Kathryn Peterson
Kathryn Peterson, a.k.a. “Doctor Kat” holds a Ph.D. in Creative Writing and Literature and an MFA in Fiction, both from the University of Houston, where she received both the Barthelme and Glenn C. Cambor Fellowships. She also has an M.A. in playwriting from the University of Cincinnati, where she won the Elsie B. Westheimer Award for Playwriting and the Graduate Prize in Fiction. Originally from Virginia and trained as a journalist, she had her own column about relationships and divorce, "Split Happens," in 2015-2016 in the Houston Chronicle’s online blog, Gray Matters. She has taught writing and English at the elementary, secondary and post-secondary levels, working with writers as young as 7 and as old as 92. She currently teaches creative writing classes for Writers in the Schools and is a faculty tutor in English for Houston Community College. She also is a developmental editor for fiction and nonfiction manuscripts, and works with graduate students on their theses and dissertations. Visit her online at facebook.com/splithappenscolumn/.
“Of Puzzles and Prophecy,” excerpted from “Post Divorce Chaos, Spiked With Bird Motifs” from Kathryn's column Split Happens in the Houston Chronicle’s blog, Gray Matters.
The last time I ran into Prophecy Woman, it was in the same cafe I went to before the divorce, and she was coming out of the bathroom.
"I sense that you are very VAG," she said. "V-A-G."
I blinked. "Very what?" I didn’t know much about Prophecy Woman, but I had a feeling that V-A-G meant something very different to the two of us.
"V-A-G. Since your divorce, you've become very versatile, agile, and mobile."
"Wouldn't that be VAM?" I couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, but the G is there," Prophecy shook her finger. "You've become closer to God." She said it as if it were an accusation. Or maybe I felt it as an accusation. Maybe I doubted whether or not it was true.
There's still a lot of my life that doesn't make sense given what happened when I got divorced. I try to make it make sense and the pieces just don't fit. Perhaps that is why I so resist both the "just find yourself" narratives and the "just turn to God narratives," because neither seems capable of fully explaining what’s happened, even though I've never strayed that far from either. God has been here communicating all along; I just can’t quite understand the memo.
So I stand here, fighting to catch up to and comprehend my new reality. My life is like the dollar-store puzzle my roommates got, the one with the strange building and the body of water none of us can quite identify. It covers the dining room table, complete now except for a piece missing here and there, and a couple of larger holes. But the pieces aren't exactly missing.
They're just not yet in place. They sit in disparate piles on the other side of the table, waiting to be placed into the whole. How they fit, I don't know. Maybe I'm not meant to know. Maybe I'm just meant to keep working, keep constructing, keep fiddling with the different shapes and configurations.
It could all be exciting, if I let it.
Recommend Books for Aspiring Writers
Teaching Statement
I believe in leading a writing workshop that is constructive, productive, and, most of all, safe. A workshop has to provide a space conducive both to generating and refining work, and where participants are free to pursue their own individual goals. For nonfiction in particular, we must be careful not to judge another’s choices, whether those are writing choices or life decisions. I strive to create an atmosphere that is interactive and dynamic and emphasizes growth, forward movement, and creation.
The last time I ran into Prophecy Woman, it was in the same cafe I went to before the divorce, and she was coming out of the bathroom.
"I sense that you are very VAG," she said. "V-A-G."
I blinked. "Very what?" I didn’t know much about Prophecy Woman, but I had a feeling that V-A-G meant something very different to the two of us.
"V-A-G. Since your divorce, you've become very versatile, agile, and mobile."
"Wouldn't that be VAM?" I couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, but the G is there," Prophecy shook her finger. "You've become closer to God." She said it as if it were an accusation. Or maybe I felt it as an accusation. Maybe I doubted whether or not it was true.
There's still a lot of my life that doesn't make sense given what happened when I got divorced. I try to make it make sense and the pieces just don't fit. Perhaps that is why I so resist both the "just find yourself" narratives and the "just turn to God narratives," because neither seems capable of fully explaining what’s happened, even though I've never strayed that far from either. God has been here communicating all along; I just can’t quite understand the memo.
So I stand here, fighting to catch up to and comprehend my new reality. My life is like the dollar-store puzzle my roommates got, the one with the strange building and the body of water none of us can quite identify. It covers the dining room table, complete now except for a piece missing here and there, and a couple of larger holes. But the pieces aren't exactly missing.
They're just not yet in place. They sit in disparate piles on the other side of the table, waiting to be placed into the whole. How they fit, I don't know. Maybe I'm not meant to know. Maybe I'm just meant to keep working, keep constructing, keep fiddling with the different shapes and configurations.
It could all be exciting, if I let it.
Recommend Books for Aspiring Writers
- Writing the Memoir: From Truth to Art, Judith Barrington
- The Memoir Workbook: A Step-by-Step Guide To Help You Brainstorm, Organize and Write Your Unique Story, C.S. Lakin
- Fast Draft Your Memoir: Write Your Life Story in 45 Hours, Rachael Herron
- Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg
- Handling the Truth, On The Writing of Memoir, Beth Kephart
Teaching Statement
I believe in leading a writing workshop that is constructive, productive, and, most of all, safe. A workshop has to provide a space conducive both to generating and refining work, and where participants are free to pursue their own individual goals. For nonfiction in particular, we must be careful not to judge another’s choices, whether those are writing choices or life decisions. I strive to create an atmosphere that is interactive and dynamic and emphasizes growth, forward movement, and creation.