Kristin Kelly

Freelance creative. Constant connector. Proud Texan. Married with mutts.


140 Character Hitchhike


My husband and I left work early on a Friday to drive four and a half hours north on Interstate 85 through rural North Carolina. We were headed to an event that had been on our calendars, and our friends’ calendars, for months. Our bags were in the trunk. We had drinks in our cup holders. And at a steady 75 mph, we were off. I sent out a tweet letting our friends know…


The Maid

This is Doris. For 47 years, she worked for my grandfather in Mobile, Ala. Last week, I saw her for the first time in 16 years, and I can’t stop thinking…


Now it’s obvious.


Today is the last day of my full-time contract at The Obvious Corporation. As a freelance creative who collaborates with teams on a short-term basis, I’ve grown accustomed to…


John Locke was on my flight


Before I recognized his face, I heard his voice. He was on the phone sitting right next to me waiting for our flight to board. There was no question this was John…

Publications edited by Kristin Kelly

A place to share the results of your hard work.

Latest Story

How Do I Write?

They’re young. They just walked across the stage. But they could use a little advice.

It’s not like the magazines.

Latest Story

Shit Happens

When my childhood friends started having kids


I have many dear friends in my life, but it was around each of these girls that I did most of my growing up.


When I lost my future father-in-law


This is my husband’s Dad, Paul Klug. He passed away unexpectedly 9 months after Matt and I started dating.


A great storyteller


When I was a kid, one of my favorite things in the world was to listen to my grandfather tell stories about places he had traveled. He would sit in a red leather wingback…


Two words


I had just stepped out of the shower and my phone was ringing. It was too early for phone calls, but I answered. A friend on the other end of the line was frantic.

Have you heard from Jessica? Her cell phone goes straight to voicemail. Can you get out the phone book and look up her Dad’s number? What can we do?


Petrified Forest National Park, Arizona


I’m sorry I peeked.


An apology to my parents and Santa Claus:

Every birthday and every Christmas Eve from the time I can remember to my freshman year of high school, I’d peek.

Don’t say you did, too. This was no “oops, I found my unwrapped gifts in Mom’s closet” or the wake up early, peek over the balcony, see what Santa left me and then sneak back in bed…


IKEA kitchen island = crafts organized