An Inspired Chat with Kim K.

We’re looking forward to introducing you to Kim K.. Check out our conversation below.

Kim, really appreciate you sharing your stories and insights with us. The world would have so much more understanding and empathy if we all were a bit more open about our stories and how they have helped shaped our journey and worldview. Let’s jump in with a fun one: What do you think is misunderstood about your business? 
Honestly, I think a lot of people underestimate the grind and strategy that goes into what I do. People hear “author” or “book business” and assume it’s all creativity and free time, or that books just magically sell themselves once they’re published. In reality, writing is only half the battle, the other half is business. It’s constant marketing, building relationships with readers, studying trends, and staying consistent even when results aren’t instant.

Another big misunderstanding is that folks think success in this industry happens overnight or that you need a huge team to make things happen. But for most of us, it’s solo work, trial and error, late nights, and learning as we go. People don’t always see that behind every book or post, a real person is putting in long hours, dealing with doubt, and still showing up day after day.

At the end of the day, my business is a mix of creativity, strategy, and real resilience.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Kimisha, but most people know me as Authoress Kim K. I’m a southern writer, creative entrepreneur, and the unapologetic force behind stories that don’t play by the rules. My brand is raw and expressive, pulling you into worlds that don’t follow anybody’s rules—stories that dig into love, chaos, and triumph with an edge, but always make space for wild imagination and bold reinvention.

What sets my brand apart is how I turn lived experience into cinematic fiction. I write black men and women with depth, heat, and complexity, showing us in moments of power, weakness, and wild desire. My pages move like film: the intimacy scenes are raw, the heartbreak is real, and nothing is too sacred to be tested or touched. I bend genres, push boundaries, and give voice to the emotions most people try to hide. If you want safe, I’m not it, but if you want something that makes you feel, I write for you.

Beyond the books, I’m building a business that’s changing the game for indie authors and creatives, helping them market their stories, own their platforms, and break past every limit the industry tries to set. With over a decade of professional writing and more than six years as a published author, I’ve dropped over twenty book titles and built a catalog that refuses to play small.
Right now, I’m working on a new wave of books that dig deeper into messy, unforgettable characters. I’m also expanding into visual storytelling, helpful books for self-improvement, and real resources for writers finding their own voices and their audience.

If there’s one thing I want people to know about my story, it’s this: I create space for honesty, for healing, and for everyday people to feel seen. I’m living proof that you don’t have to fit the mold to make a mark, and that there’s power in telling your story, exactly as you envision it.

Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. Who saw you clearly before you could see yourself?
Honestly, the first person who really saw me was my English professor in undergrad, Ms. Williams at Atlanta Metropolitan State College. I wish I’d kept in contact with her, because she caught my talent way before I did. Back then, I was grinding through life with two jobs and a full course load. I was just trying to stay afloat and finish my degree so I could “make it.” I joined the creative writing club, mostly keeping quiet, sitting in the back, and observing everyone else. Somehow, I ended up as vice president and was asked to write a whole script for the team to perform around campus. I gave it everything I had.

When the Dean said my script was too graphic and shut the whole thing down, I was crushed. I was ready to be done with it all, and only write when it was necessary. But Professor Williams called me into her office and sat me down for a real heart-to-heart. She told me my writing was beyond college level, that I was coasting. She didn’t sugarcoat it when she looked me right in my face and said, “You’re not even close to being challenged here. You’re meant for more than this.” She could see I was on autopilot, settling for safe when I had something dangerous and real sitting in me. Then she told me, “Whatever you do, you need to keep writing.” I remember asking her why, because at that point, I honestly couldn’t see it for myself. I just wanted to graduate, get a job, and survive.

But she smiled, the kind of smile that lets you know somebody sees straight through all your walls. She just said, “You might not see it yet, but you will. Trust me—just keep writing.” That stuck with me. It was like she handed me a piece of my future I wasn’t ready to claim yet. Even when I tried to walk away, her words stayed, echoing back every time I thought about quitting. She saw the writer in me before I ever did—and pushed me to step into it, even when I couldn’t see the whole picture.

When did you stop hiding your pain and start using it as power?
I stopped hiding my pain and started using it as power after I lost my grandmother, went through a divorce, and hit that breaking point at work where I felt like I was just another body filling a seat. It felt like the universe was throwing punches back to back, and I couldn’t catch my breath. Grief knocked me all the way down. There was a stretch where I couldn’t write a single word, couldn’t even picture a story in my head. I was numb, floating through my own life, watching everything I built slip out of reach. The old version of me was gone, and for a while, I had no idea who I was supposed to be.

But I thank God and my support system for refusing to let me get swallowed by that darkness. I took a full year away from writing to process, to heal, and to learn how to exist again. Somewhere in that quiet, I started to miss the one thing that ever made sense: storytelling. When I finally picked up the pen again, I didn’t try to outrun my grief. I wrote with it, through it. I poured all that hurt, anger, and confusion into the page. What came out was the rawest, most honest book I’d ever written. It became my comeback book, the one that put my name in mouths and eyes I never could’ve imagined before.

That’s when it hit me. My pain wasn’t dead weight; it was fuel. Even at my lowest, there was a quiet power in choosing to create, in refusing to be silent. I learned there’s a strange kind of strength in baring your scars for the world to see. That’s how I stopped letting pain have the final say. I started pouring it into my work—turning all that ache into something honest, something alive, something that could reach somebody else and remind them they’re not alone.

Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What truths are so foundational in your life that you rarely articulate them?
There’s a truth I carry that I don’t always name, because it’s the kind of lesson that lives in the marrow: Most of us were trained to be limited. We were told to play it safe, to stay in line, to not want too much or dream too big. But limitations are just someone else’s fear in a costume. The older I get, the more I realize every time I choose to make, to want, to explore, I am breaking a generational curse. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more. More joy, more possibility, and more room to be fully yourself. It’s not arrogance, it’s not being ungrateful—it’s answering a call that runs deeper than survival.

So I rarely say it out loud, but it’s my foundation: You’re not here to be small. You’re here to take up space, to rewrite the story, and to remind anyone watching that the walls they put around you aren’t real. Limitations only have power if you honor them. I choose not to. Every day I choose more, I become more.

Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. Are you doing what you were born to do—or what you were told to do?
No, I’m not doing what I was told to do. If I’d followed the script, by now I’d be settled into my second baby, married, in a house, and convincing myself that contentment was enough. But my life looks nothing like that. I’ve found myself building something new, with a partner who sees me for who I really am, not just who I was told to be. It’s wild how different everything feels—new routines, new dreams, even a new kind of love beside me. I was raised on a blueprint handed down by people who only knew one way to live, and for a long time, I thought I had to fit that exact pattern.

But once I broke the mold, I realized life is so much bigger and messier than those old instructions. These days, I move off instinct, not tradition. There’s been a lot of trial and error, a lot of learning what fits and what doesn’t, and honestly, I’m having more fun than I ever thought possible. I’m writing my own story, and it’s nothing like what I was told it had to be. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://linktr.ee/AuthoressKimK
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authoress_kimk/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/iam.kla.9/