The Artist Formerly Known as Cora Kane

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything online. For the most part, I’ve kept my thoughts confined to paper and pen, where they’re easier to destroy—safer than a blog post or some cringey article from a decade ago. Whenever I reached the point where I had to write, where not writing felt like drowning in my own thoughts, I would rip the pages from their binding, hide them beneath piles of wet kitchen trash, or burn them. If it didn’t exist, I couldn’t be accused of saying it—or worse, thinking it. One less battle to fight.

I’ve come to realize that I did this out of fear. Fear that my words, my truth, might offend someone enough to provoke retribution. And honestly, I was just tired. Tired of fighting battles that no longer felt worth it. So, I retreated. I abandoned the battlefield, so to speak. I stopped writing almost entirely. No more poems, no more short stories, no more song lyrics. No more anonymous posts on random forums or cringe-worthy articles about being a “supportive military spouse.”

If you knew me back then, you’d know that all I ever wanted was to be a writer, especially in the thriller and horror genres. I grew up devouring Koontz, King, and Rice, hidden under old blankets or tucked away in nooks where no one could find me. During my marriage, I wrote from the perspective of a supportive military spouse, offering advice and opinions I had no business giving. My marriage—and my mental health—were in shambles.

A decade has passed since my last published article and my now-defunct debut novel. It’s time to re-enter the arena. I’m no longer afraid of retribution or revenge; my name has been dragged through the mud long enough that I’ve grown roots. I’m no longer a supportive military spouse. In fact, I’m no longer a spouse at all. My unwavering support for all things military has eroded into something closer to contempt. I no longer carry the same blind optimism for love and country and, at times, I find myself bitter about the state of things.

But from bitter beginnings come better endings—or at least some very interesting things to talk about. To discuss. To write about. Including my own past behaviors and beliefs. Even if no one else reads this, it’s a dialogue with my former self, an examination of how my thoughts, values, beliefs, and overall mental health have changed—and been challenged—over the last decade.