About
Get a look inside the blog & brain of A.K. Kubica
About the Author
A.K. Kubica is a fantasy author and amateur poet. She has published several poems throughout the last fifteen years in various anthologies, and her collaborative book of short stories will be self-published in October 2024.
A.K. finds peace by binge-reading fantasy novel series, taking hikes and experimenting with nature photography, re-watching her favorite movies and series (among them Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Sense8 & Last Kingdom), and spending time with family and friends.
She lives in the western suburbs of Chicago with her husband, Jeremy, and their dog and ESA, Wolfgang.
The Blurb
The Paradoxical Bio: Specifically Vague & Vaguely Specific
My best friend Jamie Koala once summed up the total of my life’s woes in one succinct quip: “The Universe gave you a dash of IBS, some GERD, a little OCD, a dollop of Bipolar and a sprinkle of OH SHIT! [drops the whole vial in]… Anxiety. Oh and f*ck up her feet, too. ‘Good luck!’” Perhaps not the total, but enough to give you a good idea. That’s not to mention the various nonphysical ailments from which I suffer (a very apt verb in this instance), such as my debilitating perfectionism and low self-esteem. All of these things that I have, however, don’t necessarily tell you who I am.
Hello, I’m A.K.
I’ve spent a great deal of my life thinking that I would never be a good enough writer to get anywhere with it, so I resigned myself to failure before I had even made the attempt. My desire to write was always overshadowed by the voice in my head telling me that it wasn’t worth trying, despite the many positive influences in my life—supportive family and friends—constantly telling me how great I was. It took an unbelievably long time for me to come to a resignation of an entirely different nature: allowing myself to write for the simple pleasure of writing with the knowledge that failure was absolutely irrelevant. This was a scary proposition, because it took away the excuses and avoidance I had been clinging to for decades. It forced me to admit something that I had been hiding in a fear-filled accumulation of the low-self esteem and perfectionism that had been my safety blankets.
I’m a writer.
This may not be a revelation to anyone who knows me and has read my work throughout the years, but this was as powerful for me as if I’d been struck by a bolt of lightning, and just as shocking. Now that I’ve succumbed to that obvious yet inspirational fact, I am determined never to allow myself to think of writing as something I’ve accomplished, but simply as something I love, something I can take pride in and continue to learn how to improve.
So if you take anything away from my story, I hope it’s to…