Kmartist.com © Some of the works as early as 2000 (website 2018) by Kimy Jean Martinez Knight is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 AI not allowed.
Soul In A Matchbox
"I traversed through my childhood as if I were in a horror movie. " Kimyjean
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Soul In A Matchbox© began as a hybrid docupoetry book I wrote about my childhood best friend's death and my investigation into her stolen grave marker. When I worked as a puppeteer I convinced my fellow puppeteers to join me in this investigation. We discovered strange happenings, hidden secrets, and were told unusual tales when tromping through the small town agri-culture in Northern California. What was reported as a suicide now I consider a possible murder. Soul In A Matchbox has developed into a creative nonfiction novel using the collected childhood memories, documents, photographs, and footage of the interviews I conducted.
“Light that fish on fire,
I’m done skipping stones,
I’ll eat it burned, Mom,
I’ll eat it with you.”
Soul In A Matchbox© began as a docupoetry hybrid book and is now a creative nonfiction novel. Kimy Jean Martinez Knight is a writer, screenwriter, artist and actor who focuses her work on the suspense-thriller genre. Soul In A Matchbox entwines supernatural happenings with gritty home-life of crime and abuse. It lays out a mystery to be solved for the reader, why was a teen's grave marker stolen? Did Kimyjean's (the protagonist) childhood friend's life end with suicide or did someone owe somebody else her life? The percolating yet provocative narrative of Kimyjean in present time soon meets the paralleled story of the past as she tours with her puppet troupe in parks and community centers of her childhood's small hometown patchworked with old orchards and hidden clues. Her discovery of what happened in the past sinks her deeper into the land, closer to her friend's stolen grave marker.
Soul In A Matchbox: Chapter 1, Pan Fried Fish excerpt.
"The sun blazed over the dried earth, setting firelight to the little shack until it became a black cut-out against a Prussian Blue velvet sky. I love the dusk in all her desperate attempts to hold onto the land with her velvety purple and orange metallic claws scratching as she is pushed back by dark alchemy into her underground. Dusk on dust withers, and the crickets and frogs create polyphonic chants along the irrigation ditch, their overwelming volume would have washed out any buzz-sawing sounds or screams. But even though the toilet wasn’t far from the trailer, out behind the milk tanks, I wasn’t going out until morning came, I held it." Kimyjean