By Charlotte Hamrick
Katy Goforth is one of my favorite fiction writers. Since I discovered her, about three years ago, I’ve felt a sisterhood with her through her stories, most of which are grounded in the rural South. She writes about Southern culture as good as any celebrated Southern writer I’ve read with a deep dive into family, tradition, and cultural evolution. Her new book, Anchored (Belle Point Press 2025,) is a collection that will make you laugh, cry, and say hell yes! I was honored to speak with her recently about Anchored and her writing practice.
How did you come up with the title Anchored? Is there a significance to it?
These stories were all born from snippets of stories passed down through my family. I come from a long line of storytellers. In the beginning stages of the pandemic, I was looking for a way to stay connected to my dad. I couldn’t see him, and the uncertainty of the situation was weighing on me. So, I started writing.
My dad is notorious for blurting out one-liners packed with information. Then he likes to smile at you and let you figure out the rest. For example, he recently met a friend of mine that is from Simpsonville, S.C. Instead of introducing himself, he said, “I once slept next to a man from Simpsonville.” Then he smiled and walked away. As a kid, I would always finish his one-liners in my head.
While writing these stories, I realized they were my anchor to my home—an anchor to who and what made me. Being a first-generation college graduate pushed me into different worlds than I grew up in. These stories are a reminder of who I am.
Who is your target audience with this book?
People that enjoy place as a character will enjoy this book. If you like stories that tie family, dark humor, sometimes lawlessness all together—could be your jam.
How long have you been writing Flash Fiction? What was your first published piece?
I didn’t know about flash fiction until I read Kathy Fish’s work. This was in early 2020. I later attended one of her workshops and was hooked. I love how important each word is to a flash piece. The title is very much the first line of a flash story. I wanted the table of contents in Anchored to almost be yet another story.
My first piece was published in 2021 by The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature. It was titled “In the Garden,” and it was a flash CNF piece.
Do you integrate personal experiences in your stories or are they purely fictional?
In my work, I can’t seem to separate the two, and I’m okay with that. Fiction is my tool for making the story end the way I wanted it to end.
Grandparents are a recurring nostalgic theme in your collection. I especially enjoyed “Restless” which brought my own memories to mind. Talk about why you were compelled to write those stories.
I miss my Ma Goforth. She was my dad’s mom, and she was Ma to an entire community that loved her. No one has ever loved me the way she did, and that was lost on younger me. I still have many of her things because I don’t want to lose that connection—like her favorite Hull coffee cup. I slip my thumb into the same place hers rested to feel close to her again. The grandparent stories are simply my joy and my grief all mixed up.
Which story in the collection was the hardest to write and why?
“Grief’s Watermark” and “Paper Dolls” are both very personal stories. They deal with sudden loss and what comes next. “Grief’s Watermark” explores my loss of a friend. He was 36 years old when he died. The older I get, the more I realize how young that was. It’s a loss I’ve never talked about with anyone. Not sure I will, and yet I was able to write the essay. I suppose that was my way of talking about it.
“Paper Dolls” was very tough for me. My mom had to put my oldest sister, Kelley, up for adoption in 1966. We found her in 2018 but lost her shortly after. The loss runs so deep here. It’s affected so many generations of different families. Adoption is trauma. We don’t talk about that enough. As a society, it feels more comfortable to wrap it up in a joyful ribbon. It’s so complicated for everyone involved, and I do regret that I didn’t have more time to work through that with Kelley.
The other difficult part of this story was making sure I told my story and not my mom’s. That belongs to her.
Is or was there a real Thunderbird Flea Market and Beacon Drive-In as mentioned in “That Time Strom Thurmond Almost Ruined My Family Day”?
All true. The flea market is still there, although I believe it is officially called something else. Locals still call it the Thunderbird. The Beacon is also still there and a historical spot in Spartanburg, S.C. It’s a place everyone should visit at least once. It’s more than a restaurant. It’s an experience.
Since I was a kid, this has been my order at the Beacon. Cheeseburger A-Plenty, plain with sweet tea. But if you’re feeling adventurous, you could go for the chicken liver plate. Can’t go wrong. And a little shoutout to Mr. J.C. Stroble. He was the heart of the Beacon. Still is.
Has writing and publishing changed the way you see yourself?
It’s put all of my insecurities and anxieties on display. I didn’t think about that when I started publishing. Oops.
