A Post About Writing

Not marketing. No, really.

My scrolling through Substack Notes lately has made me realize that a great number of notes, as well as posts I see, say they’re about writing. But they are not. They are about numbers.

There are countless notes bragging about hitting a subscriber number. Lists upon lists of X or Y number of strategies you can use to gain more subscribers. No real writing advice, just “here’s something you can do to make people click that little subscribe button.”

For me, writing about writing is not a competition, a game, or a popularity contest. It’s about sharing the magic I have found in creative writing. It’s the reason why I offer a Creative Writing course at my local library—free. It’s why I write here on Substack.

My greater purpose

So I’m setting the record straight: My purpose, my mission, if you will, in writing—on Substack or anywhere else—is not about gaining subscribers. When I write about writing it’s to help other humans like me to express themselves. To nurture their creativity. To find the treasure that’s sleeping in their subconscious.

Writing means something different for each of us. For me, it has been the best therapy in helping me cope with the various stages of my life. I wrote my first emotion-drenched essay in the weeks after losing both of my parents, three years apart. The essay still lives somewhere on a USB drive in my desk drawer. While writing it, I didn’t have any idea where the words were coming from as my fingers flew over the keyboard.

It was more of a diary entry than anything else, and I didn’t write it with the idea of selling it, or of using it as “bait” to convince more people to follow me.

But in the following months, I found I had opened a floodgate. The act of writing out my feelings, by putting words left unsaid on a page, I allowed myself closure. When it was done, I felt relief. I had mined the memories, the good and the bad, out of a secret place in my heart and expressed them.

It was therapy, very real and much better than I could have found anywhere else. I realized then why the practice of journaling is so highly recommended.

My own love of writing stretched further than journaling. After that day, I wanted to write more things, more essays about subjects important to me. That’s how my writing “career” began. I began to write pieces about medieval history, a subject that always has and still does fascinate me. I didn’t write them with the idea of selling them. They were a means to record and reorganize some of the facts I had learned.

When I came across a website for a magazine looking for articles about the middle ages, I submitted one of them. And the rest is history (pun intended). I wrote for numerous magazines over a ten-year period before I moved on to novels. My latest creative writing endeavor (as many of you already know) resulted in a three-book series of love stories set in the middle ages.

A secret key to fulfillment

I believe that accessing that secret part inside yourself is a magical experience. I want to share this concept with other humans and guide them there as well. I want to guide them to their very own, secret wellspring of ideas and inspiration.

Visual artists call it their muse. In sports, it’s called “being in the zone.” For us writers, it’s finding our creative flow. The phenomenon for all, I believe, is the same. It’s a feeling that transcends time and place, when what you are doing flows effortlessly from your mind, from your brain to your fingers, unfettered. It’s the high that needs no alcohol or drugs (but coffee helps).

Last night, I was out of words to write. The coffer was empty, and for the life of me, I couldn’t come up with anything to write for my newsletter. The door to my subconscious was shut and locked.

But right now, it’s twelve hours later. I am sitting in my favorite chair, a blanket over my lap, a cup of coffee steaming at my side. It’s early morning, before even the sun is awake. This is when I find that my secret place is most accessible, the transitional stage between sleeping and wakefulness. It’s why I call it First Sip Sparks.

A community of scribes

I don’t really care about numbers. I would love to build a community of like-minded creatives who can support each other and cheer each other on.

And please—understand that this is not to say I have all the answers. But I do know this: finding “flow” is a magical experience. It is life-enriching. I want to spread the word and help others find the key to their inner, magical world. If that interests you, please, join me on this journey. I’m sure each of you has something to teach me beyond what I have to share with you.

I’m anxious to get started.

And yes, there is a little subscribe button. Just in case you want to join me.