We were lucky to catch up with River Kai Pilger recently and have shared our conversation below.
River Kai, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. We’d love to hear about a project that you’ve worked on that’s meant a lot to you.
Readers often ask if I’ve written myself into my novels or comics. I like to tell them that while I wouldn’t want to torture myself like that, every story I’ve written is a deeply personal part of my own healing. I love to experience each of my characters’ journeys with them, resolving huge fictional problems with real-world connections that feel insurmountable in real life. My debut novel, My Shy Alpha: Book 1 of the Steamy Shifter Romance Series, holds a deeper meaning for me – which I know may sound silly just from hearing the title. But that’s exactly why I wrote it. I wanted to select a genre with an endless selection of toxic tropes and gender roles for me to unpack, especially as a transgender man who has already undergone a major unlearning process around these very issues.
In doing so, I came up with a story that made me uncomfortable in the best way. Not because it follows these tropes or gender roles, but because it breaks them, it defies expectations, and the characters heal from very real issues despite being surrounded by fantastical, beastly scenarios (literally).
The main character, Aliya, is an abuse survivor with OCD and PTSD who experiences this beastly love, but she quickly discovers she has much to learn about herself through her “fated mate” romance with Noah, a shy yet burly Lycan (werewolf) who happens to also have PTSD. We follow Aliya’s self-empowerment journey as she listens to her inner wolf for the first time, voicing desires, needs, and hopes that were previously stamped out by harsh circumstances. Simultaneously, we fall in love with Noah as he defies social norms, speaking out against Alpha domination and earning a “weak” name for it – except he has the expected, untouchable physical strength to prevent anyone from dethroning him.
Yes, I wrote a werewolf novel featuring deep character development, a hard look at misogyny, and experiences with OCD and PTSD.
To increase the stakes for myself, I wrote My Shy Alpha: Book 1 while undergoing Exposure and Response Prevention therapy for the first time – a clinically recognized treatment for OCD.
After receiving multiple other physical chronic illness diagnoses, as well as PTSD, depression, general & social anxiety, and more, I still wasn’t diagnosed with OCD for 27 years of my life. All that time, I felt embarrassed about my obsessions, hid my compulsions (which happens more often than one might think as many compulsions are internal, mental compulsions done in silence), and rigidified my life under OCD’s authority. I couldn’t stop OCD from strengthening itself, just like I couldn’t figure out what was “wrong” with me. I even contemplated making a “River Instruction Manual” for a future partner, but threw that idea out when I didn’t even know what to write, not understanding why my own brain worked the way it did.
Spoiler alert: I didn’t need a “River Instruction Manual.” I just have OCD.
Without understanding this, I couldn’t improve my quality of life.
The importance of simply acknowledging and learning about a diagnosis is why My Shy Alpha: Book 1 of the Steamy Shifter Romance Series means so much to me. Aliya’s story can’t progress without knowledge about her upbringing. Through Noah’s deviation from Lycan gender roles, Aliya discovers pieces of herself that have been suppressed due to misogynistic violence that correlate to her OCD fears. Through loving Noah and receiving his genuine love, Aliya learns she’s actually experiencing romantic love for the first time, that her ex’s mistreatment wasn’t “just how it is,” and that something else existed: something terrifyingly beautiful that she never wants to lose.
Her journey isn’t easy, but that’s real, and I know how much even fictional representation can change one’s course of life.
It’s akin to my experience with coming out to myself: once I finally learned what bisexuality and transgender identities actually meant, my childhood suicidal ideation lost its gusto. I can’t change the core facts about my identity, just like I can’t “cure” my OCD – I will always be managing it on a day-to-day basis. Although, now I thankfully have the tools (knowledge) to manage it!
But whether I received access to those tools or not, I can love myself as I am through every stage of the process.
I can, but it’s also hard to always love myself in a society that isn’t built for me. Not just for me, but for everyone seen as “lesser” or “other.”
Much of society lacks awareness about disabled people. We are often shunned from daily life (or worse), so it’s no surprise we’re deemed unattractive and low on the list as main characters in a Steamy Romance. There’s an expectation that we should be striving for an often-mythical “cure” in order to be worthy of basic comforts, including romantic companionship. We need to be “fixed,” so society often views sexual relationships as off the table for us, infantilizing us or seeing us as so “other” that we simply don’t count.