I love how the opening sentence in “Origami” grabs the reader’s attention:
The first time grief had a noise was when it escaped from my fifteen-year-old sister’s body, a sharp exhale of air quickly followed by a slamming door.
Was that the opening sentence in your first draft? Please talk a bit about the importance (or not) of the opening sentence in your work.
That was the opening sentence in my first draft. I sprint when I write. Everything comes out at once, and then I put it away to revisit later. I’ve noticed that I don’t tend to change much.
As I mentioned earlier, in flash, every word counts. So, the first sentence better hit the reader right between the eyes.
What was the strangest place or experience that inspired you to write a story and how did it turn out?
My dad strikes again with his one-liners. When I was a kid, I would hear him talk about Cathy the chimpanzee. He grew up in Blacksburg, S.C. It’s a small town, so the community was tight. I found out about Cathy when my dad hit me with, “Did you know the first car seat I ever saw belong to Cathy the chimpanzee? Her grandma would ride her around in it.” That was it. That was the first bit I remember getting from him.
He went on to tell more stories about her hanging out at the local gas station. Cathy’s dad apparently had a biplane, and she had a small set of goggles she would wear when she flew with him. Now, is this true? Likely. I’ve found the more outlandish he is the more likely he’s telling me the truth.
I wrote a comedy piece called “Love and the Fall of Barabra Pepper.” It followed what I thought was little Cathy’s origin story. It was published in Bullshit Lit. It’s ridiculous.
You are really great at writing humor. Which story in this collection do you consider the funniest and why?
Ah, yes. What else do you do with your trauma if not laugh at it? I love dark humor. I get it honest. Born in the south to the people I was born to.
“Tilly Troublefield Is Up to No Good” is probably my favorite for humor. I enjoy female characters behaving badly.
Do you have any non-writing hobbies or activities that support your writing practice?
Music. I grew up in a house filled with music. My parents took me to concerts. The Oak Ridge Boys being my very first. Hell, Paul Riddle, the drummer for The Marshall Tucker Band, went to my church. It was all around me. And my parents wanted me to learn how to play an instrument. I chose the violin.
My husband and I are both big music fans. We’ve traveled the country seeing different bands and meeting folks. I have some very close friends that I have met at concerts. Many of my stories have a soundtrack of sorts, a specific song I kept on repeat while writing.
I have a novel coming out in October, and it had a specific song I kept listening to while writing it—”Part from Me” by the Avett Brothers. I’ve done this with my short fiction too. I had a story published called “Dilly Knox Fooled Around and Fell in Love.” I mean there’s a song right there in the title. But I actually kept listening to Colter Wall’s “Kate McCannon” while I was writing it. I wanted the vibe, but I wanted her to win.
And when I don’t have a specific song on repeat for a story, I play Amanda Shires’s album “Take it Like Man.” For me, it is an album filled with the stories of a woman who refuses to apologize for being who she is. You should really give it a listen. Shires is an unbelievable writer and poet.
Now, do tell. What’s your favorite writing snack or drink?
You will find me shoving an entire bag of crunchy Cheetos into my craw, while chugging a sparkling water. I’m not a complete barbarian.
Where can readers purchase your book?
You can purchase direct from my fabulous and kind publisher, Belle Point Press. The press has a list of independent bookstores where you can find it too. And, of course, there’s the major online stores—Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Books-A-Million, etc.
Katy Goforth is the author of Anchored (Belle Point Press) and Traveling Alone (Cowboy Jamboree Press, October 2025). Her writing has appeared in Brevity, Reckon Review, Cowboy Jamboree, Salvation South, and other journals. She is Pushcart, Best American Short Stories, and Best Small Fictions nominated. She was born and raised in South Carolina and lives with her spouse and two pups, Finn and Betty Anne. Learn more at katygoforth.com and follow her @katygoforthwrites.
Charlotte Hamrick’s creative writing and photography has been published in a number of literary journals and anthologies including Still: The Journal, The Citron Review, Atticus Review, Reckon Review, Trampset, and New World Writing, among many others. Her fiction was selected for the Best Small Fictions 2022 and 2023 anthologies and she’s had several literary nominations including the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfiction. She was formerly Creative Nonfiction Editor for The Citron Review and Barren Magazine. She also writes intermittently on her Substack, The Hidden Hour. She lives in New Orleans with her husband and a menagerie of rescued pets where she sometimes does things other than read and write.