autofocus Books, the link being this link right here: https://www.autofocuslit.com/books/p/too-much-tongue.)

Adrienne Marie Barrio’s gin gimlet

AMB: I’m sure people would want to see. The drink, I mean. 

LC: Yes, absolutely people want to see it. I think they need to. 

So, I guess you co-wrote a book? 

AMB: Yeah, that’s true. Although people tend to get it wrong. They think I wrote all the Adrienne Barrios bits. Do you even remember which parts Leigh Chadwick wrote?

LC: No, not at all. I’ll go back to the poems and half of the time, I honestly don’t remember writing them. It’s fascinating. I’ve read a couple and I’ll go, these are really fucking fantastic. Where in the hell did they come from? 

And I think that’s the beauty of how this came together. 

Can you pick out the lines you wrote? 

AMB: Yes and no. In a couple that were particularly deeply meaningful for me, yes. But some of them, not at all. In fact, like you’re saying, sometimes I don’t recognize the poems at all, which is especially hilarious when one of them is one that I wrote in its entirety. I would say I remember the poems in this other book called Your Favorite Poet more. Are you familiar with that collection?

LC: Oh yes, I am quite familiar with Your Favorite Poet. I mean, my favorite writer wrote it. And those covers. But really, what’s under the covers. 

I take it you’re a fan? 

AMB: Of the covers? Or of Leigh Chadwick? It doesn’t matter; the answer is yes. In fact, the cherry I bit into approximately 17 weeks ago inspired the cover of Too Much Tongue. I think that makes me a muse.

LC: The cover art, I should’ve said. 

(Note to editor: Brandon, please put a picture of both versions of Your Favorite Poet.)

I am impressed that anyone could bite into anything 17 times. It’s a beautiful lie. (I almost typed “You’re a beautiful lie” and maybe I should’ve because it sounds super cool.)

Speaking of that cherry. It looks kind of dirty, doesn’t it?

AMB: I think cherries are always a little dirty. Or do you mean dirty dirty? Like, sexual? Because yeah, I felt weird sending that cover to my dad.

LC: I too think cherries are always a little dirty, but I was definitely thinking more dirty like “Dirty Pop” *Nsync style.

(Note to editor: Brandon, will you please embed the music video for the iconic Nsync song “Dirty Pop” right here?)

What did your dad say after you sent him the cover art? 

AMB: I…think he avoided much comment on that. But you know my dad loves the poems. Remember, he recorded himself reading “The Gravity of Sadness”? (Originally published with No Contact.)

LC: I do, yes! Your dad has the best voice. It was perfect.

(Note to editor: Brandon, will you please embed the YouTube clip of Adrienne Marie Barrios’s dad reading her and Leigh Chadwick’s poem “The Gravity of Sadness,” which can be found by clicking this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzRDJTppalo, which was originally published in No Contact, and can be found right here by clicking this link: https://www.nocontactmag.com/twenty-seven/the-gravity-of-sadness. (Note to editor: Brandon, will you please make sure that if someone clicks on the link that it opens a new web page instead of it taking them away from this interview? Thanks, bud.)

Have you ever considered asking your dad to make an audiobook of Too Much Tongue?

AMB: Actually, he’s already explicitly requested the honor.

LC: No shit? I love it. We should probably tell Michael (Wheaton, publisher of Too Much Tongue and other books) that we’re doing an audiobook. 

AMB: We probably should, yeah. I bet he’ll love it. Or whatever. I mean, it can be whatever he wants it to be. 

LC: I’ll message him right now, and maybe he will respond by the time the interview is over. 

AMB: He might. But, then again, he might still be trying to forget about how I reminded both of you that you are slowly dying. 

LC: We are all trying to forget. Desperately. 

Do you remember how this project started? I’m trying to remember how we decided to make a book? 

AMB: What I remember is that I had no idea what “poetry” meant, and then one day this Leigh Chadwick comes along, and she submits a poem to my magazine, and then we spend an entire evening debating submission fees, and then she asks if I want to write shit with her, and I say yeah totally, but inside I have no idea what that fucking means at all, and next thing I know I’m standing in line at the post office on Beacon Street and I’m writing a poem on my phone while she’s also writing alongside me and we wound up with one of the first three that were originally published on Autofocus Lit and that were the original proposal and the rest is history. 

