Exploring Creative Pathways

Connecting Words, Art, and Writers

If I’m really, really honest with myself about my desires for my novel Dancing at The Orange Peel, one tiny part of me still harbors hope for tradpub interest. Having a publishing house attracted to this story would validate the years of focus, study, and practice I’ve given to writing it.

When I’m being level-headed and open-eyed, though, I know the odds are monumentally against that. In addition to the stark unlikelihood based on numbers, there’s the slog of writing queries, seeking an agent, waiting for responses from publishers—a process that can take years—all of which, as I’ve talked about before, is exhausting and unappealing to me.

That’s a major reason I decided to create my newsletter Gina’s Quill and to publish it on Substack in the first place: to avoid all that. Besides, beyond my closest writer&reader friends, I’m a complete unknown in the world of historical fiction. Building a readership through newsletter that’s accessible to readers beyond my own mailing list seemed a logical start for newbie me.

So why do I rethink that decision from time to time? Why does the question, “Will publishing draft chapters of the novel on Substack make the option of traditional publishing null and void,” continue to haunt me? Last week, that was the question I was asking myself.

It was brought to the surface after reading an article on

Jennie Nash

’s

The Art & Business of Book Coaching

that addresses the idea of reusing Substack posts for a book. The bottom line is that some publishers, if they like the work, don’t care that it first appeared on Substack, while others will consider it “previously published” and won’t touch it. The article pertained to nonfiction, not fiction; but it still triggered something in me I can’t quite put my finger on…an unnamed discomfort.

How much of what’s in that article also applies to fiction? A lot, I imagine. Should I care? In certain moments, that’s the million dollar question.

I published my first Substack post in June 2023 with a vague plan to write regularly about creativity and to occasionally share my fiction. That plan has morphed over time, and I usually post a fiction chapter a month, plus a second article on varying topics, sometimes related to my novel, sometimes not.

Despite my background as an editor, I’ve shied away from articles on craft and writing because (a) there are so many writers on Substack writing about writing already, and (b) there’s a lot of blowback from readers weary of reading all those articles from writers on Substack who are writing about writing.

Besides, my intentions shifted toward my fiction and earning readers. I thought I also, perhaps, might gain some paying subscribers to help partially fund my ability to keep writing, a goal many Substackers aspire to. Nearly two years in . . . well, I knew my approach would be a long haul and there’s still uncertainty.

Quantifiably, I have approximately 250 free subscribers with two paid. Paying or not, please know I’m grateful for every single one of you. What’s most difficult to quantify is whether anyone actually reads…and enjoys…Gina’s Quill. When all is quiet from without, that’s when I have to stay quiet within and draw on my devotion to writing and the story(ies) I want to tell.

So, I keep my head down and continue working on Dancing at The Orange Peel. From the start, I made it clear that this novel is a work in progress, i.e., a draft. As I’ve reread and rewritten, I see where pacing is off, where the character arcs aren’t well defined, where the characters’ stakes aren’t high enough.

What comes out at the end of this—as a book—is most certainly going to be different from what I’ve shared in this newsletter thus far.

When I Write

Five years ago, pre-pandemic, I started the Women Writing for Change (WWfC) Facebook group. We’re a bunch of writers in all sorts of genres, including fiction, with the intention that the words we put on the page will make a difference in the world.

To hold myself accountable for getting my writing done, I began hosting Co-Writing Sessions on Zoom with members of WWfC joining me. We show up, state in a sentence or two what we’ll work on that session (or we have a prompt handy, when needed), set the timer, and write. We gather for at least one hour, two times a week, sometimes more.

I’ve always offered these Zoom Co-Writing Sessions for free, which I’ve have been able to continue doing with help from my dear friend Melanie who hosts on Tuesdays and Thursdays. If this is something that appeals to you, you can learn more on my website. (Sorry, gentleman readers. This group is for the women.)

When I Make Art

I believe in having more than one creative outlet so when I’m fallow in one, I can move to the other. Doodling and drawing come second to my writing; I love to zentangle and to play with mapping elements inspired by

Angeline Trevena

. Pen and ink and graphite drawings have always appealed to me—the clarity and simplicity and yet the detail that can be accomplished. Similarly, watercolors draw me in. So I was delighted when I stumbled across this watercolor zentangle tutorial.

And then, over the weekend, I went to the Chain of Parks Art Festival. This outdoor juried festival in Tallahassee, Florida, has been nationally ranked in the Top 100 Fine Art Festivals by Sunshine Artist Magazine for 10 years running. I’ve been nearly every year, but this one—the 25th—topped them all.

Artist Kristin Moger blew my mind with the way she’s taken the art of zentangle to a level I could never imagine.

For the third time at a show, I encountered artist/designer Debra Booth. Using the same method my grandmother used, Debra crochets tiny beads together to create gorgeous intricate jewelry. The necklace in the photos below, missing a few tassles, is the only one I have of grandmother’s doing. Notice the colors between the beads? That’s from the different colored threads she used to crochet the beads together! I’m trying to convince Debra to offer a class so this heritage art can be passed to another generation.

My only set of Granny Hogan’s crocheted beads

What I’m Watching

Too much time has passed since 1923 first came out and season 2 is being released, so Mark and I have been doing a season 1 rewatch. Naturally, I love all the historical elements: the sales display in front of the Bozeman hardware store of the machines that will actually wash clothes for you; the transition that’s taking place of horses to automobiles in the city streets that is the obvious metaphor for the clash between the bankers and developers and the ranchers.

Helen Mirren and Harrison Ford are simply magnificent in the roles of Cara and John Dutton. Timothy Dalton plays—almost too convincingly—a despicable character named Donald Whitfield. Writer/producer Taylor Sheridan’s efforts to illustrate just how depraved and power-hungry Whitfield is are certainly successful.

But at what cost?

Both Whitfield’s disturbing treatment of two women in the series, as well as the horrors heaped on Teonna Rainwater (played brilliantly by Aminah Nieves) and other Native American characters, had me asking, “How far is too far in storytelling?”

When is the line crossed from realistic portrayals that remind us of past wrongs and of the kinds of people we do not want to be—a vital benefit of storytelling—over to unnecessarily graphic depictions of abuse and suffering? Where’s that line?

The answer for each of us as readers and viewers is likely different. If you plan to watch, you’ve been forewarned.

What I’m Reading

I haven’t started any new fiction recently because, in addition to my own writing, I’m knee-deep editing a client’s novel. I can’t put too many stories into my head at once.

I can read nonfiction though, and a few days ago, I retrieved Write It Down, Make It Happen from my shelf. I was introduced to this book years ago when a friend told me a heartwarming story about her special person coming into her life as she was working through the book’s exercises. This book has particular relevance for me right now.

In the last few weeks, writer-friend

☕ KimBoo York

and I have had conversations about: not giving up on the violin; how urgent, but unimportant tasks eat our days; decoupling body image from perfectionism; the gaps between thoughts and behavior; and being prepared when luck shows up (among many other things; we dive very deep every Tuesday!).

All of these topics seem, on the surface, unrelated. But they are, in fact, all facets of creating or abandoning a vision. Re-reading Write It Down, Make It Happen now is to recalibrate and reprioritize the vision I have for . . . well, the rest of my days. Anybody want to join me?

Thanks for reading! Subscribing to Gina’s Quill is free; however, a paid subscription helps me continue writing my stories and living my dream as a author.

Whichever you choose, thanks for your support!

Your grateful scribe,