indie author K

indie author KatYa

indie author KatYa

I am an Independent, self-published with several books to my name. I do hope to become a ‘Hybrid’ author some day, and am currently seeking representation (of course I wouldn’t wanna lose my humanity or anything). I’m proud to say there are now close to 100 total reviews of my work on Goodreads and Amazon combined, averaging better than 4 out of 5 stars. I also blog daily and publish flash fiction and creative nonfiction on my website, which has over 150,000 pageviews to date. I started a storytelling project on my youtube channel, where I read my work and enjoy creating video books, reading and writing have always been close to my heart. I get a lot of my ideas while running along the American River, and ran my first marathon last year. Soon I will be running in the ‘Way Too Cool’, my first Ultramarathon on the trails in the American River Canyon and I cannot wait! I do have to slow down my superhero once in a while and morph into a social worker to pay the rent, and have been counseling indigent peoples with mental illness for over a decade. In case you fancy degrees, I have a BA in English from Northwestern U. and a MA in Counseling Psychology. I play guitar for my 3 cats in my spare time, and have lost many a boy and girlfriend over my screeching insolence. I also roast and drink a lot of coffee, what’s new? I love to walk around cool neighborhoods and loiter around sweet coffeehouses, too.

2 artists

to all aspiring artists

You can be an artist if you are creating as you go. you live your life and you record it with whatever materials you choose, in whatever way you wish to record it, not necessarily how it appears to you, but how it feels to you, not necessarily each and every thing which transpires, but those instances which stand out for you, for whatever reason, good or badness aside, morality unnecessary, judgment removed, recounting perhaps some infinitesimal change may have established in your thoughts, feelings, sentiments, or even your style, behavior, fashion, or manner of dreaming or daydreaming, it’s all up for grabs, whether it pushed you forward, pulled you in or dropped you out, whether it silenced you, gave you pause, made you more vocal or expressively settled you into new rhythms or arrhythms. you can be an artist in any medium but if you wanna be an artist try to be an artist every day. the chore may feel quite burdensome at times, and especially at the start but not only in the beginning, either, very often midstream, do not let this deter you, this aversion to effort, do not mistake it for a lack of inspiration, okay, we all get tired by work on mammoth projects in need of our unceasing attention, just battle on through and love yourself more for your ceaseless, tireless devotion to what you do. and remember, when you come across a crisis of confidence in yourself, perhaps in the face of the contender, or in light of a culture which has not yet opened its eyes to you, to your content, remember the unquestionable and valid fact of your life, that only you have lived this life, this life can neither be price-tagged nor questioned, this life is yours and your alone and you are and always will be its great historian. and without you telling it, showing it, representing it? it will not otherwise be known! let this thought alone drive you forward in your quest!

imprint

imprinted. 4 life

These are not simply memories which are recalled to haunt and thrill me from time 2 time, no, these experiences I have had, the powerful ones, are accessible always, and you will find them in the way I speak, the way I think, the way I walk, the way I feel… you see, my friends, we have been imprinted and this is 4 life.

The life (lived) sinks to the deepest part of you, floating in a pendulum arc to rest upon your bedrock, where all is cool and slow-motion, your hard drive, safe and preserved, and takes form of an emanation, begins to glow! The loves, the friends, the places, the losses, our greatest moments and cavernous falls. The rush of it all, and yet resides in us, and when we meet again following some passage in time, you see the change in me, and I the difference in you. This light is not unlike sitting down with the beaten back pages of your favorite book, water-stained and dog-eared, tarnished and soft in your hands in your belly in your heart on a rainy day, deeper than any tattoo.

A song comes along in the cloud, have I told you how it hits me? Any one of the numbers between 1973 and 2017 and now I am all curled up focused in the center of the novel, all the many faces all the actors situating themselves inside the pressure of my blood. The world is one of endless colors then. I am who I was all over again, and it makes me.

It made me so. Made me who I am and for that I am thankful. I will never regret a drop of it, a day, an hour, a starstruck moment in my own endless night.  I may have changed, my dear, but only for the better and only for the best!  I am and we are all of the world which has touched us, though we maybe long ago hiked ourselves right off that decrepit map… we found bypass.

– KatYa, 2017

navel label trés

navel (orange) label #3

There are so many ways we came to greet one another, I knew the love was alive by this alone (no stale greetings, no hallmark cards). You came with flowers, I would surprise you from behind the door and rush into your arms… you might call down from an open window, warmly gazing at me on your elbows… I might do my eyeliner up in a signature Amy Winehouse kinda way with a twist… we might pretend like we were strangers, you would act like you were delivering a pizza — Is so and so home? I have an order for a Miss Mills… you would often be wearing my clothes.

russian river by Katya

Your arrival into my life had been so unexpected. I must have done something special to get you for a gift. I was alone and even lonely before I met you, I wonder now, did that have something to do with it? I would bring you pastries and coffee, your favorite kind. You brought me a paper once you took from the neighbor’s driveway. So what? you said, You can tell they don’t read them, there’s a half dozen on the lawn! (Yes, well, maybe they’re on vacation).

sky by K

We like it here in our little earthen corner of the wind sky water joint. Don’t we get along swell? I study you within the four walls, floor and ceiling. But never confined, no, always free you are to float toward or away from me and us and this condition cannot condition the unconditionable — that is you. You drive me crazy, whatever whomever however you are.

restructuring your conditions

I made some changes in my conditions to try and maximize the possibility for continuing to write books. Don’t get me wrong, I love my life and my routine. But something was off, and consequentially I’ve seen a frightening drop in sustained creative output the last couple of months. I can flash here and flash there, keeping up my daily blogging and youtubing, but there is a price to pay for this kinda work. You get used to bouncing around the internet! Which I find not so conducive to the long form, or the conditions necessary for writing books. Many will say (and I have told myself) it’s as easy as clicking on the ‘do not disturb’ protocol (on your devices) and making personal space for yourself. And maybe it is. But bloggers have a responsibility to their audience that the Ralph Waldo Emersons and Henry David Thoreaus of the world have not! Anyway, I decided to make some changes. I stepped away from the internet for several days and stepped outdoors. I drove out of town and did some things differently than usual. This coincides with a vacation from my nine to fiver. I eased up on the coffee. I caught up on my sleep (a real deficit I was running) and reconnected with some people and creatures (mostly cats) I care about, on a deeper level. I stopped reading and listening to the news. I need to make a conscious push towards the lighter things of life, laughter and learning and shared, hopeful perspectives. I tend to let myself go toward darkness, I realize, it’s easier to be jaded. Now I am rediscovering how it feels to wake up in the morning, make some coffee, and sit down at my desk in silence and write my book. It was only a few months back when I was doing this, but it coulda been forever ago.