ABOUT KATY

I was born in Honolulu, Hawaii’s Star of the Sea Hospital on December 29th several centuries ago. My first excursion was a trip to the hospital roof at the tender age of one day to view the Chinese New Year fireworks exploding in the night sky. I like to think that this first, star-spangled glimpse of the world exploding above me gave me a taste for the surprises of life in all of its unpredictable, multicolored glory.

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My very large family (six kids, two parents, a live-in grandfather, dogs, birds, and assorted parasites) moved to North Carolina in the '60s. We lived in a series of tumble-down lodges and crumbling mansions in Greensboro and, ultimately, Raleigh. It was a loud, dramatic and emotional upbringing. Saving grace: a constant parade of interesting people from all over the globe ringing the doorbell to visit my parents, giving me an appreciation for people who dare to be different.

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I came of age in the early '70s amidst a family that thoroughly embraced the counterculture. I attended Broughton High School in Raleigh, then ended up at UNC-Chapel Hill for an erratic four years, an experience rendered hazy by the usual '70s influences. I did manage to graduate from its creative writing program, with many thanks to Marianne Gingher, Max Steele, Daphne Athas, and the wonderful Bill Hardy. 

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I moved to New York City on St. Patrick’s Day shortly after I graduated from college in search of adventure, finding it in a crazy, shallow, and thoroughly enjoyable town. Despite a succession of bad haircuts and scruffy but artistic boyfriends—not to mention late nights at jazz bars and New Wave clubs—I worked on Wall Street, where I became the black sheep of my family by discovering an interest in finance. At the age of 30, I began my career as a writer, making my debut under the pen name Gallagher Gray. Somewhere along the way, I met and married my former husband, a rock musician and lovely man who once called me “maniacally cheerful." My reaction to the unabashedly misogynistic world of rock music inspired both a reluctant divorce (loved the man, hated the world he lived in) and the first Casey Jones adventure. My Southern roots were showing in more ways than one. Sixteen years in the fast lane of New York City gave way to a deep homesickness for the kinder and gentler South. Sure, it’s just a veneer of politeness but, honey, I’ll take the veneer. So I celebrated the new century by moving back to North Carolina and settling down in a modest and unassuming Durham that had not yet exploded into a hipsterian landscape of luxury high rises and unaffordable houses. Yes, the joke was on me: New York City apparently followed me down to Durham. In warp speed, I found myself with an irrepressible daughter who is now absolutely perfect adult child.

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Until recently, I never worked solely as a writer. Instead, I balanced my love for creative writing with a career in political activism, marketing, and nonprofits. Then finally, this year, I was able to reach an exciting and well-deserved milestone and finally transition into writing full-time. It's a new chapter for me that felt out of reach for a long time, and it still feels a little surreal that I can finally focus on my biggest passion of all. 

 

I’ve enjoyed getting older and developing a different perspective on what’s important in life. I spend my free time seeing friends, traveling, listening to live music, dancing the night away, adopting knuckle-headed dogs, neutering and feeding feral cats, and gardening in a decidedly half-assed way. But I am happy and well—and very lucky to have so many amazing friends and readers. My life is good. I hope yours is, too.