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Hi, I'm Katelan Cunningham. I'm a storyteller.

Finding and creating stories makes me curious and I'm always curious. As long as we’re learning about the world we live in and the people who we share it with, we can believe in something larger than ourselves. I always try to believe in something larger than myself. My curiosity and affinity for the “more than meets the eye,” school of thought might derive from many life lessons learned from The Twilight Zone and Shel Silverstein.

I have nostalgic ties to the smell of mint, the feel of rust on a hot metal slide, scrapple, steep hills of grass, and the Ocean City boardwalk. I was born and raised in Arlington, Texas, then raised again in Savannah, Georgia.

My stories have led me to Los Angeles where I'm currently living a life of writing and designing.

Right now, a Brainlabber for Soul Pancake, and I'm working strategy and copy for a startup independent design studio that's in the works: Honor Roll. We create experiences for social enterprises that accelerate growth and generate impact. Keep an open eye for some exciting stuff coming up there.

I'm available for freelance work. Email me: katelanalivia[at]gmail.com

Please look around at some of my work and get a feel for things. You can also see more of my byline elsewhere:

SoulPancake
The Branch
Electric Literature
GOOD Ideas for Cities
Drawl Magazine
Arlington, Texas Magazine
Well FED
New York is Boring
Artemis
District Quarterly
District

Let's get social:

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The new writing/reading platform Medium is a fascinating place to write about things you care about and share with people who also care. This is part of the first (of many, I hope) piece I published there.




In the past five years or so, tech innovators and laggards alike have been able to go to Twitter for the latest news before seeing it anywhere else. Taking into account excusable, and not-so-excusable fallacies, we take the bad with good, choose who to listen to and piece together our own story as it develops. Our views, likes, shares and retweets gauge the impact of major historical events, and the impact of the May 20 tornado in Moore, Okla. was massive.
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Through the lens of social media, major events that were once considered regional turn national, global, even. Online petitions have taken the place of door-to-door efforts. Lawn signs and bumper stickers are being replaced by a temporary change of profile pic. And actually, I don’t think these conceptual skeumorphs are less effective given the amount of time we spend online. They’re well-intentioned and if nothing else, gain attention for things people care about. But we all care about so many things, it’s difficult deciding where to dole out one’s thought, much less, real empathy. How are we supposed to really feel it all?

Read the whole piece
At SoulPancake, I'm part of the Brainlab. We give feedback on the site and write prompts to get the community involved on answering some of Life's Big Questions. These are some of the questions I've asked.

When Will You Be Your Future Self?

image source

The person I aspired to be was a mirage. Not a figment of my imagination. Not an idol I aspired to mimic, but a mirage. I could see her, always in the distance with details I could never quite make out. This person who I wanted to be was waiting at a benchmark on the timeline on my life. I thought that when I was ready and worthy, I would approach her, my future self, able to see all the details up close. Able to pass her the baton and say, "Take it from here."

This imagery had always sulked in me beneath the skin, a cumulonimbus cloud hovering just above the heart--it's only recently surfaced itself. And as silly as it may seem, at 23, I'm just now realizing that I've been living beneath the shadow of my mirage. I thought that becoming her would be something I'd approach quite literally by passing on the very thing I've existed to build. But she doesn't exist without me. I am her.

Who are you? When are you going to turn into who you want to be and how are you going to do it?

People shared ideas and aspirations.

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The Past: Revisited



@thisistheilliad "I long for New York City on the daily. That has never left me."

My friend posted this on Twitter and it struck a resounding cord with me. I miss Savannah, Georgia all the time in a way that makes me feel like maybe I never experienced it enough. Like maybe there's more to see and I'm missing it.

It's a place of grungy alleyways, vocal cats, historic statues in parks, bars always within walking distance and people always on porches. It's a place kept alive with stories and nostalgia. My boyfriend says that nostalgia is a longing for a feeling that you can never have again, which I think is true. But you can't miss something until you leave it.

The energy of Savannah, though often Southern-slow and contained, is the very thing that makes it, for me, a place worth missing. It's something worth holding onto.

What memories does it feel good to have? Is nostalgia bittersweet or just bitter?

Tweet and photos of Savannah by Adeshola Adigun, @thisistheilliad

People shared memories.

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Where Do You Congregate?



image source

Whether you're religious or not, you have to admit, that religions have a knack for bringing people together. In a temple, mosque, or church, like-minded folks gather and share their faith. But it doesn't have to be a house of worship. It could be the pool, a coffee house, a park, a mountain, a bowling alley...

Is there a place where you spend time with like-minded folks that's uplifting and makes you feel part of something larger than yourself?

Go there. Take a photo. Share the space with us.

Upload a photo of the coolest place where you congregate.

People shared photos.

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One-Word Year in Review

As people weighed in with one-word summaries of 2012, I saw many similarities and patterns. So I looked beyond my SoulPancake word role and created an infographic of users' responses. Infographics usually represent solid, black and white statistics, so playing with words, concepts and emotions seemed like it could be an adventure...and it was!

Click here for a larger, zoomable version.


