Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to K.L. Kolarich. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Hi K.L., thanks for joining us today. We’d love to hear about a project that you’ve worked on that’s meant a lot to you.
Embarking into the publishing sphere was one of the craziest and toughest endeavors I’ve ever entertained; a decision which ultimately turned my life upside down. But it wasn’t done on a whim. On the contrary, the only reason I would ever voluntarily put myself through such emotional and intellectual toil was for the sake of one singular aim: to write The Haidren Legacy series.
I’ve found that the most meaningful projects like to haunt us. That’s right, like pesky little poltergeists who pop up at the most inconvenient times. Ideas which populate our minds while driving or taking a shower, doubling our water bills. The developing compulsion to jot down random notes whenever we hear an interesting word or phrase. Or in my experience, shedding a tear while imagining heated arguments between people who don’t exist. Those are not “normal” pastimes. Yet, they are completely normal to those confronted by something more meaningful than their previous occupation. The real question, is will they accept the charge, or choose to ignore it and live with a poltergeist?
Whenever I tried to downplay or outright ignore that haunting lure, it only worsened. It became all I could think about until one day, I just started writing. The meaningful demands the ordinary’s participation, wherever we can meet it. In my case, that meant closing down coffee shops two to three times a week… for five long years. Not because the success of the project was guaranteed, but because if I didn’t eventually complete it, I would have gone insane.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
I write epic fantasy books, all busting at their bindings with dark politics, strange magic, and really chunky glossaries. My flagship series, The Haidren Legacy, consists of five books in total, the first two (House of Bastiion & House of Darakai) having already been released; the third installment well underway. When asked, I often tell people that my novels are best suited for those lore-lovers living in their mother’s basement, who also happen to speak Klingon.
The Klingon is not a prerequisite, by the way. Just an assumed overlap.
Winning 12 medals and finalist nominations since its debut, The Haidren Legacy is an emerging gem in the realm of speculative fiction. A shock to us all, I admit, but one of which I am immensely proud.
Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?
We often hear the phrase, “You can’t please everyone”, and while that goes down smoothly, we rarely digest it whole. When I debuted House of Bastiion (The Haidren Legacy, book 1), I thought I understood what that phrase meant, but boy was I wrong.
Creating content is hard. Creating content worth anyone’s consumption is even harder. It requires ironclad focus, unfulfilled patience, resolute commitment, and an unrelated joy that is not contingent on the outcome. Once that product is finally complete and ready for distribution, there is a nervous inhale every writer takes as that book leaves their desk. While I still hold my breath to this day and will probably continue to each time I release future novels, I greatly underestimated how this would test my passion during my initial debut.
As wonderful reviews poured in, they were also peppered with criticism; some deserved, some outright cruel. It was crushing.
For those like me who spend years developing something–a cause which noticeably taxes every other aspect of life, we are desperate to be told that in the end, the sacrifice was worthwhile. That we didn’t waste our evenings and weekends saying “no” to everything else, just to say “yes” to the promise, nay the frail hope, that our project will rise to the occasion. The problem is, we’re going to receive mixed answers about this. And none of them will ever satisfy because people, readers, listeners…everyone will always disagree.
I can’t please everyone – so I have to stop aiming for that objective. My job is to write my favorite book. Not theirs. And in that, my joy has to first derive from a place untouchable by reviews, because its from that sacred, protected place that my imagination must stem.
In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?
One accepted lie that I find troubling in today’s culture is this idea that something is only profitable if it can be monetized. Don’t get me wrong–I appreciate monetary gain, however that cannot be my measure for why I create. Creation isn’t born from my bank account, it’s born from my heart and mind. The complexities of my experience. My coping with the world, and the ever-maturing lens in which I view it.
Science has repeatedly proven the benefits of creative expression, not only in a collective society, but within the actual individual who is doing the expressing. Creating reforms us. It makes us better, since the very process of creation demands skills which are diminishing generation-to-generation. Disciplines both hard and soft, that when practiced with repetition, are then encoded under a banner of emotional intelligence. People who create in any capacity (gardens and home-projects included), become better citizens. They consistently pause, breathe, and mentally stretch, therefore growing more understanding, patient, and tolerant. They simultaneously lean more into their convictions and through their art, have to own and acknowledge them honestly. In other words, creating helps us to connect with ourselves and fellow man. It helps us to see and appreciate someone else’s humanity alongside our own. Take those encoded strengths into any marketplace, family unit, or lifestyle, and there is value added to such a degree, I would argue it is critical.
My point is that while these fruits don’t always come with coin, they have definite profit. We need art classes, libraries, crayon sets, Legos, and the violin because the world needs good people. We need them much more than we need another dollar.
Overly monetizing art (in the sense that it’s only worthwhile to create if you can do it fulltime) makes it elite. The truth is you don’t have to be a starving artist to be an artist. And you don’t have to abandon the ordinary to touch the extraordinary.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.TheHaidrenLegacy.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thehaidrenlegacy/ https://www.instagram.com/k.l.kolarich/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/teamhaidren
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/kait-kolarich/
- Other: https://www.RogueKitePublishing.com
Image Credits
Cover Art: Fiona Jayde Media Character Art: @adamzskiart @adamar.art