by Annie Scholl
While in her late 20s, Tiffany Graham Charkosky’s uncle died. She learned from her aunt that he carried the same gene mutation—Lynch syndrome—that had claimed her mother when Charkosky was 11. The hereditary condition increases the risk of colon and uterine cancers.
After her mother’s death, Charkosky says she spent the next two decades “proving that hadn’t broken me and that I was fine.” But when her uncle died, she decided to undergo genetic testing and learned that she, too, was a carrier.
“I’m the kind of person who, no matter what I’m doing, I want to read a book about it,” said Charkosky, now 43. “I like reading the stories that go with cookbooks. If I start a garden, I want to read books about gardening. Whatever phase of my life I’m in, I want to find stories that connect with that.”
But when she went looking, there were no books to help her through that experience. “There were a couple of online forums, Facebook group type of things, but I wanted the solidness that a book gives you,” she said.
Although she’d published essays, Charkosky — then newly pregnant and caring for a toddler — didn’t have it in her to write about what she was experiencing. “It all happened at once,” she said. “I was just kind of surviving.”
Years later, she felt ready to tell her story, but not confident she could write it. “I went through the fears that a lot of writers have, which is, ‘I’m a writer who isn’t writing anymore. What does that make me?’”
Despite her fears, she started writing her memoir. She finished a first draft but walked away. “The gulf between what I was able to do with my skill set and the story I wanted to tell felt too vast for me to deal with, so I put it aside and kept living my life. But it never left me.”
Eventually, she returned to the manuscript, taking writing workshops and recommitting to her craft. This second time around, something shifted. “I was really gentle with myself,” she said. “I would light a candle in the morning and say, ‘All right, creative one, we’re going to do this today! I’m here for you.’ I felt like I was training my creativity to trust me.”
What emerged was not only a story about genetic testing, but also about the ongoing work of living with Lynch syndrome without letting fear become the defining force. Also, as she wrote she found herself “seeing my mom with grownup eyes instead of child’s eyes.”
Her memoir, Living Proof: How Love Defied Genetic Legacy, was published in October by Little A, the literary imprint of Amazon Publishing. “The story is really about me deciding if I wanted to go through the process of genetic testing and what that opened up in me.”
Nine days after her book launch, Charkosky talked with The Sunlight Press from her home in Cleveland, Ohio, where she lives with her husband and sons, ages 16 and 13.
What did it mean to be kind to yourself when you returned to your manuscript?
A lot of it was telling myself that whatever you’re doing today is fine. I didn’t put strict word count limits on myself. It was really about the presence. It might not always be new writing time. Sometimes it was revising, learning about marketing, or reading a craft book.
I made a notebook of mantras and wrote down five things I needed to do each morning—something creative, something spiritual, something physical. I started paying attention and treating my creativity with the same care I would my job. (Charkosky is director of arts and culture at the Cleveland Public Library and holds a Master of Urban Planning, Design, and Development.)
How did that shift help?
Writing a memoir is an excellent way of understanding who you are. You can’t turn away from it. Facing myself made it easier to understand why I am the way I am. It quieted down a lot of the internal chatter of, ‘What right do you have to do this?’ or ‘You’re not good enough.’
What’s this time been like since your book launched?
It’s been really weird and really good. I’ve gotten a lot of beautiful messages from people, and that’s been lovely. But I’m itching to get back to creative work instead of being in this promotional mode. I like the act of doing the work much more than I like the act of telling the world I did the work. I was so lonely when I was going through the process (of genetic testing) that having a book like mine would have given me some comfort—just to know, hey, you’re not a bad person for having these thoughts or crazy for the way you’re responding. You’re a human. I hope that in sharing this, it’s validating for people.
What will those who haven’t faced genetic testing find in your memoir?
It’s about love—love of family—and what it means to lose someone and grapple with how that loss shapes the rest of your life. It’s also about legacy: what we inherit from the people who came before us and what we pass on to our own children. That can be literal, through our genes, but it’s also about the ways we see and move through the world. I’ve heard from readers who said the book helped them process their own grief. One woman told me that after reading the book, she dreamt of her mother for the first time since she had died. I think that’s what the book offers, even for those who haven’t faced genetic testing: a reminder of how love and loss become part of who we are and how we live.
You published with Little A, Amazon Publishing’s literary imprint. How did that come about?
I queried about 60 agents over two years before finding my agent at Creative Media Agency in April 2024. We went through two rounds of developmental edits and had a plan to go out on submission that fall. In the summer she called and said, ‘Don’t be mad, but I soft pitched your project to an editor at Little A who’s really interested.’ We worked hard for 10 days to polish the proposal and first 50 pages. Four to six weeks later, my editor made an offer. Instead of going out on submission, I decided to take the offer on the table. It’s been a great experience.
Why do you think it lined up for you?
There’s a saying: ‘The harder you work, the luckier you get.’ When you’re working on a memoir, you have to have a full manuscript and book proposal. I worked really, really hard on my proposal. A lot of it was used in the proposal my agent sent to Little A, which was cool to see.
What advice do you have for new writers?
Make good writing friends. I don’t think any of this would have happened without having my writer friends. You hold each other accountable. My husband and kids love me, but they don’t care if I write a single word. The world isn’t waiting for my book, but my writing group cares. We take it seriously, meet once a month, and check in on how we can support each other.
What would your mama say about your book?
My book came out two days before her birthday, and I got my book deal roughly around the date that she died. I’m not a woo-woo kind of person, but when the woo-woo things happen, you can’t help but notice them. I’ve felt closer to her through writing this project. It keeps her very present for me. I think she would be proud and know how much we still love her over 30 years later.
Image: “Vintage Typewriter” by Memphis CVB via Flickr



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