Due to these myths, it felt vital to write not only an adult romance, but also a sensual, passionate, and consensual romance between two disabled adults. Like my other stories, Aliya and Noah are bisexual and carry the nuance of that lived experience in the story, but that’s not the central conflict: I’ve intentionally written the first book in their series to feel like a hug to those who understand invisible illnesses, as it’s often a lonesome experience. We, as disabled people, are just as deserving of our own love stories.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
I’m primarily recognized as an LGBTQ+ Romance author, but my roots are actually in thrillers—and for good reason. I wrote my first thriller webcomic on what I’m pretty sure was my deathbed. All signs pointed to Chronic Lyme Disease winning the battle over my life, and it probably would’ve if I didn’t have such a drive to live. In the darkest days of the battle, I truly had to fight. I struggled to breathe without an oxygen machine, malnutrition from Crohn’s and Gastroparesis made me weigh less at 18 than I did at 11 years old, and I could hardly take myself to the bathroom.
What do you think is the goal or mission that drives your creative journey?
I was shocked to learn that other trauma survivors often create fictional stories in their minds to help them fall asleep, something I’ve done since I was a child. That fact alone gave me validation that I didn’t know I needed; I wasn’t alone. Looking back, I made the shift from in-my-mind-only stories into writing full-blown fictional plots due to an unspoken goal: I knew I needed an outlet for the daily horrors I lived through. In some form of self-prescribed, instinctual treatment, I wrote, and I never stopped.
To summarize, I write about characters who have experienced trauma.
I can hear you now: Uh, River, don’t you mainly write romances?
Yes. I write about trauma and love. I know, it sounds contradictory.
But oftentimes, trauma survivors feel utterly, hopelessly alone. Unseen, and unloved.
Romance feels like the best genre to unpack this. Sure, Romance focuses on a connection between two or more lovers, but it’s important to note that a lot of trauma stems directly from other people – people who have shown us everything except love.
Having examples of solid, deep love can feel vital for many people who are terrified that their trust may be betrayed again.
In a world where we’re often faced with loud examples of people tearing each other down, I feel it’s important to acknowledge that it’s not by default. We can love each other, and we all need each other. In Romance Fiction in particular, a lot of romantic representation of days past is rooted in violence, and I feel called to show other possibilities – especially for survivors who need it most.
Fiction has powerful, real-life effects. Many people relate to the topics in my stories, spanning from minor relationship mishaps to serious traumas. But representation doesn’t stop at, “Oh, I see myself in this.” What I feel matters most is the aftereffect: seeing ourselves represented in something tells us, “Wait, I’m not actually alone!” That directly combats the deep, painful loneliness due to trauma, and that’s exactly why I love writing survivor stories. My deepest wish is to help my readers not just survive but thrive in some way, even if it’s just to take one more step or make it one more day, knowing they’re not alone.
How about pivoting – can you share the story of a time you’ve had to pivot?
My editor, Kayla Vokolek, massively upgrades my novels into something new and exciting that I could never achieve alone. Her editing mastery is a true godsend, but with any working partnership, we both had to discover how to complement each other’s styles. Unfortunately for Kayla, I’ve pivoted my writing style into what I describe as “chaos.” I’ll never forget the look on Kayla’s face the first time we sat down to mega-trim a full-length novel. Our goal was daunting – to majorly cut down on word count, as in from 124,000 words to 110,000 or below – and it felt genuinely impossible for me.
But Kayla came to the rescue with fresh eyes and the sharpness I was looking for. During the first “trimming” session, Kayla pointed me to a section of text she felt didn’t add much to the plot. I nodded, highlighted the text, and deleted over 1,000 words without a single moment of discussion.
Kayla was left literally gaping, and I burst out laughing because until then, I hadn’t realized how much I had learned to pivot in a heartbeat either. I didn’t “trim” anymore, I axed. There was no copying and pasting the text into another document to save it like precious gems, no debate on which pieces of it to cut out, just *boop*, DELETE, just because she suggested it and I trust her opinion.
