I have been roleplaying for eighteen years - nineteen in February. My very first character was Katarine Ryiah, and throughout this long writing life she has been a source of constant, aching tension. From the very beginning, I didn't love her story, but I loved her, so I kept her. And as I have grown, changed, and endured, Katarine has grown right alongside me.
She has faced trials, tribulations, and suffering that mirrored my own in ways I didn't always recognize at the time. Her journey has spanned countless forums, eras, and even genres. I have altered, retconned, reworked, and outright broken her story more times than I can count, always searching for that elusive missing piece that would finally make her feel complete to me.
Through all of that flakiness and uncertainty, I was never truly alone. Dear friends and writing partners brainstormed with me, supported me through existential spirals, and talked me down from metaphorically throwing Kat off the ledge during my worst moments. Their patience and belief in her, and in me, carried this character farther than I ever could have alone.
The concept I have always wrestled with most was her origin and her bloodline, how to expand it, how to let it breathe. It seemed to come so easily to other writers, yet for some reason I could never make it work for her. Story arcs resisted the idea of family. Time skips fractured continuity. Potential offspring became an elusive dream as writing partners drifted away and I wrestled with my own deeply rooted feelings about parenthood and legacy.
In so many ways, Katarine reflects my transformation from a shy, quiet preteen into an adult woman. The endless editing and adapting of her story echoes something we all wish we could do with our own lives, the desire to revise, to perfect, to heal. That desire drove me to the brink with this character more than once.
But finally, after years of plotting, scheming, planning, rewriting, and struggling, I think I've found the answer. I've finally figured out how to give Katarine the family story I've always wanted for her. It comes at a time when much of my own family has passed, when kinship feels especially distant and deeply missed. Once again, her story mirrors my own life in ways that feel both painful and profoundly right.
At last, I think I know what to do with her.
To every writer, reader, and dear friend who has intervened on Kat's behalf over the years, thank you. She is a tear in my heart that might have become a scar without you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your patience, your kindness, and for standing by me through all the flakiness.
- Kitter Bitters
