My “Small Batch” Book and the Driftless Market

I am thrilled to announce that my book, When to Hold On, can now be purchased at the lovely local corner store, The Driftless Market and Deli, in Platteville, WI! They offer organic produce, a soup deli, other food items, books, art, jewelry, and more!

My kiddo and I love to stop in there whenever we’re in town or even when we’re passing by Platteville on our way to Galena or Dubuque. It’s such a friendly place and perfect for picking up a wholesome snack for the drive.

If the Driftless Market had existed twenty-five years ago, when I was a student at UW-Platteville, I would’ve loved it–it’s just a short walk from where I lived!

On the store’s website, they write, “Our goal is to provide shoppers with one location to buy all of the products they need while maintaining a focus on environentally friendly and sustainable production and consumption. We are passionate about taking care of our planet and want to serve as a resource for those who feel the same way.”

Well, that’s totally me, and that is why I’m so excited to have my book for sale through the store. One of the reasons I chose to self-publish was so that I could do “small batch” book selling. I did not want thousands of books printed only to have them pulped a few months later if they didn’t sell by a certain target date. I wanted to publish my book in the most environmentally-conscious way I could. That means small batches at a time and selecting independent bookstores and shops that share similar sustainability goals.

Making this book is about celebrating the slower and quieter way of life. It’s about connecting deeper with nature and people. It’s an ode to this beautiful corner of our world, the Driftless Region, a geographical area that was left untouched by glaciers and is known for its rolling hills and cold-water streams, rock outcroppings, bluffs, prairies, and oak savannas.

When to Hold On is a girl-meets-girl story that makes space for quiet people, that looks up close at the beauty in the world, that opens a door to feeling grief in order to heal, that celebrates sustainable living, that’s about family relationships, and explores the power of silence.

Read more about the Driftless Market and Deli here and stop in at 95 W Main Street, Platteville, WI.

Join us on Aug. 2!

Rose Brookins, with her writing partner Mina Petkova, has written two novels, one romance, The Stand-In, and one coming-of-age story, Portrait of a Stranger.

Alby C. Williams’s debut middle-grade novel, Where There Be Monsters, is a queer normative story featuring a nonbinary character.

I’ll be reading from my verse novel, When to Hold On, a young-adult coming-of-age story that takes place in the Driftless Area.

A Q&A session will be after the readings.

I hope you can join us!

Election Day–If Only it were a Walk in the Park

Last week, I took a walk through Owen Park in Madison, WI. Tucked away in a residential area, it’s hard to remember that the city exists just beyond.

Made up of prairie and oak savannah, there was so much beauty that captured my heart.

Now, as I sift through my photos full of sunshine, it rains outside…sometimes suddenly, strong and steady, other times light and misty. It’s a lovely gray November day, so different than these photos, but perfect for sitting inside. The contrast feels wonderful…there are so many different types of beauty in the world.

Things are changing (as they always do). It is November, and so many leaves have already fallen, flowers have turned to seed heads, grass has turned dry–an orchestra of sound in the wind.

Yes, it’s Election Day in the United States of America, and yes, I am trying to redirect my focus as to not go crazy from all the commentary. With so much anxiety riding on this election, there is a sense that whatever I write today, it will be standing on the “before” of whatever happens. And there will be an “after,” regardless of the results. This is a scary thought in itself. So, as I wait, I turn to nature.

I turn to the prairie and the oaks for comfort, wisdom and hope.

I am first reminded to bend

and join myself with the music of life.

To let a lightness fill me, illuminate my insides, and connect to others beside me.

To have courage, to stand out, stand up, be as bright as I know I am.

To also allow myself to be soft, a comfort to myself and others.

To recognize that softness in others can sometimes be guarded by prickles, but it is possible to find.

And that just as amber big blue stem meets big open blue sky,

We, too can meet others different than ourselves and rejoice.

When the time comes, let seeds fall to plant new beginnings.

Let them fly….

We can never go back.

Somethings must fall and drift.

Relish the memories.

Know that the future holds space for new seasons.

This last photo was taken during a very slow walk in Governor Dodge State Park (Dodgeville, WI) in mid-October. This one reminds me…

To Look Up! 🙂

Wishing you well this day and every day.

