Inklings

Re-visioning

Dear readers,

When I set out on Substack, I envisioned building a kind of bird’s nest out of the twigs of all my work—creative nonfiction, writing-about-writing, travel and trail adventures, personal essays…each piece thoughtfully and painstakingly written with the hope of reaching readers with some kind of message that resonates beyond the final word.

Writing, for me, has been my life’s capital-w Work for as long as I can remember. From a very early age, I fell madly and irrevocably in love with books—and, just as young, I set my heart on making books of my own. Writing, as capital-w Work, was my way of dancing with the astonishing magic of language and stories.

And, in the tunnel-vision focus that evolved over the years as I transitioned from aspiring-writer to published-author to aspiring-novelist to novelist-in-revision-purgatory…well, I started to take my Work seriously. Very seriously. Which isn’t a problem—or at least, not one without some benefits.

But seriousness also isn’t without cost. And one of those costs is that, somewhere along the way, I got so busy taking my writing seriously that I forgot to take it playfully.

Inklings is my re-visioned approach to this space, aimed at helping me to reconnect with writing at its most whimsical. Not full-length-pieces with development arcs and poetic echoes and running metaphors brushing against deeper universal themes (although I reserve the right to include those too). No grandly-stated epiphanies or tidy endings that wrap up every lingering thread. Just…inklings. Small things.

You might think of Inklings as being somewhat like Ross Gay’s Book of Delights, except, as life goes, I don’t expect that every single thing will necessarily be delightful (nor do I expect that they will be as wildly gorgeous of Ross Gay’s writing). I do, however, expect that a lot of the inklings will focus on animals and plants and the ordinary miracles of the outdoors, and that my dogs will likely be mentioned (often), and that some may even include some of my art or photography (truly, “Postcards from the Rae Lakes Loop” was one of my favorite Substack pieces, and I’m eager to do a little more like that.)

Basically, Inklings is whatever has my attention in the moment, in whatever words arrive to dance with it. Not my brain’s attention—the worrying and wondering that swirls when I should be sleeping—but my soul’s attention: musings, glimmers, flickers, noticings…field notes from day-to-day existence.

These small things will likely contain typos and errors, will definitely be told in a much more personal voice, and will absolutely be subject to utter self-contradiction at any given time. They will not be literary masterpieces. They are free of that pressure, avoidant of such seriousness. They are waves, not oceans. Feathers, not birds. Notes, not compositions.

And at this point, you might be thinking: sheesh, how often am I going to be getting these small-things in my big pile of unread emails? I’m aiming for once a week or so. Please do feel completely welcome to unsubscribe and just check in at your leisure if that’s your preference.

But I hope that you’ll stick with me as subscribers and followers. Your support and trust mean the world to me, and make every word matter all the more.

In grace & gratitude,

Kelly