Kathleen Cain

I was born in Omaha, Nebraska, grew up in Lincoln, and moved to Colorado in 1972. I consider myself both a “Colobraskan” and a “Nebraskaradan.” Place shapes much of my writing, both the poetry and the nonfiction.

Bill Gaffney, a favorite professor at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln (I’m a 1970 grad) once described me as “a raucous Gaelic explorer.” I hope that’s still true. In addition to in-country travel, I’ve made one trip to France and ten to Ireland—and had a chance to live in the North Kerry village some of my father’s family came from. Ireland is the place of my heart and soul.

I’m also an internal traveler. The life of the heart, mind, and soul—trying to understand this journey we’re all on, has always held me fast. For thirty years I worked at Front Range Community College Library. Though there was more to it, mostly I answered questions for a living. It was a daily challenge. I never knew who was going to walk through the door—or what they were going to ask. In my work life I adopted a motto that Joyce Meskis, the original owner of The Tattered Cover Bookstore, once shared: “I’m not connecting people to books,” she said. “I’m connecting people to ideas.” Perfect work for a writer.    

I’ve been writing poetry since I was a kid. My first published poem appeared in the “Letters to the Editor” section of the local paper. It was titled “Black Man, White Man,” and addressed an incident of racial harassment in our town. As for the study of poetry, Greg Kuzma, another UN-L professor opened that door for me. I don’t know how many poems I’ve written over the years, except to say hundreds. Though I don’t have a complete collection, dozens have been published in literary magazines over the years. Some of them earned me a fellowship from The Colorado Council on the Arts in 1983 (I took my first trip to Ireland). Some of them have merited prizes (even a first from the Foothills Poets long ago), though they are mostly honorable mentions. I don’t really write poetry for the recognition. I write poetry to connect—one heart, mind, soul to another—in ways we wouldn’t ordinarily. It’s a secret language we share, writer and reader.

My nonfiction was jump-started with a class in Advanced Composition with Bill Gaffney—even though he gave me an F on the first assignment: an autobiography. “You can’t flunk me on my life!” I fumed. “I lived it!” “My dear,” he answered, staring at me through the bifocals balanced on the end of his nose, “it’s not that you’ve lived your life badly—it’s just that you’ve written about it badly.” I may have finally earned one A in his class. I have ten years of correspondence with him in my files. I dedicated my first book to him (Luna: Myth and Mystery. Johnson Books. Boulder, CO. 1991).

I’ve always been interested in nature. That interest led to the publication of The Cottonwood Tree: An American Champion (Big Earth Publishing. Boulder, CO. 2007). I’m happy to say it was selected for the Nebraska 150 Book Project in 2017, in honor of 150 years of statehood. I’m equally happy to say that I picked up a library copy once to find that someone had followed my suggestions to find the leaves of each different type of cottonwood—there they were, as bookmarks. I love to give cottonwood “walk ‘n talks,” especially to adults. Some of my friends call me “Cottonwood Kate.” You can, too.

I hope you enjoy this web site. It gives me a chance to share different aspects of my writing. The blog, for example—The Big Green Pulse of life that keeps me writing almost daily essays on the nature close by, beginning with my own back yard. The haiku poetry. The photographs. Book reviews. Links to other writers and literary projects that inspire us all.

I am available for Cottonwood Walk ‘n Talks, guest lectures, as well as readings and workshops. Contact me at: kathleen@kathleencainwriter.com