Am I oversharing here? I tend to overshare. 

LC: I didn’t realize that it was one of the first three that we originally published with Autofocus Lit. Talk about full circle. 

AMB: My husband wants to be part of this interview. That’s how cool we are. (He’s watching me be interviewed. He’s jealous.)

LC: Welcome, Adrienne’s husband. You are lucky to be here and you are welcome. 

It was maybe like four or five poems in that we decided to do the book? I remember it being fast.

AMB: It was actually just the first three. That was it. That was the proposal. You see, Leigh Chadwick is very confident, and she’s very persuasive. Michael Wheaton didn’t stand a chance. Also, he was betting on Leigh Chadwick and Adrienne Marie Barrios. That’s a solid bet.

LC: I remember shortly after he told us all three were going to run as the banner on Autofocus Lit, we messaged him on Twitter and were like hey, we’re Adrienne Marie Barrios and Leigh Chadwick, wanna make a book with us? and Michael Wheaton was like, fuck yes, and then Adrienne Marie Barrios and Leigh Chadwick were like, fuck yes, and now we are here.

AMB: My cats are watching birds on the giant TV right now. I say giant because the birds are like the size of half their body. It’s adorable. 

But yes, now here we are. And this is not Leigh Chadwick’s first book, but this is my first book. No chapbook, nothin’. This is the big deal. This is huge.

Why did you ask me in the first place? I’ve never asked that.

LC: I hope you are enjoying this moment. I had mine a few months ago. The lead up was exciting and nerve wracking. The release was just as exciting. And then everything just kind of mellows out and sometimes you forget you even wrote a book.

How are you feeling about things right now? Does it feel real? Where are you with all of it? 

AMB: Does it feel real? No. Not at all. And the fact that I also have a solo debut coming out with this other imprint called Redacted Books (you may have heard of it) also doesn’t feel real. That solo debut is called We Don’t Know That This Is Temporary. It comes out in May of 2023. 

Really, though—none of this feels real because I’ve never been a poet. In my head, I’m not a poet. I’m not being modest; I don’t understand poetry. I don’t know how I’ve gone and written two books of poetry. It’s absurd. 

Luckily, I have my husband to remind me about things like the fact that we’re mostly empty space. That helps increase the dissociation to the point that I just feel like I’m inside a video game, and nothing matters. 

Except our poems, of course.

LC: Do you think your lack of “understanding poetry” has actually been beneficial in writing it? Like you don’t know where you’re going, which ends up somehow making it easier to get there?

I also feel, as co-writer of one of your books and editor of your solo debut that much of your work—and mine, for that matter—flirt with the hybrid. Are some of our pieces more flash fiction or CNF instead of poetry? I feel that’s easily debatable.

AMB: Wait, one additional note: I’m trying to go get an MFA in Poetry. So someone can tell me what the fuck is going on. We’ll see. I have to get in.

LC: An aside: I have fox bookends and the foxes are wearing glasses. They’re really fucking cute. 

AMB: That sounds adorable. The foxes. 

LC: They are! Sometimes I get lost staring at them and then I’ll forget what I was doing (probably pretending to write a poem). 

You asked me a little while back why I asked you to write poems with me. I have been trying to figure out how to answer the question, but the truth is, I don’t know? I just thought I should ask, so I did. 

AMB: And so you did. And the rest of history. And now we are unstoppable, together and apart. I heard you’re now even executive editor or something for this other imprint? Did I get that right? Leigh Chadwick has her own imprint?

LC: Yes! I’ve been blessed with a wonderful opportunity, which is running an imprint through ELJ Editions, Ltd. called Redacted Books. The purpose of the press is to work with a small number of authors (only two per year). I accept manuscripts based off solicitation. I don’t actually read the manuscripts. Oftentimes, as with yours, there isn’t actually a completed manuscript when I bring the title on. I solicit the authors based off what I read of their work in literary journals. I want to trust the writer and give them a contract and allow them the space and freedom to finish the book they’re working on while also giving them support and the knowledge that the book will be released in the near future. 

Our 2023 titles include your beautiful and sad and beautiful book, as well as a devastating collection by Nicole Tallman.

AMB: But I guess people want to know how we wrote the poems in the book with the cherry on the front. How did we do that?

LC: Fuck if I know. All I remember is a bunch of Google Docs and us writing lines over each other, often at the same time. The rest, to be honest, is a bit of a blur. 

