How I Came to Substack

and found myself back in my lover's arms

It started with Heather Cox Richardson’s wonderful Letters from an American during those troublesome Trump years. Something I sorely needed then to keep me safe and sane, a way to better understand what was going on in the world politically from a historical viewpoint: We’ve been here before. This too will pass. We will survive.

Then came George Saunders Story Club, a place to discuss the art and craft of writing, to commune with other writers. This is where I spend most of my time on Substack. Feeling so at home in this welcoming community of readers and writers, doing what we love most most—-reading stories and writing about what we read in the comments, riffing off each other’s insights, and learning from George’s tender promptings how to go deeper, wider, using the practical tools he so generously gives us.

At this point I had no idea what Substack was. It was in the comments that I discovered it’s a new platform for writers to publish and actually be paid for their writing.

I’d already been writing on WordPress for ten years and have over 10,000 followers. But the lively conversations we used to have there were drying up. I wanted a new audience for my writing, for the stories and poetry already shared there. I wanted new conversations and perhaps, eventually, a place where my work would actually earn a modest income.

At that point I was in a kind of writer’s slump. The novel I’d been working on was in the hands of a development editor, and I was feeling lost and edgy. The work I loved to do, had been spending so many hours each day doing, was now on hold. I needed something new. That’s when I started posting on Substack. It’s been slow-going so far, attracting new readers, but in the meantime I’ve discovered so many wonderful writers and have enjoyed engaging with them. And perhaps with Notes I’ve found a new forum to replace Twitter which I’m loathe to use now with Musk in charge.

But (big but here), my novel is back in my loving arms again. The editor was super enthusiastic (a writer’s high) and had suggestions for how to make it even stronger. So I’m back with my first love in a writer’s fever spending all our time together. And he’s a jealous lover. We can hardly spend an hour apart where he’s not clamoring to get me back in bed. And I go so willingly into his arms. I don’t know when I’ll ever have time for writing romps with other partners. How much time he’ll allow me now on Substack and WordPress. But he generously granted me some time this morning to spend with you. To explain my situation.

I don’t know when I’ll be back here. Or how often. But rest assured, in the meantime, I’ll be in loving arms. And I wish with all my heart the same for you and all you love.