Andrea Marie Williams

Author & Poet

Andrea
Marie
Williams

Dedicated to the little girl in the attic — I love you, little bug. I’ll write us out of this place.

Writing the ghosts out of the corners and into the daylight, haunting the narrative from the inside out.

Andrea Marie Williams writes fiction and poetry with themes rooted in the American South, drawn to generational inheritance, the survival of faith, and the complex nature of human relationships. Her work is a constant flow of interwoven experiences and psychological explorations.

An American Army veteran, mother, and lifelong writer. She grew up on the sands of California, and now resides in Alabama.

A Catalogue

Three works to date — one in final edits, one in print, one in progress.

I.

Abrahamic Religion

Novel · Southern Gothic

1965, Alabama. June left the convent looking for God, and Something else found her first.

✝︎

From Chapter Two

“Where are we going?” I speak quietly when I first wake up. I’ve been trying to be louder, I miss the mornings I would spend entirely in the disciplined silence of prayer. I hear the quick inhale of smoke before he says anything to me. He holds it in his lungs but I can already smell the smoke leaking out of his mouth. “Just the industrial district across the way. We will probably end up stayin’ there for the night.” He exhales the bitter air into the space between us, but it quickly filters out of my window.

The Chevy rolls past the magnolias and the bare twiggy persimmon trees with wild brambles below them. They usually have forgotten fruit lying below, but now they stand alone in the cold. Sometime in August, the fruit will return, hot and left to the ground, some of them will even be split open and pregnant with wasps gorging on the pulp.

I pull his jacket tighter around my body. The soft fabric slides over my shoulders and lower neck. The rough texture swallows me. I reach into the pockets for my rosary. The purple glass beads slip over my fingers as cool river stones might. I can almost feel them hum in the mornings, beads can’t hum, but mine do, they always have.

My thumb brushes over the silhouette of the holy broken body still nailed to his cross.

I believe in God.

I lean my back against the window, my head finds a good spot by the crook of the bench seat and the window frame. I watch him as he drives from somewhere else in my body, I let him become the background of the creed. The Father Almighty. I continue praying.

His freckles deepen in the sunlight as it crests over the trees and I begin to wonder what it would be like to be hated by him.

Completed · Pending Edits
II.

You deserved a lullaby too.

Poetry · Collection

A collection of poems about grief and motherhood.

The stars and the sea

If I am lucky enough If I am right in thinking that there is a heaven, There is a chance, Someday all of my children will be with me. I will be surrounded with it, The little voices I never got to know in life. The mystery of it all, The grief will never be cured. Surrounded by the angels, The ones that gave me motherhood, Oh a day that will be. When we are heaven and earth. And if there is nothing, The oh, so perfect stillness The circle of the universe, Growing, begging to be anything but small. In the end we all are together once again, Flowing from one place to another The synergy of our souls, Finally in the perfect alignment we missed on earth. Perhaps my babies are stars And I will become the sea, So I may hold them, Rock them in my waves every night, Oh a day that will be. When we are stars and the sea.

Published under the pen name Killy Alejandro.

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In Print
III.

Speak To Me Your Evil

Poetry · Chapbook

A chapbook in progress.

✝︎

Asking nicely

For once and only once Why not me? I too was born of blood and bone You fed me the Frenchman’s curse A child of God Worthy of contemplation. Do you think of me? How can a thousand words be in your honor …Et Moi? What do I have to do? To deserve coming out of your mouth half formed in prayer Do you think of my hands? Maybe the long freckled map of tendons in my neck? Who will revive my heart and soul when I am ash Am I doomed…Even in death…? To only be remembered by my thoughts of you? To be known of the body and nothing else? Tu me manques
In Progress

Selected Verse

Bloodshed for a Bride

Biting it back The red seeping from my mouth Only a small breath of it. The flavor of death I try to stop it The bleeding seeds consuming me I let it. I want it. Only half– No – More More More I don’t try to stop it anymore The red spilling into my open throat A deep inhale of it. Spring will never come again As long as I drink the blood The deep crimson love of the dead.

Piece by Piece

It’s for you. Take it all, Take none if it suits you. Take my hair, My hazel eyes, Take my smile. My lilting laughter. Piece by piece. It’s all yours, Take it all. Take none if it suits you. Take my kindness, My temper too. Take my expressions, My funny little freckles. Piece by piece, Tear away every piece. Whenever you’d like, Whenever you need. To be a mother is to give yourself away, Expecting nothing to return. For you I’ll do it willingly, not knowing if you will ever exist. All of the energy, Combining in a moment, Only to be torn from me again. Without anything to show for it. I gave it all away, Receiving the ashes in return. The hopelessness of knowing you were of me, And now you are gone. Until the second you left, You were loved, Unconditionally.

from You deserved a lullaby too. · as Killy Alejandro

I too am Alexander

If you ever wonder what the echoes of your influence look like, Know that all who seek me out also seek you. When they say your name I turn around, Because what is of me is also of you. As stained glass is to a chapel, Where they look for color, they find the ancient construction of us. Embedded into consecrated walls, Smoke from holy wood, sweet and desperate. Everyone who heard my voice tastes your words All who read my poems have seen your blood. Where your shadow lingers, my pen traces. No one knows me without hearing your name. I follow the footsteps you leave, And we take turns haunting each other’s dreams.

Glimmer by the oven light

I’m living our life with someone new. He drinks tea out of your teacups, He makes our bed with my colors. He washed your smell off my neck with his kiss. It lingers in your old songs, I find traces of you inside my fingers. Every now and again I look at your name on paper and glue it on my paintings. Hidden away in suns and stars. Our fire burns a million miles away. Ten years lost and wasted to drunk memory Under lock and key— The remnants of what my brain can conjure The smell of conditioner on shoulders Clean hands, slender and strong A faint shimmer of taste Then the baby cries— I blink you away.

from the manuscript in progress Speak To Me Your Evil

The California Magnolia

Letters from the writing desk — and word when the novel is finished. Read and subscribe on Substack.

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Get in touch

For enquiries about the work, readings, or correspondence.

Andreamariewilliamsauthor@gmail.com