Before I knew I had OCD, I was very precious with all things. OCD installs deep, irresistible fears into my mind’s eye that I can’t look away from, warning me that somehow, I’m going to cause harm and be a terrible person if I don’t do my utmost best to be perfect, 24/7. It can spin the most ridiculous stories, but because of my deep love for people, the planet, and all its various inhabitants, any imagined possibilities of harm feel too drastic to ignore. Without “Response Prevention” methods in place, I can trap myself in a never-ending compulsion cycle.
It’s unrealistic to finish writing a book or any long-form project without screwing the entire thing up and having to start over. Seriously, making major mistakes should be a requirement of the job. Except starting over due to big, undeletable mistakes can gut you – especially when most long-form projects spawn from deep in your heart.
The final draft of this novel Kayla and I worked on wasn’t its first draft, it was more like the seventh. I’ve always prided myself on editing as closely as I can before ever reaching an editor, making both of our jobs easier. Around the third draft, I felt it was ready for an editor’s eyes.
I didn’t have much money at the time, so I hired Kayla to review my plot outline instead. She gave me incredible feedback, to which I came to every writer’s horrifying conclusion: it couldn’t be salvaged. It was time to scrap the whole thing and start over.
I was so lost over this decision. One of my OCD compulsion categories centers around never creating any waste, except to the extreme. For example, let’s say I made myself a dinner of rice, roasted vegetables, and chicken. I had to scoop the exact amount of each food that I felt I was able to physically consume, down to the grain of rice, or else it’d be offensive to everyone in the world who didn’t have a meal. Except it didn’t stop there. What if I take too much and have to throw it away, and therefore I’m contributing to overfarming, and therefore climate change, and therefore sending the world into a premature apocalypse???
So to now take a novel that meant the world to me, and scrap the whole freaking thing?
Horrifying.
I sat with this for a year.
I wrote other novels, and I scrapped those too.
But were they really scrapped? Bits and pieces of my novel scrap pile started giving me little hints of ideas, puzzling together the flaws and gaps in the original plot outline I showed Kayla.
Until one day, I sat down to write a whole new novel from the first story I scrapped. It was nothing like itself. I changed the characters’ names, the course of their lives, and fleshed their backstories out beyond anything I had created in years until every single choice in the story had a deep reason behind it. All I kept from the original story was this dark, petrifying thriller lore at the original story’s core: the piece of it that felt so exciting and raw that it kept me awake at night. This core still inspired me to write about it after all those years, and I knew I had to chase it.
I wrote the first draft of this new novel in 20 days.
And no, it wasn’t just a few thousand words – I wrote 124,000 words in 20 days, and I did it by breaking every strict writing convention I’ve ever learned.
I wrote it out of order, and I wrote it “wrong.” Jumping around from Chapter 2 to Chapter 45, adding a little to the middle, then to the beginning, and back again, and instinct-deleting entire chapters along the way, my one goal was to follow “what I felt like writing that day.” No strict plot outlines, debating myself over synonyms, or back-tracking to old scripts, that was literally it: I wrote what I felt like writing.
By writing “what I was called toward” rather than “what came next,” I discovered how to write. There was a clear difference between writing this uncontrolled, impulsive draft and my OCD’s original style of write-editing; back then, I was trying to make my writing perfect in a naturally imperfect stage. I’d criticize my weird, out-of-this-world ideas, but those were actually the hidden gems.
I didn’t have bad characters or a bad plot. The original problem was that I felt my story “should” go a certain way, this is what “should” come next, these characters “should” feel this way, and this is how it “should” end. Why? Because that’s what I thought was “right” when I first came up with it, and “I should stick to the plot.” I was editing before writing, and there’s a reason why writing is step 1.
My new writing method is utter chaos, but ironically, Kayla and I have a hard time chopping it down. By focusing on what the story wants to say rather than pigeonholing myself into “shoulds,” I end up with drafts so tightly woven that we end up so excited over ideas it inspires, ultimately adding more new, powerful content. We still axe terrifyingly large chunks, but that just leaves even more free room to play.
Sometimes, you just have to throw some “right” stuff away to get to the best stuff.
Now, I let Kayla do the honors of deleting giant chunks of my novels when she spots the “right” stuff first, and we laugh maniacally together as it evaporates into the digital void.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://riverkaiart.com
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