Autumn Reading

I had the pleasure of meeting a lovely book club in California via Zoom this autumn.

Here’s what they’re saying about When to Hold On:

“A Young Adult novel for everyone…It is a coming of age novel written in poignant free verse. Addressing young love, grief, the power of silence, family relationships and social anxiety, it has universal themes that engaged everyone in our club. Get this book in your high school library, now!”

Lauren Rice, CA

“The best thing about When to Hold On is how much the form conveys. It’s in free verse and the unspoken urgency and tenderness of youth are mirrored so seamlessly, and so much information is revealed in so few words. The feelings are ageless. Timeless. Uplifting. Heartbreaking. This is one beautiful book. Read it and read it again.”

Sandra L. Christenson, CA

Each and Every One

This was taken on one of the most beautiful nights during a trip with my family around Ireland this summer. Before heading south, we spent a few days in Northern Ireland and walked along the lovely Ballycastle Beach, a slight curve of land made of many, many rocks and a strip of sand. On one end, the Glenshesk River meets the Atlantic, and at the other end, a boardwalk stretches over rocks that reach into the water. The waves were extremely calm that evening, and it being nearly the Summer Solstice, sunset came just after 10:00p.m. Rathlin Island can be seen in the distance (and although not shown in these photos, Scotland can also be viewed from the beach).

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

With so many rocks,
it could’ve been easy enough to ignore
their beauty,
to look over, look past,
step across
monotony,
but truly, so many rocks
made walking across in loose sandals
a slow task, and thankfully,
encouraged a moment’s pause,
because with a closer look
remarkable difference
became clear
each and every rock
piled on that beach
just another rock among many
became amazingly new
ancient
full of Story

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

Softened
by the waves of change
beautiful, unique,
each and every one
among many

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

Reaching out,
picking up one after another
allowed me the chance
to get closer to their stories
to know them
a little better

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

Holding each one in my hand
felt like holding a friend

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

a time to marvel

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

love

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

We are like these rocks—
we are one of many
each
and every one
softened by the waves of change
beautiful, unique
full of Story

What’s your Story?

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

attraction Autumn Be Kind Book Release books clouds Coming of Age debut different Driftless Area Ecology Fiction flowers foraging gender expression gender identity Geology Grief Hope Ireland joy Kismet Books LGBTQ+ LGBTQIA Listening Local Authors local bookstore Love Madison nature parenting Poetry queer quiet representation silence Speaking Up Summer Travel Verse Novel Wild Bergamot Winter Wisconsin writing Young Adult

Where Growth Takes Root

Poulnabrone, County Clare, Ireland

wind and rain
freeze and thaw
those things in life
that chip away tiny particles of ourselves

leave holes

where growth takes root

-Kate McKinney
Poulnabrone, County Clare, Ireland

What have you lost?

What are you missing?

How might this be an opening for growth?

When to Hold On is a coming-of-age verse novel set in the Driftless Area of Wisconsin, a journey that rides the unpredictable hills and valleys of grief toward the healing truths of reconnecting with oneself, those we love, and the natural world.

“One of the best books I have ever read; one that has affected me deeply, giving me greater understanding.” -Amazon review

“We love who we love…Beautifully written, this is a story of finding yourself when everything and everyone around you feels lost.” -Amazon review

When We’re Feeling Small

Maybe we said something we didn’t mean.

Or shared too much.

Maybe someone said something hurtful

or unloaded their baggage

onto us.

Maybe something happened

that shakes us to the core.

But whatever the cause, sometimes

we’re tipped upside down, turned inside out.

Sometimes we feel so small,

so vulnerable,

every thread of ourselves feels ready

to snap.

That is a good time to get close

to the fine details of life.

So close

that we see

that the small

is big and wonder-filled.

So close

that we feel ourselves looking inside

tiny worlds within worlds

So close that we come to realize

we are both small and big

like everything else on this planet.

This universe.

We are not alone in this.

But maybe most of all,

we need to remember

whole worlds of small

hold on.

Long Shadows, Winter Light

I’ve been watching
long shadows stretch across snowdrifts.
Letting my eyes rest
on sunlit peaks and contours,
feeling the warmth just by looking,
then skating my eyes
up those lines.

