Kris Adkins Interview Published on: 23, Jul 2026

It reminded me that curiosity often starts in a very ordinary place. One simple question can lead to a much larger discovery if you are willing to keep asking, “Is that actually true?” That has shaped the way I write. I try to begin with something familiar, something people may have heard many times, and then look a little closer. Often, the truth is more interesting than the myth.

I think people are hesitant because accepted truths feel safe. They are familiar, repeated often, and usually passed along by people we trust. Challenging them can feel uncomfortable, even when the goal is simply to understand something better. It is much easier to accept a simple answer than to sit with a more complicated one. But I think that is where real learning happens.

Working in the tech industry taught me to break complicated ideas into plain language. In technology, you often have to explain complex systems, products, or strategies in a way that people can actually use. That same approach applies to my writing. I do not want the books to feel like lectures. I want them to feel clear, useful, and easy to follow, while still respecting the reader’s intelligence.

I look for topics that have a strong “wait, really?” quality to them. If a myth or misconception makes me stop and rethink something I assumed I knew, there is a good chance it will do the same for readers. I also like topics that cross categories. A scientific myth might connect to culture. A historical misunderstanding might reveal something about how people pass stories down. Those connections make the material more interesting.

Travel has a way of reminding you that your own assumptions are not universal. Living and spending time outside the United States has made that very clear to me. Everyday things—food, language, customs, communication styles, even how people define success or community—can look very different from one place to another. That has influenced my thinking because it reminds me not to treat my own perspective as the default. There is almost always another way to see something.

One that always stands out is the idea that humans only use 10 percent of their brains. It is such a popular belief, and it has been repeated in movies, books, and casual conversation for years. But it is not true. The brain is active in many different ways, even when we are resting. What surprised me most was not just that the claim was wrong, but how easily a simple-sounding myth can become part of popular culture.

I try to avoid two extremes. I do not want to oversimplify a topic so much that it loses meaning, but I also do not want to make the writing feel dense or academic. The goal is to explain clearly without talking down to the reader. I think people enjoy learning when the material is approachable, well-organized, and just surprising enough to keep them turning the page.

It usually begins with a question. Sometimes it is a myth I have heard for years. Sometimes it is a claim that sounds a little too neat or convenient. From there, I start looking into the origin of the idea, why people believe it, and what the evidence actually says. The story develops as I learn more.

Curiosity is essential. We live in a time when information is everywhere, but understanding is not always as easy to find. Curiosity slows you down. It makes you ask where a claim came from, who benefits from it, and whether it holds up under scrutiny. Without curiosity, people are more likely to accept the first answer they see.

One challenge is that people can feel personally attached to certain beliefs, even harmless ones. A myth may be tied to nostalgia, culture, identity, or something they were taught when they were young. So the challenge is to present the truth without making the reader feel foolish for having believed the myth. I want the tone to be curious, not condescending.

It has made me more aware that words carry assumptions. The way people explain things, joke about things, or pass along stories is deeply shaped by culture. That has made me more careful as a writer. I try to leave room for nuance and avoid assuming that one culture’s version of a story is the only version worth telling.

For me, skepticism is not about being negative. It is about being careful. It means asking better questions before making a decision. Is this true? What is the evidence? Am I reacting emotionally or thinking clearly? That mindset is useful in writing, business, travel, and everyday life. Healthy skepticism helps you avoid easy assumptions.

I would say my biggest influence has been a combination of reading widely, working in fields where clear thinking matters, and living through enough life experience to know that first impressions are not always reliable. I am drawn to writers, teachers, and thinkers who can make complicated ideas feel understandable without stripping away their complexity.

Start by paying attention to the things you think you already know. When you hear a familiar fact, phrase, or explanation, ask where it came from. Do not assume that something is true just because it has been repeated often. Also, read outside your usual interests. Curiosity grows when you expose yourself to different subjects, different cultures, and different ways of thinking.

My experience with AllAuthor has been positive. I appreciate that the platform gives authors another way to share their work, connect with readers, and build visibility over time. Book promotion is not always immediate, so I value platforms that help authors continue building a presence and reaching new audiences.