Author Q&A with Etya Vaserman Krichmar

Etya Vaserman Krichmar https://www.etyawrites.com/ is a Kazakhstan-born writer who immigrated to the United States from the former Soviet Union. She writes literary nonfiction exploring identity, displacement, and belonging. Her work has appeared in Brevity Blog, Narratively, The Orlando Sentinel, Spillwords Press, MasticadoresUSA, White Rose, Write Launch, and international anthologies. She is currently seeking representation for her memoir “Citizens of Nowhere.”

Her short CNF, Love Flows Forward, appears in Issue #24.

Tell us a bit about yourself, something more than just what’s in your bio. Perhaps something not a lot of people know. 

I was born in Kazakhstan, raised in Ukraine, became a wife in Moldova, and came to the United States as a Jewish refugee from the former Soviet Union. Much of my writing explores memory, identity, and the invisible ways our past shapes the present.

One thing people may not know is that I didn’t begin writing seriously until later in life. A near-death experience changed the course of my life and compelled me to write. Before becoming a writer, I spent decades in the corporate world. I often say that I didn’t find writing—writing found me when I was finally ready to listen.

When I’m away from my desk, I paint with thread through needlepoint and enjoy creating elaborate cakes. I suppose storytelling isn’t the only way I like making something beautiful from scratch. Another little-known fact is that I’m a Reiki Master. That experience taught me to pay attention to silence, intuition, and the stories people carry beneath the surface.

Life is full of moments worthy of writing about. What inspired you to write Love Flows Forward? 

Sunflowers began with a childhood memory. Behind our housing development in the Soviet Union stretched endless sunflower fields. As a child, they became my refuge—the one place where I felt I belonged, and the only place where I could forget, for a little while, that I was different. Years later, that memory collided with another image: sunflowers blooming on land marked by suffering. I couldn’t stop wondering how beauty and tragedy could share the same soil.

As I wrote, I realized the essay wasn’t only about flowers. It became an exploration of memory, resilience, and the responsibility of remembering. Sometimes history returns quietly. Sometimes it blooms.

What unique or surprising detail can you tell us about the revision process?

The ending changed many times.

At first, I tried to explain everything I wanted readers to understand. Eventually I realized the essay became stronger when I trusted the image itself. The more I removed explanation, the more emotional space I gave the reader.

Revision, for me, is usually an exercise in subtraction rather than addition.

What did you learn through writing and revising it?

I learned that memory is never fixed.

Each time we revisit the past, we bring a different version of ourselves. The facts may remain the same, but our understanding evolves. As children, we experience events without fully grasping their meaning. As adults, we return with perspective, life experience, and, I hope, greater compassion for the people we once were.

As a writer, I also learned to trust restraint. My early drafts explained too much. Revision taught me that readers don’t need every answer. Sometimes what remains unsaid carries the greatest emotional weight.

What do you hope readers take from the piece?

I hope readers leave with a renewed appreciation for memory and for the ordinary people whose lives history often overlooks. We inherit more than family photographs and heirlooms. We inherit stories, and with them comes the responsibility to remember.

If the essay encourages even one reader to ask an older family member about their story—or to pause before allowing history to fade into silence—it has done its job.

At what point in your life did you begin writing nonfiction?

I began writing as a child in the Soviet Union. At first, writing was my escape. It gave me a place where I could imagine a different world and find a freedom that didn’t always exist in everyday life.

I returned to writing seriously much later, after a life-changing medical diagnosis. By then, my purpose had changed. I no longer wrote to escape reality—I wrote to understand it, to give voice to experiences that had shaped me, and to preserve the stories that might otherwise be forgotten.

I eventually realized I wasn’t simply recording memories. I was searching for meaning within them. Today, I write because I hope to leave behind more than my name. I want to leave behind stories that remind others their lives—and mine—matter.

Do you write in other genres, and if so, what?

Yes. In addition to literary nonfiction and memoir, I write historical speculative fiction, romance with speculative elements, and short fiction.

I’ve completed a historical speculative novel, The Watcher’s Testimony: Bearing Witness, and two memoirs, Citizens of Nowhere and A Flight to Freedom. I’m currently writing Accidental Witness, a romance with speculative elements, and another memoir, Awakened by Papa’s Spirit.

At the moment, I’m seeking representation for Citizens of Nowhere, which explores what it was like to grow up Jewish in the Soviet Union and the lasting effects of displacement, antisemitism, and the search for belonging.

Although I write in different genres, they all explore memory, identity, resilience, and the ways the past continues to shape the present.

What fuels your desire to write?

Curiosity fuels my writing, but so does memory. I’m fascinated by ordinary moments that reveal something extraordinary about being human. A single sentence, a photograph, a prompt, or a childhood memory can become the beginning of an essay or a novel.

I write because I don’t want meaningful stories to disappear. Whether I’m writing memoir or fiction, I’m trying to preserve the voices, experiences, and quiet moments that remind us of who we are. I believe every life holds a story worth telling.

What have been the biggest influences in your writing?

Life has been my greatest teacher. Immigration, family, illness, loss, and resilience have all shaped my voice.

I also grew up reading the Russian, European, and American classics. Chekhov taught me to appreciate the quiet moments that reveal character. Tolstoy and Bulgakov showed me the sweep of history and the complexity of human nature. Alexandre Dumas introduced me to adventure, while Émile Zola, John Steinbeck, and Theodore Dreiser revealed the dignity, struggles, and resilience of ordinary people. Nikos Kazantzakis opened a door to spirituality and the search for meaning.

As a writer, I’ve learned just as much from careful revision and generous mentors as I have from the books that shaped my imagination.

How do you balance writing with everyday life?

I don’t wait for inspiration. I write whenever life allows—sometimes for hours, sometimes for only a few minutes. Consistency matters more than perfect conditions.

I’ve learned that writing doesn’t happen only at my desk. It begins by paying attention. Conversations, walks, medical appointments, and ordinary days often become tomorrow’s stories. Living and writing are inseparable.

Are there any special projects, other pieces, or books you’d like to promote?

I’m currently seeking representation for Citizens of Nowhere, a literary memoir about growing up Jewish in the Soviet Union and the lasting effects of displacement, antisemitism, and the search for belonging.

I’m also finishing Accidental Witness, a romance with speculative elements that explores memory, identity, and the unexpected ways the past reaches into the present.

Alongside these longer projects, I continue to write essays and short memoirs because they allow me to capture life’s quieter moments—one story at a time.

What do you think when you hear, “the good life”?

It’s found in meaningful work, honest relationships, curiosity, and gratitude.

After growing up where some stories could not be spoken, I think the good life is the freedom to tell them—and the privilege of having someone willing to listen.

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Thank you, Etya, for sharing more about your life and writing with us and for being a part of our growing community. We are grateful for the time you spent on this Q&A.

We wish you luck in finding representation for your manuscripts and the best with all your writing projects.