There is a feeling of
seeking, reaching, wondering…
…what next?

And yet,
it is in this moment,
this treasure of a moment
that I feel so grateful
to be in.
To truly see
and be a part of.

I do love winter.
At least,
in the beginning.
Ask me again in February,
or especially March,
and I might give you a different answer.

It is through the changes
in the seasons that I find joy.
And there are always, always
changes.

If I keep my focus
on this single moment,
this single day…
appreciate what this one day has to offer…
whether it be the strange, sudden
darkness that washes over me like a wave
in November,
or the shocking sunlight
on rare December mornings
that breaks through tree branches,
or the red bark of dogwood shrubs
growing even brighter late in winter.

Each moment is both long and short.

I like this time of year
when I get to focus in
on both
the darkness and the light.

Also, what better time to cozy up with a book?

If you’re in a cold climate like I am (where it’s only just reached a whopping 1°F) and you perhaps need a reminder of summer, here’s a taste of heat from the first page of my YA book, WHEN TO HOLD ON.

GIRL MEETS GIRL

The only sound
in the public library’s vestibule
comes from the pages I turn
as I sort through discarded magazines
until

a girl crashes into the quiet
like a cold splash in the August heat.
I try to step aside

meet turquoise
burnt sienna
the smell of cinnamon
green eyes that sink deep,
like soft rain soaking parched soil.

My heart skips. It’s a moment
or eons
before that girl moves around me,

swings the second door open,
walks through.

~ Kate McKinney, WHEN TO HOLD ON

IndieBound

Bookshop

Amazon

Barnes&Noble

So wrap up warm
and sink deep
as you follow
the curves
of whatever story
you choose.

‘Tis the Season for Snow

Snow came early this year.

In fact, the morning that I wrote my last post was the day it all started. Exactly a month ago, back when we were still in the middle of November, I had at last pulled together my photos and poems about the beautiful fall foliage. The weeks previous to that, I’d let myself bask in the autumn light, watch as Nature shed its layers, and breathe in the changes both startling and inspiring. But it took a while for my thoughts to steep and my words to settle, like tea leaves sinking to the bottom of a mug.

That day, however, I awoke in the wee hours of the morning and felt the burn to finally release those words and pictures. And good thing I did, because after clicking “Publish,” I went to the window and pulled open the shade. In the blue pre-dawn light, I noticed a snow-covered landscape.

Technically, it wasn’t our first snow of the year, but it was much more substantial.

It was as though Autumn had chosen to masquerade as Winter.

Having released my autumn images that morning, I happily put on my boots, grabbed my camera, and tromped into the snow to find new things to see.

My favorite
were these purple asters
looking bold and determined.

Below, they remind me
of snow cones,
refreshing and cool.
Bunches of sweet ice.

Then the days warmed
…and snow melted.

…And a different cold morning
left a layer of ice fringe.

Where even
something so still
—frozen, in fact—
looked as though it
could
perpetually be moving.

When
—in just-above-freezing temperatures—
both ice and water
clung
like crystals and globes,
a chandelier
whose structure was grass
and the light reflected
came from a gray sky.

And under that purple-hued gray
and misty blue,
a frosted prairie
just two years old
stood around
this Great Mother Tree
where
beginnings and endings
come full circle

And today,
she stands in snow,
a map of white and black lines,
ever crooked
with shades of gray everywhere between.

Happy tromping! Happy writing! Happy finding new things to see!

Leaves Are My Joy

These leaves in sunlight
clustered together,
colors lit,
bring to mind
the sound
of children laughing.
Those big belly laughs
and giggles that ripple out
from play
and keep on going
so that even the adults nearby
can’t help laughing, too.

— Kate McKinney

This trail beckons
with each curve and bend,
each long shadow,
each glowing leaf,
the blue haze in the distance—
trees waiting
to be seen.

—Kate McKinney

What shock! What glory!

To look up.
To see a golden-leafed maple.

To start a day
with the knowledge
that there is beauty
despite chaos and pain.

To realize
this tree is a tree
and without
doing more
or less

light is made splendid
through it
as it grows
toward the blue.

—Kate McKinney