In Forks & Knives, a woman discovers her husband’s secret battle with alcoholism and must decide if she should fight to salvage her marriage as they are about to welcome their first child. Where did the idea for this novel come from?

The general story arc is loosely based on my first marriage, but I fictionalized it to explore the “what ifs” I wondered about along the way. What if I’d said something else or done something different? Would the outcome have changed? Processing all of that was cathartic to my healing after-the-fact. I tell people, the actual story of my journey is peppered throughout the story, but it’s not told in a linear arc. The fictional details are things I feared might happen, or outcomes I wished had happened.

The forks that Kat considers in her mind’s eye at various crossroads in her marriage are possible alternate roads…some of which are painful and cut like knives. Ultimately, she empowers herself, and that’s the kind of mindful choice I hope all women arrive at in their own lives, no matter their circumstances.

Forks & Knives is an incredibly compelling story. What was one of the hardest parts for you to write?

Alcoholism and codependency are weighted topics for most people who live with addiction and seek recovery. Navigating love without trust, clinging to hope when fears abound . . . these are difficult tasks at best. Oftentimes, people lose themselves in the battle.

I suppose one of the hardest parts of writing this book was being honest about all of that. It’s easy to paint the addict as the only person who owns responsibility when a relationship flounders in the muck of mental illness, but it takes two people to make a partnership. I wanted both Kat and Eric to be sympathetic, despite their respective flaws. Most people are doing the best they can at any given moment. Sadly, sometimes their best isn’t enough to build a future on. But usually, people have choices. Whether they see them or act on them is one of the book’s central themes.

What do you think were some of the defining moments in Kat’s character development?

I don’t think people can change if they aren’t honest with themselves first. Kat was fortunate to find wise people and resources that helped her see herself clearly, and she embraced her areas of growth–in some forks more easily than in others. As she learns, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, hoping for different results.” Kat wanted different outcomes, so she was willing to try different things. In the end, she redefines what her key values look like: We say we love someone; what does that look like in action? We desire commitment to shared goals; how does each person live that out? Maybe reality doesn’t jive with the words people say . . . and then what do we do about that?

What is one thing you hope readers take away from Kat’s experience?

Except for living in dire circumstances, I believe we always have choices. The path we are on is not permanent. Unless we meet with death, we can always change our situation. We cannot, however, change other people; we can only change ourselves.

Along those same lines, life’s too short to be living in an unhappy home—and we pass along a sad legacy if we do. Everyone deserves to be safe and to live an authentic, content life. Empowering ourselves to choose healthier forks when we’re at a crossroads in our lives is an important place to start. Those decisions might be as small as how we choose to react to another’s anger or as big as leaving an unhealthy relationship behind. Every choice can matter in how we navigate the options in front of us.

Kat’s choices are hers. My hope is that readers will consider the forks in their own lives, past and present, and I wish for happy, hopeful, and healthy outcomes for all.

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Original source: https://literarytitan.com/2024/09/13/people-lose-themselves-in-the-battle/