I’m also having a hard time figuring out the timeframe. Like how long did the book take? How did we know when it was done? 

AMB: Hmmm. All I can remember is it took the time it took, and then we more or less had a feeling, and here we are. Does that sound about right? I think that’s right.

LC: Yeah, that sounds right. I remember it being abrupt. Like, hey, we’re done now. This feels done. I can’t explain why it feels done, but, yet, here we are…done. 

When did this interview series actually become a real interview series about craft? 

AMB: It’s my fault. I make everything serious. Maybe that’s why our poems are so good: I bring the too-serious side, you bring the whimsy. 

LC: It did work out really well that way. You are very good at picking up my overly whimsy crumbs and dropping them into the trash can. 

AMB: Oh no. Lol. (I am actually loling so I can say lol here.) I hope that isn’t what I did. You’re also very good at taking my very serious, very tragic, very depressing poems and making them more dynamic. (Except in my solo collection where I forced my doom and gloom. I’m stubborn occasionally.)

Feel free to stop letting me make this a serious interview, though. I monopolize the tone. It’s a fact of my life.

LC: Oh, no. It’s not you. I just finished an interview with Ben with the really long last name, and it had a lot of talk about craft in it, and I am either growing up or slowly dying. (Though I’m pretty sure you once told me that I was already slowly dying.) 

I think this is who I am now.

AMB: Well, you’re very successful, so that makes sense to me. People want to know why and how. And they want you to ask others why and how they are successful. And here we are. 

LC: I am very successful. This is true. And the responsibility that comes with it can be overwhelming. What do my fans want from me? They want so much, and I want to give it to them. I want to give it all to them. 

Take it. Take it all.

I am fucking delirious. 

Anyway, I saw a picture you posted on Twitter today where you were reading the new issue of Stanchion and wearing the greatest slippers. Please, tell us about these slippers.

AMB: Ah, yes. These are Ugg slippers. They’re the only slippers I wear, and I wear each pair of slippers until I’ve worn completely through the lining such that the internal mesh structure is quite apparent in the sole of the shoe. By that time, when it’s time for a new pair of slippers, all the good colors have sold out because I never seem to need slippers during slipper season, whenever the fuck that is. So I scour eBay for the cheapest slippers in the best color. These are Wildflower Pink. They’re delightful. I wear them all day, every day.

Do you wear slippers?

LC: I do wear slippers! I would be lost without them. I have a habit of ruining them, though. Like I’ll have a pair of Minnetonka’s and they’ll be all fuzz and love but the soles will be soft but since I’m Leigh Chadwick I’m like fuck it I’ll still wear them out and ruin them and I’ll tell you about wearing them out and ruining them in a ridiculously long run-on sentence. 

So now I buy cheap slippers and feel less bad for ruining them.

But I miss the fuzz and the love. 

Oh, and to answer your question: slipper season is every month but August.

AMB: Hmmm. I definitely wear slippers in August.

So, do you think we’ll write more poems together?

LC: I think the fact that we have different seasons for slippers is exactly why we’re such good writing partners. 

And yes, I do think we’ll write more poems together. Or at least I hope so. 

AMB: I’m pretty sure we basically started a poem the other day. We just didn’t move it out of Twitter DMs. We’ll get around to it. Even More Tongue, coming 2020-something. 

LC: We did, didn’t we? And I love the idea of a sequel. Even More Tongue. 

Too Much Tongue 2: Electric Tongue-aloo. 

The Most Tongue. 

All Tongue Everything. 

AMB: Call Michael. We need another book deal already. I think The Most Tongue will be my personal favorite of the series. 

LC: Let me message Michael right now and see if he wants to do a sequel. Wasn’t there something else I messaged Michael about or was supposed to message him about? 

AMB: Idk. I mean, we’re doing some sort of interview with Michael, too. One way or another. Written or voice or combo or…through telepathy. Something about a QR code in the book. 

LC: I honestly don’t know what a QR code is, but it sounds fancy as fuck. And if we’re anything, it’s fancy. 

I wonder if Michael knows we’re talking about him right now?

AMB: He’ll certainly know soon enough. Once this is published. And he reads it. 

LC: I hope Michael can read. 

AMB: Maybe that’s why we got a book contract…

LC: That was my exact thought.