Why I Write: Kim Kircher
I started out writing as I suspect many do.
I was thirteen years old, acne sprouting on my face like mold on month-old cheese, my hair getting frizzier by the minute, the world a cold, damp place.
Word son paper became a sort of safe haven for all of my embarrassing,navel-searching teen angst.
Luckily, while my love of the written word never faltered,my cathartic needs changed.
I write now because I want to say something.
Literature is a safety net, wrapping me in words, delivering me towards some distant catharsis. I read to draw the world in; I write to bring it full circle.
My memoir, The Next Fifteen Minutes, takes the reader on a wild ride of salvation, from the bottom of a snowy avalanche to the cockpit of a Beaver float plane.
When my husband got sick, I thought I could save him.
As a ski patroller, I had always been a savior, so I mined the lessons I’d learned in the outdoors and applied them to my current dilemma.
It is much the same with my writing process.
To bring the word to the page draws out a reflection and understanding that shines against the darkness of our shared humanity.