That Connection Thing?
Not always easy...but always worth it.
Whew. It’s been a decade, hasn’t it?
Oh, wait. Only four weeks have passed since the last edition of The What If Journal. It just feels like ten years have gone by.
If you’re like me, every day feels like it lasts months. The assault on our democracy is a never-ending gut punch. I’m appalled to witness the takeover of our federal government by a nonelected billionaire and his associates. I watch with horror as ICE raids occur in my city, with zero accountability. I’m angry for those affected by the dismantling of DEI policies. I cry with a friend who is trying to help her trans child navigate a system suddenly filled with roadblocks—and I worry constantly for my own queer, nonbinary, neurodiverse, nonwhite child, as well as for my draft-age sons.
I wish I could offer more optimism . I wish I had a magic wand that could wave all this away. But none of us have that, and all we can do is hold and support one another.
But even that isn’t always easy. Like most of us, I’m exhausted. Last month, I talked about how connection and community are key—still true, but getting out there can feel like an mountain-sized task, whether the connection is in person or online.
Where Do We Find Each Other?
Our actions matter. Where we shop and engage, the companies we support—and who those companies and their owners support—all of it matters.
After the inauguration, I stepped back from Meta apps. I haven’t removed my profiles, but I’m currently inactive on those platforms.
The hard part is, I miss them. My communities are there. Over the years, I’ve made online friends and connected regularly with people I know “in real life.” I got to know readers and fans. I had in-depth, thoughtful conversations. I smiled at photographs and laughed at funny memes.
Practically speaking, stepping back from Meta also means significantly less visibility for my books—particularly my most recent release, the award-winning psychological suspense novel Anyone But Her.
(If you’re intrigued and haven’t yet read Anyone But Her, please consider supporting my work by grabbing a copy in print, ebook, or audio. If you’ve read it, please consider leaving a review. Purchase and review links are here.)
Many of my friends are staying on Meta apps for practical reasons or because they say that if we allow our communities to disappear, we’re giving in. I understand, but the idea of supporting those who support this regime doesn’t sit well with me. But I don’t know what to do long-term, so my profiles are still there.
In the meantime, where do we go? How do we find one another? Can we create community elsewhere?
A few weeks ago in a post discussing social media, the brilliant Dan Blank of The Creative Shift suggested seeking a “third option” when it feels like our choices are binary.
I’m seeking that third option here on Substack. I’m posting notes and commenting on others’ notes. I’m reading lots of Substacks. So many here possess beautiful language skills and have remarkable insights. From them, I’m learning; with them, I hope to build new communities. I hope you’ll be one of them!
I’m also active on Bluesky, but it’s a challenge to find my footing there. As many have said, it feels like the Twitter of old, but that was never my platform of choice. A limited character count gives into our short attention spans and reduces opportunities for meaningful conversation.
Still, I’m trying. If you’re on Bluesky, please follow me. And if you have suggestions for how I can make my experience there more substantial, I’m all ears.
What If We Recognize Our Power?
Just before distancing myself from Meta, I came across a post in a Facebook writers’ group about a newly-forming online write-in. The timing works for me, and I’ve been attending the past several weeks. Once a week, we gather online, briefly state our names and where we’re from, then write for 45 minutes. Afterward, we chat until the hour is up.
Key to this setup is that we’re encouraged to leave our cameras on (mics off). I have two screens, and while I rarely look at the screen full of writers’ faces, just knowing they’re there—working and creating like I am—keeps me going.
This experience inspired me to join another weekly online write-in, structured slightly differently but still helpful. I’m also seeing writer friends in person whenever possible.
These connections help. It can be difficult to get past the feeling that there’s no point to our art. But we have to keep creating art, and we have to keep creating community.
During the pandemic, my friend, comic book author, and Denver Noir contributor R. Alan Brooks recorded a TEDx talk titled, “When the world is burning, is art a waste of time?” In it, Alan reminds us that if art had no power, dictators and their followers wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about suppressing it. (Book bans, anyone?)
Whenever I feel downhearted about my creative work, I rewatch Alan’s talk. I encourage you to gift yourself 12 minutes to watch and listen to Alan—you won’t regret it.
For more information about Alan’s work, see his website.
What If Creativity Comes in Many Forms?
While it’s true that I’m struggling with my own creative work, I have to give a nod to my editing clients. I’m currently working on several books as content editor or developmental editor. I’m grateful for the work, which reminds me that creativity comes in many forms.
My clients’ books and publishing goals are diverse, but they all share a desire to ensure their books are the highest quality possible, and they’re willing to do what it takes make that happen.
If you’re looking for an editor, please get in touch. I’d love to discuss your project and see if I can help!
Info about content editing and storytelling assistance is here.
Info about developmental editing for novelists and memoirists is here.
What If We Read?
Reading is my solace. My focus lately has been on novels with incredible character development and solid stories. Here are a few recent faves.
What are you reading? Let me know!
What If We Step Out?
Other than in-person writing get-togethers and supporting my author friends by attending their events, I’m mostly hibernating—but I’m looking forward to connecting with readers and fellow authors at Left Coast Crime: Mile High High Jinks, March 13 - 16 in downtown Denver. My friend Manuel Ramos—another Denver Noir contributor and the “Father of Chicano Noir”—is one of two guests of honor, along with Sara Paretsky.
I’ll be on the panel “Crime in Colorado” with Marie Sutro, Patricia Raybon, Helen Starbuck, and R. Weir. And Helen and I are hosting a table at the Saturday night banquet—you can sign up to hang with us at our table.
This conference promises to be a blast for both readers and authors. Please join us! Registration info is here.
I know…it’s a lot. We’re all dealing with a lot.
Keep the faith. Read. Walk. See your friends. Call your representatives.
For a strong dose of the power of art, rewatch Kendrick Lamar’s halftime performance. (I like what author Jamie Ford says about Lamar’s artistry: “Entertainment supports the status quo and art subverts it.”)
Above all, create. It’s what they most fear—because it’s your superpower. Never let them take it away from you.
Six years ago, we read the handwriting on the wall. We looked for an escape hatch. We visited San Miguel de Allende, a UNESCO World Heritage city (which feels & functions like a small town!) in the mountains of Mexico, and fell in love. In January 2020, we moved; shortly thereafter, COVID came. We were safe, in a culture that respects family, community, history and traditions. Everyone adhered to the health restrictions and we had the lowest cases of COVID in the country, far less than in the US. We quickly made more real authentic friends than we'd ever had IN OUR LIFETIME in the US.
San Miguel is a worldwide mecca for the arts (of ALL sorts). This week I'm again participating in the annual (the 20th year!) San Miguel Writers Conference, taking sessions, doing a reading of my books, and pitching agents on my newest novel.
Facebook is how people in this town connect, so although we disapprove of Zuck's Meta, it's a fact of life. I have a lot of "fans" here who buy my books directly from me; those sales don't show up on Amazon, and only a few people bother to write reviews (familiar, huh?). I've received lots of awards but my sales ranking on Amazon is abysmal. I don't have the budget to travel extensively to the US for readings (which is where my books really shine; the discussions are awesome!), nor can I afford a publicist who could set all that up. My hybrid publisher does bupkus for me on promo/marketing (something I really suck at). My novels are "serious" character-driven & somewhat dark, not easy "commercial." So I'll never be a bestseller. Sigh.