The Outlet is a blog hosted by Electric Literature covering literary events and happenings across the country. I cover some events happening in Los Angeles.

Irvine Welsh on Politics, Poop and Skagboys


LOS ANGELES–While Obama and Romney had their first night of face-to-face opposition in Denver behind their respected podiums, Scottish writer Irvine Welsh also stood behind a podium, but at Book Soup in Los Angeles. As he walked into the bookstore he announced (to whom I don’t know), “Romney’s kickin’ Obama’s ass.” Turns out, his observations were widely agreed upon.

Before we start on Welsh’s new novel Skagboys, I’m going to say something that would probably lead to my exile in many cliques of trendy people. At the time of this reading, I’d never read Trainspotting or seen the film. There was no reason for this, like someone who accidentally lived their entire lives without eating macaroni and cheese. You can be sure it was not intentional neglect but rather a horrible mistake that I have since remedied.

Things you may not know about Irvine Welsh:

—He’s ok with you answering a phone call during his reading as long if it’s from your coke dealer.
—His wanderlust is motivated by the guarantee that any place can become stale and he doesn’t want to think of himself in one place.
—He lives in Chicago and feels like it’s like New York City without the jerks.
—The film adaptation of his 2008 novel Filth is anticipated to come out in 2013. He’s had more involvement with its making than any previous adaptations of his books.

Go on. Keep reading at Electric Literature.

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In an Old Police Station With and Unplugged Microphone: McSweeny's Quarterly Concern #41


LOS ANGELES–Going to the release of the 41st McSweeny’s Quarterly Concern on Wednesday night is the closest I’ve ever come to being arrested. The event was held in Venice at the SPARC building, which is a decommissioned police station. Our host in this repurposed precinct was 826LA, a non-profit organization helping kids improve their writing skills with tutoring, field trips and workshops. (You might have read about it here.) Some people feel like being in school is like being in jail, but with bad-ass storytelling going on it didn’t feel like school or jail. In the classroom setting from behind a long wooden table, with a mic that wasn’t plugged in and wasn’t needed, we heard samplings of fiction and non-fiction from four writers throughout the night.

It gets better. Finish reading at Electric Literature.

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At Vroman's You'll Learn: You Don't Know Gypsy


LOS ANGELES–Tuesday night at Vroman’s in Pasadena, CA, Oksana Marafioti had her audience entranced with stories told not just from the pages of her book. American Gypsy: A Memoir is your typical coming-of-age tale, mixed with a coming-to-America tale, told by a woman who’s half-Russian/Romani and half-Greek/Armenian, whose family may or may not be burdened with a curse from her great grandmother, due to Marafioti’s out-of-wedlock birth. You know that story, right?

Her dad moved the family from Russia to Hollywood in 1990, right before the fall of the Soviet Union, in hopes of escaping her great grandmother’s curse and getting the chance to perform with B.B King. Her mother had left her husband to follow the two loves in her life: Marafioti’s father, and her passion for performing.

That's just the beginning. Read on at Electric Literature.
Drawl is Southern Culture magazine that admires the modest traditions of the modern South. Below are a couple excerpts from my contributions about a Savannah psychic and SoCal Soul Food.

Who's Reading Whom?


Photo courtesy
And now I’m reciting the questions over and over again in my head and I make sure the red light of my tape recorder is on—armed for battle. My knock gets no answer, so I ring the doorbell and peer through the glass door, past the shear curtains. All of the lights are off inside and the formal living room looks like a place where no one lives. There are a few variations of the fat Buddha statue on the fancy coffee table and upholstered, well-to-do chairs are positioned in corners.

A man meets my gaze, pulling the curtain to the side and looking right back at me. He mouths and motions for me to go to the back door—I oblige. On the back door, there are three signs:

“Call to Schedule Appointment.” Check.

“Please Ring Bell.” O.K.

“No Video or Recording Devices.” The red eye in my purse is peering out. Glaring. If I’m going into this as a believer, I turn it off, because she’ll know, right? And it will sacrifice my full immersion into the experience. But if I’m going into this as a cynic, then I ignore the sign. None of it’s real anyway. This is all just for a story. But I go in as best I can, as a respectful journalist. I turn off the red eye, and ring the doorbell.

Finish the story in the in January 2012 issue of Drawl.


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Finding Soul in So Cal Food


When I moved from Savannah, GA to Los Angeles, CA a fleeting three months ago, I was warned by people who'd lived in LA that I might become one of two things, either a pot head or a health nut. Well, so far, I'm still a Southerner just looking for some good grub. The extensive healthy food options and easy access to fresh produce is a luxury that took no time to for me to appreciate, but I've been missing, well, anything fried. I crave that stick-to-your-bones full you get from any food that might have "down-home" in the name. Not the kind of food you eat to fuel your chakras or to detox. I'm talking about the kind of food that (despite your cholesterol levels) feeds the needs of your soul. I've had bites of the extensive Los Angeles menu here and there, but in my quest to find a taste of Southern charm in SoCal, I've found two dishes that appeased my Southern needs.

Finish the story in the in July 2012 issue of Drawl.


Copyright © 2012 Katelan Cunningham. All Rights Reserved.