This wasn’t how this post was supposed to go.
When I start out the week here on The Wildroot Parables with our Monday devotionals, I don’t always know where our topic will lead us, and I’m usually just as surprised as you all are by the conclusions I come to by the time Thursday rolls around. Today is no exception.
My original plan was to talk about Pentecost (coming up this Sunday), the movement of the Holy Spirit upon the soul, and how that correlates to taking the longer road to transformation and avoiding the quick but incomplete shortcuts. I still have that original essay somewhere in me, perhaps waiting for another day, but it took on a strangely specific element this week when I experienced an unexpected shift in my employment circumstances as a freelance writer and editor.
Details aside, attempting to be a writer as my actual job has always had a different flavor to it than any of the other occupations I’ve had. Being a teacher, a retail worker, a camp counselor…none of these were tied to my own sense of my identity quite the same way as being a writer is.
Changes in my work have seismic effects, both financially and emotionally. That’s the nature of freelancing; there’s always a level of uncertainty. It’s the price you pay for the freedom to do what you love. That uncertain ground has been wildly fertile soil for my own transformation as God has continually opened my eyes to what providence really means. Trust is easy when you can see the safety net. It’s more difficult when you feel you’re walking a tightrope over an abyss.
But the shake-up in my work this week had perhaps the opposite effect than I would have guessed, I’m grateful to say. Instead of knocking me off of my confidence, it just made me more determined than ever to write, and write, and write. And not only that, but share, and share, and share. Because it’s everything I’ve always wanted to do, even when it’s an uphill climb.
And because, when I write, I feel God’s pleasure (to paraphrase Eric Liddell).
Substack is a huge part of my writerly dreams. While the financial landscape of writing here is still an unknown quantity, I still feel “at home” in this place, surrounded for the first time by writers and readers who genuinely seem to care about both craft and community. It’s a refreshing shift from the normal “look at me!” singsong carnival of social media.
A long time ago, I determined that I wasn’t going to hope for overnight success as a writer. Frankly, I don’t want it. It feels like a shortcut, a quick fix. What I want is what I’ve always tried to cultivate here on this platform: community, compassion, and curiosity. No matter where you find me on Substack, that’s what I want you to see.
And so, the upshot of my original post—and of this one—is this:
I want to invite you to my new Substack project, called Talebones.
On Talebones, I will be sharing my storytelling—speculative fiction with a spiritual, supernatural, or uncanny twist—with anyone who cares to pull up a chair and listen. There will be monthly short fiction, serialized longer pieces, and flash fiction as and when it arises. You’ll also get Talebones Weekly, my Tuesday update posts, which often contain fun bonuses, community participation, and philosophizing about craft. A $30/year paid option exists as well, and details about that will be available soon.
Whether you decide to find me over on Talebones, or whether you’d rather only hang out here on The Wildroot Parables—where business will continue as usual as the home for my nonfiction writing—my hope is that you’ll join me on this long, winding road that I’m taking toward becoming the writer I always hoped to be. Not an overnight sensation, not famous, but a wordsmith with a reputation for quality and a spirit of hospitable invitation.
It’s the long way ‘round, but it’s certainly transformational.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Thank you for reading!
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Inspired by your tenacity and resilience! I'm very much looking forward to the future of both "Wildroot" and "Talebones." I'll certainly pray for you and your family in this time of uncertainty and growth.
The providence, the provide-nce, of Pentecost indeed seems uncoincidental. I work in healthcare, and up and quit a facility just before Christmas, nearly 10 years ago. It wasn't a safe move, but more of a mental health move. I found an employer AND community, (and providence!) Pentecost, waiting. . .for power, for direction. You're in the perfect spot.